The Bar Sun [Open]

[Jae]

Somewhere within the canyon laced lands of Tsuchi no Kuni stood a lone establishment that, despite it's reclusive location, appeared to be lively and bustling with activity. In it's essence it stood as a beacon for wayfaring travelers to settle down and unwind in between their journies.

I pushed through the doors of the "Bar Sun" to be welcomed by the delightful stench of cigarette smoke, which lingered throughout the interior in a thick veil. The place was loud, so loud that I was barely acknowledged through all of the racket. A television and a jukebox were both blaring at what seemed like full blast. Their sounds meshed together dissonantly with the rabble of conversation and breaking glass throughout the area. It was like I'd died and gone to heaven.

I couldn't help but smirk upon entering, places like these were a dime a dozen in a world full of uptight wanna-be warrior gods. I scanned the area in an attempt to gather some idea on how things were run in good ol' Bar Sun and, from what I could tell, the place was balls to the wall— literally, there wasn't a pair of tits within a 5 mile radius of the place. I assumed the guy behind the counter was the owner of the venue, he seemed caught up in whatever was on the television, and so I set off in his direction, making sure to take the seat directly in line with him.

He must've felt my presence because as soon as I plopped down he turned around to look, though he seemed pretty unphased by my charming good looks. He'd probably figured me to be like all the other drunks littering the place.

"Sup brah. What'll it be, brah,," he asked without hesitation, propping his elbows onto the bar top.

"Eh, how about some Awamori," I replied while rummaging through my pockets to fish out some Ryo. ¥150-- I slammed on it on the bar top like a boss and, like clock work, his wiry hand snatched it up in a single swipe before going to work at the multitude of spirits lining the cabinet. Shortly after he returned with exactly what I'd ordered, speaking out as he placed the glass cup and a bottle in front of me.

"Name's Hajime, brah. Never seen you 'round these parts, brah, " he called while assuming his previous position, half facing the television to get back to whatever it was he was watching.

Apparently I didn't have him figured out like I thought. I filled my cup half way before taking a sip. "Kusunoki", I coughed as the strong liquor burned it's way down my throat. "I'm a Hikyaku by way of Kusagakure, off duty and on my way back home."

He nodded, folding his arms across his chest to fully turn back toward the television. What a cunt, I thought to myself while tackling the liquor once more. Images of a ravaged Takigakure splashed across the screen he was enveloped in.

"So what's there to do around here," I called out to Hajime. He turned to me slowly and huffed a sigh through his nostrils, as if I was bothering him.

"Drink, brah. Drink and uh... play darts." He dismissively waved toward a dart board that was posted on a wall somewhat close to the entrance/exit before turning back to the television, as if to signal the end of our conversation.

I turned to look and, as expected, there were no darts to be found anywhere close to the damned thing so I leaned over the bar to make sure he heard me clearly say.. "And what, you expect me to throw my sword, is'zat it brah?" I gibed. "Gimme somethin' to throw, ya cunt!" At this point he was noticeably bothered, shoving his hand into his shirt pocket before slamming it on the bar top

"Here, brah, here! Use these, brah! Now leave me the fuck alone, brah," he exclaimed, giving me a brief stink eye before turning back toward the television. He didn't seem to appreciate my sense of humor.

Scooping up the what he'd left, I downed what was left of my Awamori and started toward the dartboard.

[Gentlemanne]

Was that it?

This was the extent of hospitality in Tsuchi no Kuni? I couldn't find a single thing to eat, even on the roads. No animals, no people, nothing. Despite their hardest attempts at a unique aesthetic, whoever made this shit hole of a country failed at making it even remotely interesting to look at.

''Dirt, rocks, grass, rocks, dirt, stones. Vhat zhe fuck? Vhere are zhe lower class citizens pavink zhe vay for zheir children? Or zhe delightful little hoolikans takink zheir dogs for mid day valks? Zhis isn't vhat I was promised."

With a heaving sigh, I looked up at the partially set sky and began pondering why I ever came here. It was close to my home country, sure, but the promise of hospitality and loose women seemed to be hollow. Well, the former was at least. I imagine whoever else swings by this place will find plenty of women with loose holes.

''Ooh, vhat is zhis? Bar.. feen? Bar sink? Vhat? Zhese people can't efen spell."

I spotted the charming little turd that pleasantly stood out from the dirt and trees, but what the hell was it? My reading wasn't too flash, but it looked like it was promising refreshments and women to me. Definitely. ''Ehehe.. zhere must be a whole swarm of girls in zhere vaiting to jump on zhe ol' Hagan Vagon." I rubbed my hands together sleazily as I pushed on towards the doors, my mind flicking through all the possible scenarios I'd encounter before I even so much as placed a hand on the door.

''Mmm.. kinky vomen, maybe it's a BDSM club? Nein, zhat is very unlikely, don't be silly, darlink. Mmmn.. vhat if it's a cannibal club? Oh, ja, give zhat to daddy. Vhatever is inside, all I have to say is.."

''LOOK OUT VOMEN, HERE I COOOOOOOOOOOO--.. "

".. OME ON! VHAT ZHE FUCK?"

It was a sausage fest, a burnt one at that. What the hell was that smell? I had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was it smelt like burned asshole. As I slipped through the cloud, my partially open robe being muddied with the stench of cancer, I quickly spotted a bar; a safe haven. Perfect! But as I approached, there was already somebody there, though what he was saying wasn't quite clear to me. Was he hitting on the poor barman?

''Hmph, I guess you gotta take vhat you can get here, ehehe.."

I joked beneath my breath, my voice far too quiet to be heard, something I wasn't used to. As the stranger pushed away from the stretch of drinking heaven, I looked back towards him and slapped my sides, psyching myself up. I wasn't about to be unnoticed, was I?

''YOU, ZHE VON VITH ZHE.. ER.. THROWING NEEDLES. PLAY ME IN YOUR PRIMITIVE GAME OF ''BARTS!""

I screamed as loud as I could, my loud, booming voice barely able to get over the boisterous atmosphere. If the man wasn't to notice me, I'd scream again. But it'd be hard not to notice the tall blonde haired, red haired upper-classman pointing and screaming at you, right?

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[Sharkk]

SEBASTIAN CLAVE

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[/u] without hesitation before ordering a flask of whiskey and taking his seat in a cliche dark corner, a single wooden chair at the almost wobbly table that was stained with various alcohols, blood, and who knew what else. Already taking a strong pull from his drink, he'd scan the other bar patrons.

"Not a single surprise here..."[/color][/i]

Not only was it full of Earth Country filth, it didn't even have a single women within it's hold...Not even the unfairest of them all...How pathetic, he really had chosen the deepest piss hole in Earth Country, possibly the entire shinobi world. Closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair, something he did despite the countless times teachers and elders hammered "Don't lean back in your chair" into his head. His upper back and head pressed against the hard wall behind him he'd begin to hum a tune to himself. Though after awhile and a refill of his flask and a second refill...and a third, he'd find himself enjoying himself despite the new tune that was playing on the music-box. His eyes always dancing about the bar, he'd witness the entrance of a rather peculiar individual, if one could be peculiar in the shinobi world.

And as he watched the man and the others, time would pass...But, then, but then something totally and undeniabley unexpected had happened. Hagan, his eldest nephew had entered the bar. Grinning from ear to ear Sebastian would shoot up from his chair after shoving himself from the wall to the floor, the chair clapping against the ground and the table before him scooting forward as he carelessly stood up and stepped forward. "HAGAN, MY NEPHEW!"[/color] A single word was not slurred, though a bit of his wine was spilled as he raised his flask with haste and without care.

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[Jae]

When I turned from the bar I found myself face to face with a screaming court jester whose gloved hand seemed to be pointing directly at me. Whatever he was saying was completely irrelevant and I let out an immediate scream of ridicule mixed hysteria so it could be known. This went on for an uncomfortably long time but once I'd gained my bearing, I lifted a hand to wave the harlequin in my direction.

"For fucks sake, Hajime, get us some drinks," I shouted behind me to the bartender. "So you wanna play darts, fancy pants?!"

I started to wait for an answer when the sound of a chair smashing against the ground dubbed the entrance of another character, who came bounding out of a dark corner equipped with full Fu Man Chu and liquor flask combo. He was just as, if not more ridiculous than the other guy, but he didn't look near as cool. I'd purposely avoid talking to him for the time being, despite wanting to verbally rip him to shreds.

The sound of Hajime setting the glasses on the bar top signaled me taking one into my possession and extending it over to Fancy. It shined a pristine blue within the glass and smoke hovered over the top of it. Would he drink it? He'd better have, it was on my tab.

"Come on over and have a drink, Fancy!"

[Gentlemanne]

''Ja, you better believe zhese pants are fancy, dummkoph."

What did he mean by that, anyway? Was it normal for bar dwellers to compliment eachothers pants? Regardless, I'd remember that for now and wave a hand, a loud, inappropriate laugh silencing my thoughts. ''JAHAHAHAHA, JA, JA. Your pants are vunderbar too!" I was finally in the swing of things and was definitely the life of the party, the sideways look that everybody gave me further proving that. Before too long, however, it seemed my accomplice was busy with his boyfriend behind the bar. Perfect timing, all things considered.

''Nein, uncle. Zhis isn't zhe time-- vait, vhat are you doink here? Look out, I am here to play zhe bart game."

Dismissing my uncle with a wave of my hand, I glanced back at the man before me. He was tall enough, I guess, and his choice of.. er, clothes was quite interesting, but most importantly he seemed to be able to match me in confidence. We were going to see if he could match me in stamina and throwing games, too!

''Jaaaaa, I zhink I vill!"

I announced triumphantly, my hand ripping the drink from the mans hand. It was.. blue and smokey, sort of like that foul fog that covered the room, but something about it was different. It didn't smell like cancer and trust me, I've smelt my fair share of cancer. Instead, it had a weird twinge to it, almost like I was inhaling wolf piss. Hopefully it tasted as good.

''Bottles up!"

I laughed as I downed the concoction, my tongue thirstily lapping the liquid out of the cup. It was disgusting, but so, so erotic; the taste of gasoline and hogs ass was almost euphoric. As I finished my drink and felt it hit my system, I swooned back and felt my muscles relax, though without the aid of my stamina it was strictly a visual change.

''I.. *hic* I love zhis.. ehe."

What had come over to me? I wasn't hunting, I wasn't raping and I certainly wasn't feeding, but I felt this odd sense of comfort as the substance slid down my throat and into my body. Was this some magical potion? No, definitely not, he didn't do any of those weird gang signs before giving me it. But it certainly wasn't natural, this wasn't something I had to clear up for my own good.

''Eurgh.. vhat is zhis? It is amazink, it tastes like.. amazink, but I vant mor--.. NEIN, GIMMIE ZHE BARTS, I VILL VIN ZHIS BATTLE OF-- nein, gife me mooooooooore, ehehe.. throw zhe fuckink barts, ve hafe a game to play."

I wagged about, my arms flopping against my sides as I watched the man. Maybe I took this a little overboard, but it just felt so, so good. If I was able to dance, or wiggle around efficiently enough, maybe they'd give me money and more magic water like those stick dancers.

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[Jae]

''Jaaaaa, I zhink I vill!"

When he snatched the drink from my hand, I turned to grab my own. It was the same eye-catching blue that Fancy's was and when he tore into his drink, I did the same. And god damn did it suck going down. My right eye squinted and watered as the beverage washed down my throat. The belch that followed had the potential to blow Fancy's hair back had he been close enough.

"Alllriiiiight, mate! You wanna throw bones with me, yeah?! MEET ME BY THE BOARD, SON!" The glass I held in my hand raised high over my head before I spiked it to the floor. It's shattering was mostly drowned out by the bar ruckus so only a few heads turned as a result.

I pointed all eight darts I held at the board before stomping toward Fancy, slapping four of them into his free hand as I marched past him. Patrons were treated like trash and I forced anyone who was in my way aside with a disrespectful shove. I was a little more pissed than I thought I was but it didn't matter; all that mattered was victory.. Victory and the Death of Fancy.

The song that was playing on the jukebox was beginning to piss me off so I stormed in it's direction first, lifting my booted foot to deliver a staggering kick that caused the entire machine to tremble. I noticed voices got quieter as I did that and the song changed as a result.

"C'MON FANCY! LET'S DOOOIIIIIIT," I roared as loud as I could in his direction before marching behind a line drawn about three meters away from the dartboard. It was at about eye level and about 70 inches off the ground.

[Sharkk]

SEBASTIAN CLAVE

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[Gentlemanne]

''Oohoho, zhis von has a bit of spunk, aye?"

I found myself chuckling at the antics of my drinking buddy, my body still floppy and loose from the harsh liquid I had consumed. Irregardless of my current state, I took the darts all the same, my eyes flashing a competitive look at my opponent before I completely loosened my body, a devilish smirk stretching across my face.

''So.. ah.. how do you play zhese.. ''barts"? You throw zhem at zhe board, ja?"

I remarked with a coy, slurred tone as I floppily followed behind him, the alcohol induced looseness of my body being amplified by the jolt of stamina I shot into my muscles. Now basically dragging my shoulders against the ground, I looked up and began laughing as this man began pushing people aside, the fear in their eyes bringing back pleasant memories of my own mistreating.

''Oooonce, ja. I don't know if I'm sober enough for zhis, Bandit~"

I murmured quietly as I stood back up straight, my arms waggling about like noodles beside me as I took in the sight of the board. It was a circle, with more circles in it and for some reason they put stupid triangles on it. What the fuck was I supposed to do with this? It looked like a fancy food platter, or a wagon wheel, definitely not something a man should be competing over.

''Vhaaaaat zhe fuck? You know vhat? NEIN, VE VILL NOT PLAY VAGON VHEEL."

With that, I grabbed all four of my darts and threw them into the crowd of people, a couple stray darts hitting a portly, bearded man in the leg, while the other dart flew right into a much larger man's cup, the loud sound of it smashing acting as a precursor for his yelling, the unintelligible way he spoke bringing an irritated look to my face.

''Oi, wot the fuckya' think ya doin' cunt? Ya just right ruined my drink there, ya realize?"

''Ja, I realize. Vhat of it, kant?"

I asked with a wide smile, my floppy shoulders shrugging as I patted my companion on the shoulder. ''Heeeey, zhis guy is.. *hic* trying to fuck vith me, herr Bandit. How's about.. ehe.. ve compete for somethin' more manly? Zhe fatty is yours!" Was all I said before I began slinking towards the large man. He was quite easily 7 foot, and from the looks of things, he had quite a lot of muscle. But with a big man comes a big pay off. As he stood there and cracked his knuckles, I removed a single glove, my free arm hiding behind my back. ''To make it fair.. ja.."

''.. von fist enema, comink up!"

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SPOILER: Click to show

Tsurutsuru Hebi (Slippery Serpent)
Rank: C
Type: Supplementary / Specialized Taijutsu / Savage Strike Arts
Range: N/A
Stamina: N/A (Mid upkeep per turn for flexibility)
Special: Once they assume their stance, the user can opt to add an additional amount of flexibility to their body, allowing them to shift their weight far easier, contort themselves to the point that they appear dislocated from their joints and ultimately weave around attacks in a more efficient fashion. (Note: This does not automatically dodge techniques and is reliant on clever RP'ing to get proper use out of it.)
Description: Taking on the principles of a snake, the user will funnel more effort into their muscles and ligaments to loosen themselves up, allowing them to take on an even more liquid posture. By shifting their weight quickly, weaving, turning and slipping around, the user is able to contort themselves in and around areas they usually couldn't, such as dodging multiple things at a time and forcing themselves into narrow spaces. Movement during is neither impeded or increased, instead, it allows them to take the current speed they've got and use it to its fullest potential. As an additional strength for the technique, the user is able to balance themselves in ways they usually couldn't, such as balancing all their weight on one leg, or shifting their weight whilst close to the ground.
Domain: Savage Strike Arts.

1xLow.

[Jae]

'You know vhat? NEIN, VE VILL NOT PLAY VAGON VHEEL."

I watched as Fancy carelessly tossed his handful into the crowd. In turn, his darts smashed and pierced a pair of randoms within the crowd. I chucked a balled fist into the air, turning to my partner in crime to give him an uplifting cheer. "Alright, Fancy! That's the way to do it!" I stepped forward to give him a solid pat on the back as one of the randoms shot up, barking at Fancy and I like we were kids or somethin'.

Before I could even get a word in, however, Fancy stepped forward and cut the bloke short with that crazy accent of his. I barely knew the guy and I was already in love with him. He knew how to have fun, unlike the lot of bastards I'd come across while traveling. They acted quite similarly to the twat standing in front of me, him and his friend who stood up sometime after he did. He wasn't as tall as the one talking to Fancy but what he lacked in height he made up for in rotundness.

"Christ, you're an ugly fuck," I shouted while stepping away from Fancy to face my much larger adversary. He was almost a guaranteed foot taller than me (6'9) but that didn't stop me from laying into him. "I'monna piss on your mom after I'm done wiping my ass with you, fat boy" It was clear that he'd had enough when he lunged forward to deliver a right handed hammer fist down onto my head.

Instinct prompted me to step to the outer side of his arm, where I immediately pushed passed him to deliver a swift kick to the back of his knee. He was unphased by my attempt and turned to drop his hand on me once more. This time when I moved, he destroyed the table he was sitting at sending it's contents spiraling through the air.

I'd head off his rampage with a taunting gesture, grabbing my crotch and sticking my tongue out. And like a mad bull he charged at me with the same fervor, lifting his cannonball like hands into the air in an attempt to crush me once again. His technique was flawed and his weight was his primary source of power, his footing lended to him stumbling more than he should but he was faster than I originally took him.

His body language was paramount in my assessment and the more he acted, the more he revealed. My blade was a hand's reach away and ready to breath.

SPOILER: Click to show

Cunning Mind
Rank: D, C, B, A, S
Type: Passive / Specialized Taijutsu / Kendo
Range: 0-5 Meters
Stamina: N/A
Special: Allows the user to become highly perceptive of their opponent, allowing them to analyze their mannerisms in order to zone in on weaknesses and vulnerable areas to strike. It is important to note that while this does not automatically grant the user evasion against one single attack, this allows the user to have a much, much improved chance at understanding a Taijutsu attack one rank lower than the highest one known.
Description: Through repeated duals, clashing of swords and study of adversaries, the user has gained an uncanny knack for analysis. This manifests itself in numerous ways, such as discovering hidden weaknesses, finding vulnerable points in both weapons and attire as well determining the opportune moment to strike by observing patterns.
Domain: Kendo.

[Gentlemanne]

''Ja, zhat's it, Bandit. Pull zhe stick out of your fagina and lay into him!"

I laughed as the hippo my friend faced stood up and tried to take action, the slow, lumbering speed of him was none of my concern, though. Instead, I was stuck with the gorilla of a man before me, he was muscular, sure, but the most intimidating part of him was his height. I'm sure he was renowned around here if the fearful stares were anything to go by, but he wasn't something I couldn't handle. Right?

''.. Oh fuck."

I barely had enough time to move as the large, lumbering man threw a straight punch at me, my only saving grace being my insane flexibility. Dodging with a backwards turn, I glanced up at his fist and gave a small smirk, the retraction of his arm warning me to the second punch that was sent towards my stomach. ''Uh-uh!" I giggled giddily before sliding to the side of it on my knee, a single arm slinking around his tree-trunk sized limb to hold on, looks like I was going for a ride!

''Oi, get off me, cunt! Fight like a fuckin' man!"

''NEIN, STOP FIGHTING LIKE A GORILLA!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs, the wild swinging making me laugh wildly before I skittered up his limb and grabbed onto his head, my limbs wiggling all over the place like spaghetti incarnate. What could he do when I was on his back, though? Nothing, that's what. Gaining leverage, I used my clawed hand to pull at his shirt and rip myself up, his attempts at grabbing my legs in vain as I sneaked to his weak point: his table sized back!

''Now, be a good little boy and go to sleep, ja~?"

I laughed wildly as I yanked myself up further; this was going to be fun! Slipping my left leg around his neck, and ultimately beneath his chin, I watched on carefully and quickly mobilized my free leg, the lanky limb sending a powerful knee into his back, which caused the mammoth of a man to reel back in pain, allowing me a bit of time to keep it locked in.

''JAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHA, COME ON, BANDIT! ARE YOU HAVINK TROUBLE!?"

I screamed, my leg pulling my body up enough to rest my ass on his head, the large mohawk he was spawning poking out of my groin comically, the sight of it bringing a genuine bout of laughter to my lips. ''Ja, and look how big it is, darlink. Don't try and deny it, I know you vant a little touchy!"

''Oi.. get off me fuckin' head!"

''Nein."

With that, I tightened my grip and relished the sound of a crack, his neck being contorted by my extremely tight grip. With a shrug, I stared down at Bandit and narrowed my eyes, almost challenging him to try and put on a better show than me.

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SPOILER: Click to show

Tsurutsuru Hebi (Slippery Serpent)
Rank: C
Type: Supplementary / Specialized Taijutsu / Savage Strike Arts
Range: N/A
Stamina: N/A (Mid upkeep per turn for flexibility)
Special: Once they assume their stance, the user can opt to add an additional amount of flexibility to their body, allowing them to shift their weight far easier, contort themselves to the point that they appear dislocated from their joints and ultimately weave around attacks in a more efficient fashion. (Note: This does not automatically dodge techniques and is reliant on clever RP'ing to get proper use out of it.)
Description: Taking on the principles of a snake, the user will funnel more effort into their muscles and ligaments to loosen themselves up, allowing them to take on an even more liquid posture. By shifting their weight quickly, weaving, turning and slipping around, the user is able to contort themselves in and around areas they usually couldn't, such as dodging multiple things at a time and forcing themselves into narrow spaces. Movement during is neither impeded or increased, instead, it allows them to take the current speed they've got and use it to its fullest potential. As an additional strength for the technique, the user is able to balance themselves in ways they usually couldn't, such as balancing all their weight on one leg, or shifting their weight whilst close to the ground.
Domain: Savage Strike Arts.

Setsunai Kobura (Suffocating Cobra)
Rank: B
Type: Offensive / Specialized Taijutsu / Savage Strike Arts
Range: Arms reach.
Stamina: High + Mid upkeep.
Special: During Tsurutsuru Hebi, the user will wrap one or two limbs around an opponent and immediately squeeze, utilizing their equally strong, but far more flexible muscles in a form of constriction. The opponent takes B-Ranked damage initially, as well as damage equal to their rank in ''Savage Soul" assuming a critical hit is struck. Additional damage may be applied by constricting again, though it takes an additional ''High" amount of stamina to do so. Force equal to one less than the users ''Savage Soul" rank is required to remove the binding.
Description: Further delving into the nature of a snake, the user will wrap one, two, three or even four limbs around the opponent, and begin constricting their loose muscles. By clenching around the opponent, the user can dislocate and even break bones, or suffocate the opponent assuming they are holding onto something related to air flow. Whilst constricting the opponent, their limb will go numb and be useless, but will retain its use assuming the user hasn't damaged it too much.

One Turn(s): Slight numbness, the users strength and speed with the bound limb is halved.
Two Turns: Complete numbness, the limb is unable to move until one turn after the user is removed. If wrapped around an area involving breathing/air flow, the opponent will begin to get light headed and sluggish.
Three Turns: Assuming the limb is not already broken/dislocated, it will be promptly ripped out of socket and fractured. If wrapped around an area involving breathing/air flow, the opponent will lose vision and all Taijutsu and speed will be cut in half for two turns after the user is removed.
Four Turns: The limb will begin getting crushed and finally break, assuming it hasn't already. Already broken arms will be crushed further, mashing the muscles with the broken bones. If wrapped around an area involving breathing/air flow, the opponent will pass out and begin the final stages of suffocation.
Five Turns: The limb will be completely torn apart internally, due to the bones and muscles being ground together. Use of the limb will be null until medical treatment is sought out. If wrapped around an area involving breathing/air flow, the opponent will suffocate, causing them to die.
Domain: Savage Strike Arts. Requires ''Tsurutsuru Hebi".


Banteki Konpaku (Savage Soul)
Rank: D, C, B, A, S
Type: Passive / Specialized Taijutsu / Savage Strike Arts
Range: Arms reach.
Stamina: N/A
Special: Allows the user to embrace their violent, savage feelings and imbue it into their techniques. By training to release their grip on their conscious and morals, the user is able to strike in flurries of murderous, yet precise strikes. With each rank in this technique, the user will become more in-tune with their feral nature, allowing them to instinctively strike at more vulnerable areas of a structure, whether it be a living being or an object. This in turn grants the user a chance, relative to the rank of the technique, to do bonus damage to the target whenever they use their fingers/claws. (Note: This does not stack with other style's taijutsu.)
Description: Letting go is the fundamental practice of Banteki Konpaku. For one to be part of the style, they must be willing to give up their weakest emotions. Formed around the basis of being brutal and violent, Banteki Konpaku allows the user to strike with just their fingers and claws, which are often splayed out in the form of an animalistic claw. By tuning into their disturbing nature, the practitioner can reflexively go strictly for weak areas, allowing their strikes to be more precise and deadly.

D: 20% to add base rank damage to attacks.
C: 40%
B: 60%
A: 80%
S: 100%

Domain: Savage Strike Arts

2xLow
1xMid

[Jae]

''Ja, zhat's it, Bandit. Pull zhe stick out of your fagina and lay into him!"

I chortled at his rallying cry, despite being attentive of the behemoth attempting to flatten me like an insect. Yet, even in the midst of dodging the fat fuck's sundering blows, I couldn't help but notice Fancy through my peripherals. His movements were some of the fastest I'd ever seen and that was noteworthy in and of itself given my own reaction time, which I secretly vaunted over.

Another sloppy hammer fist came down in my direction and I responded by rolling to the inside of the strike, so as to circle my opponent and keep Fancy and his antics in clear view. There was no rigidity in his movements, everything was fluid and concise; not an ounce of strength was wasted during his onslaught. Meanwhile my fat friend seemed to realize I wasn't paying him the respect he felt he deserved, letting his dissatisfaction be heard in an almost illegible cry.


"'ey! pay attenshun yer wee shoite! Oi'm gonna grind yisser bones an' snort dem whaen oi'm done witcha!"

Is'zat right, I thought to myself as I let my attention fall solely onto him. His footing had changed to not favor his right arm raining down. Instead he adopted a pose that left his right foot propped over his left while his knees bent. His lumbering body swayed with every strained breath he took and his tattooed visage adopted a look of confidence. If I had him figured out like I thought I did, this was supposed to be his game ender.


"Git ready for de MAMMOTH TYPHOON 'AMMER"

As soon as he finished, I noticed a number of patrons attempt to rush for the exit doors. His salivating maw heaved intense breaths and before I realized it, I could feel the floor tremble beneath us. His knees bent further to adopt a half-squat position and his feet, given their placement, caused him to rotate once... and then twice... and then three times. Soon afterward his appearance became nothing short of a blur and it became harder and harder to distinguish his characteristics from within his rapid whirling.

I assumed he would begin bouncing all over the place like a gyrating top so I planted my feet shoulder width apart to gain some footing. And then I noticed something type peculiar; the chairs and tables around him were literally flying in his direction, only to be minced into dust upon entering his revolving trap. That was when the pressure started to get to me as well and I began noticing it was hard to keep my footing. I dug my heels into the wood below to no avail and I watched as unwitting patrons had also been carried from their original positions into the fray.


"NO! NOOOO~!" One man yelled as he and the table he held onto for dear life flew into the torrent.

They never came back out and the color of his tornado-like countenance changed from a light gray to blood red. I didn't know if Fancy felt the same powerful drawing sensation that I had, but I knew that if I didn't do something quick it was potentially lights out for me. My heels scratched the hardwood floor below as I dug to keep from losing ground, assessing all that I could as I slid.

Strangely enough, his movements reminded me of a time when I was caught for petty theft and undergoing processing. I waited for hours that day and to pass the time I watched the ceiling fan blades go round-and-round until my brain couldn't take it anymore. I watched as the big man's rotation kept him planted where he chose, my object of choice was his right arm and fist. As the distance between us burned away, I watched his spin and timed the moment that his right fist would return directly in line with me.

He spun at roughly three turns per second which meant the window to interrupt his technique was very short. The closer I got, the more evident it became and by the time I was no more than two meters away I knew when to strike. I drewm my blade just as the last meter was devoured and I could actually feel the cutting wind against my face, extending it at the moment he faced me with both his arms stretched to his side. I felt the cusp of my sword pierce his protruding gut and turned it horizontally upon impact, letting his momentum do the rest of the work.

The blood red tornado he'd formed became more pronounced, thicker and darker, as I held onto my sword handle with all of my strength, pushing against his momentum to carve into his abdominals. Blood slung against the walls, against the table tops, against the television, against the jukebox, against Fancy, against myself and anyone who happened to be in the bar at the time. His entrails slung all around the bar until the momentum he'd gained with his technique finally died down and all that was left was a pair of legs and slop.

His head remained in tact and his expression was the same stupid one he wore the moment he started. A look of pleasure overtook my face as I stood, huffing a sigh through my nostrils before walking up to the lifeless head. I freed my hands by grotesquely stabbing my blade into it's face in order to wipe my hands, a sloppy sound echoing throughout the area as I turned to Fancy, who stood over his felled opponent.

"Grrrrrr..... I just bought this jacket," I cried loudly, removing my blood stained duster to examine the damage. I really hadn't just bought it. In fact, I'd stolen it from some random Kusa-nin a while back. I let my crows eat the bugs that contaminated it and took it for myself.

SPOILER: Click to show

Cunning Mind
Rank: D, C, B, A, S
Type: Passive / Specialized Taijutsu / Kendo
Range: 0-5 Meters
Stamina: N/A
Special: Allows the user to become highly perceptive of their opponent, allowing them to analyze their mannerisms in order to zone in on weaknesses and vulnerable areas to strike. It is important to note that while this does not automatically grant the user evasion against one single attack, this allows the user to have a much, much improved chance at understanding a Taijutsu attack one rank lower than the highest one known.
Description: Through repeated duals, clashing of swords and study of adversaries, the user has gained an uncanny knack for analysis. This manifests itself in numerous ways, such as discovering hidden weaknesses, finding vulnerable points in both weapons and attire as well determining the opportune moment to strike by observing patterns.
Domain: Kendo.

Disabling Prod
Rank: A
Type: Offensive / Taijutsu
Range: 0-5 Meters
Stamina: Very High
Special: A precision based attack in which the user targets a support structure of the opponent's body. By attacking it with a forceful thrust or lightning quick slice, the user can effectively disable them. Can be used once per turn, plus one more each time retrained. Though this does not automatically guarantee a hit as RP determines everything, it increases the chances of it occurring greatly.
Description: The human body is a truly fragile thing, composed of glass bones and paper skin, held together by nothing more then flimsy joints and weak tendons. By taking advantage of this structural points, however, we can bring an enemy to their knees. Once the user has his enemies patterns and motion down, he can begin to work them into position. When the opportunity to strike something such as an Achilles tendon, a shoulder joint or the spinal column arises, they act quick and blindingly disable it. Such a catastrophic injury requires medical attention before it operates the same again.
Domain: The Gentleman’s Art, Cunning Mind “A”

Driving Thrust
Rank: D, C, B, A, S
Type: Passive / Specialized Taijutsu / Kendo
Range: 0-5 meters
Stamina: N/A
Special: Allows the user to increase the accuracy and danger of their thrusting maneuvers, thus resulting in more 'critical hits' - this translates to bonus damage depending on the highest rank known of this jutsu. Made possible by continual work on form and offensive training, this makes up the base of the users attacking capabilities. Highest rank known determines technique strength at which these deadly piercing techniques take place.
D: +20% critical chance
C: +40%
B: +60%
A: +80%
S: +100%

Description: The basis of any real offensive game for a fencer, this technique determines their ability to thrust. Through long practice of form, strength and speed building as well as analysis of grip and striking mechanics, the user is able to generate much greater forces for their piercing attacks.
Domain: The Gentleman's Art

[sachi]

Well, things were just getting more and more hectic for little ol' Triton! All he had wanted to do was cook some good food and enjoy some good company, but no sooner did he leave in search of just that did he lose track of his brother - and knowing Hagan, he wasn't going to last too long out there without some food, so the least Triton could do was cook for him, right? The Airontoku lad had damn near searched the entire country side before he'd managed to catch sight of a lone building amidst the canyons and arid surroundings, and to be honest he wasn't exactly sure what it was - well, at least until he got close enough to see the word "bar".

"Ooooh! This is my best bet!"

He yelled out to himself, his new-found hope giving him a sudden burst of energy as his legs quickly broke into a full on sprint, arms pumping furiously at his sides. The place seemed pretty nice to be honest, the sound of music heard clearly even from a distance, the large canyons and vast terrain carrying the sound pretty far, but what stood out wasn't what he heard, but what he'd see merely seconds before closing in on the "Bar Sun". In an obvious panic, several men had literally burst through the doors, running in what looked like fear for their lives, the large door swinging open just long enough to catch what happened next - blood, spraying in all directions.

"He's definitely here!"

Triton could only assume it was his brother, I mean who else would be killing people in a bar in such a far off place?

"Hagan?"

Light steps carried him to the entrance, slowly peeking his head passed the door, fiery-red eyes quickly flicking left to right, scanning the room for sight of his brother. And well, what he seen he couldn't say surprised him, but shit, it was still weird! Hagan was wrapped around a g-

"GIANT!"

Triton made a mad dash for the corpse of the man it appeared Hagan had killed, the oblivious boy's curiosity getting the best of him as he poked at the body, looking it up and down... he had never cooked one of these before! With a large grin Triton jumped to his feet, head swinging side to side in search of a kitchen, I mean, they had to have one right?!

"I'm on it!"

He spun without another word, not so much as even a nod of recognition to his brother or uncle, or even the stranger who seemed responsible for the blood that literally soaked the entire room, instead he just dived over the counter, shoving his way passed the bartender and threw a door he only assumed would lead to the kitchen. Loud bangs and crashes could be heard clearly after Triton had disappeared behind the door, and within moments two men with tall white hats would literally go flying through the door, obvious kitchen dominance now established!

"Okay okay okay! Hagan, how do you want it?!"

[Gentlemanne]

''JAHAHAHA, IT'S JUST LIKE RIDINK A BULL!"

I was having the time of my life, the giant that I sat upon didn't seem to share my enjoyment, though. As I unfurled my leg from his neck, I glanced down in awe as he fell onto the floor, his large, powerful hands slapping the floor like he was dead. What the hell was he doing? As if a wave of knowledge crashed over me, I instinctively looked down and sighed, my mouth agape. He died already?

''.. Vhat zhe fuck?"

Before I could even grasp what the hell was going on, the warthog that my companion fought began spinning, the vicious vacuum that he emanated from his body making me deathly curious. Was he a human blender? Before too long, the suction of his body began taking its tole on both me and my victim, the whirling of his body seemingly enough to suck in a straggler and his tables, the blood red mist that sprayed my face signaling that the boy was indeed dead, but.. what was this?

''Jahahaha.. nein, nein. NEIN, ZHAT IS NOT ZHE PLAN, ZHAT IS. NOT. ZHE. PLAN!"

Screaming at the top of my lungs, I felt my primal instincts take over, the loosened grip of my legs allowing me to slide off of the man's neck and onto the floor. This was what I needed. Holding onto his vest tightly, I watched him with blood red eyes, the deadpan, glassy eyed stare he gave me making me nearly vomit with anger, I can't believe he died that quick. I didn't even get to finish.

''Don't vorry.. I'll make zhis nice and slow. I know you love it, too."

Before the large man could suck in my meal, I dug in, my clawed hand pressing through the floor, and with it, I held on for my life. As my companion took a few strides forward and seemingly gave into the vacuum, I screamed out, my hand holding the giant steady as he made his move, a flash of metal the only thing I was able to see due to my foggy vision, the wind that assaulted me enough to make my eyes water.

''Jahahaha, not bad, Bandit."

I murmured my words maniacally through my teeth, my finger affectionately scraping circles into the back of my meals neck. But what was I doing, letting this man take the stage? No, I wasn't about to let him show me up, I still had tricks up my sleeve. I could rip open his corpse and wear him like a suit, I could remove his spine, anything. I was without limits, truly. Man, I was good. But as I prepared to put on the show of a lifetime, I looked to the side, my foster brother Triton was here!

''Ja, hello, herr kessel! I vas.. er.. lookink for you, ja. I zhought might hafe been here."

Chuckling nervously, I shrugged my shoulders and gave the large man a kick in the head for a good measure. You could never be sure with these big ape types, they always had some way of coming back from the ground. But not this one, no. If that little bone that jutted out the side of his neck was any indication, he was down for the count. Truthfully, I was disappointed. I wanted to get some mileage out of him, but he just finished too quick.

''Oooooonce, ja. Zhat vas much more fun zhan barts, ja?"

I mused coyly, my hand patting the dark corpses face before readjusting his vest and hair in order to make him a little more presentable. Everything tasted better when you put a little more effort into the presentation, right? That went doubly as much for a person, visuals were anything. If I couldn't dig in and enjoy the view, what was the point? I might as well go eat dry wall at that rate.

''Jaaaaaaaaaa, zhis is much better. So, Bandit, vhat should ve do vith zhis mess? My brozher is just goink to make me somezhink to eat, I've been starvink for days."

My words came out in a muffled, spluttery tone as the drool that seeped from my lips fell to the ground. It was a messy situation, all this blood, drool and tension, it really built up my appetite. And with my favorite little chef in the building, why fight it? After all, I was sure dear Uncle and our guest could appreciate my handiwork. This was their first time seeing me in action and I was sure I delighted them at the very least.

''Triton, cook zhis corpse only. I don't eat ozher peoples vork."

I shrugged my shoulders, stepping up off of the mammoth to display him to my fostered kin. He was a magnificent specimen, truly amazing. One look at him gave away my handiwork, a neat hole through his neck and only a small puddle of blood giving away that he was infact dead, truly magnificent. As I let out another bellowing laugh and leaped forward, my face quickly twisted into a sick grin, my hands rubbing themselves together as I awaited my meal.

''Mmm, I didn't scare you, did I? Zhe name is Hagan, by zhe vay. Zhough I feel like you von't be using it very often."

I spoke through my grin, my arms stretching as I worked out the kinks from my attack. It was so hard being strong, you know? Being able to slay people wasn't something that came easily, or without its downsides, but as it was now, I was sated. What better way to wash down that horse piss I was given than a good old fashioned fight and a five star meal!?

''Do you vant your victim cooked too?"

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SPOILER: Click to show

Banteki Konpaku (Savage Soul)
Rank: D, C, B, A, S
Type: Passive / Specialized Taijutsu / Savage Strike Arts
Range: Arms reach.
Stamina: N/A
Special: Allows the user to embrace their violent, savage feelings and imbue it into their techniques. By training to release their grip on their conscious and morals, the user is able to strike in flurries of murderous, yet precise strikes. With each rank in this technique, the user will become more in-tune with their feral nature, allowing them to instinctively strike at more vulnerable areas of a structure, whether it be a living being or an object. This in turn grants the user a chance, relative to the rank of the technique, to do bonus damage to the target whenever they use their fingers/claws. (Note: This does not stack with other style's taijutsu.)
Description: Letting go is the fundamental practice of Banteki Konpaku. For one to be part of the style, they must be willing to give up their weakest emotions. Formed around the basis of being brutal and violent, Banteki Konpaku allows the user to strike with just their fingers and claws, which are often splayed out in the form of an animalistic claw. By tuning into their disturbing nature, the practitioner can reflexively go strictly for weak areas, allowing their strikes to be more precise and deadly.

D: 20% to add base rank damage to attacks.
C: 40%
B: 60%
A: 80%
S: 100%

Domain: Savage Strike Arts

Hiboshi Inu (Starving Dog)
Rank: C
Type: Offensive / Specialized Taijutsu / Savage Strike Arts
Range: Arms reach.
Stamina: Mid.
Special: A one or two handed strike that aims to stab the users fingers/claws into the opponent, pinning them in place and allowing the user to hold on until they are removed. The users penetrative power is equal to their rank in ''Savage Soul" if a critical hit is struck. The force required to remove them from their flesh/body/object is equal to one less rank than their ''Savage Soul" training. The user remains latched on until they are removed.
Description: Taking the principle of a starving dog, the user will either slash, thrust or grab at their target and force their makeshift weapon(s) inside of them. Once they've penetrated it, the user will hold on for dear life, either to continue ripping at their opponent or to simply hold on. The targets size is not a problem, as long as the user can manage to get the majority of their fingers inside of the surface. Skilled Savage Soul practitioners will be able to take advantage of this position, whether it is with grapples, binding or simply ripping at their victim.
Domain: Savage Strike Arts



3xLow
1xMid

[Jae]

"GIANT!"

The shout jarred on my ears and demanded my eyes fix on the Bar Sun's entrance, which revealed a wiry youth that comfortably sprinted toward Fancy. Given his fondness for flaying others, I gazed anxiously for what I knew would be another blood bath. But once they met, and nothing happened, I soon realized there was more to the boy than just a reckless curiosity. They were chummy, even moreso than Fancy and I were, and watching them immediately got boring so I tossed my jacket back onto my shoulders and moved to retrieve my blade.

Yank! When I removed it from the ground, the head stuck to it and sliiiiid all the way down to where I gripped. I'd hoist the severed head up to eye level in order to observe the piece of my work. "MAMMOTH TYPHOOOOON 'AMMER," I bellowed mockingly before slinging my blade horizontally, launching the fresh pate across the bar only for it to smash into the dartboard across the way.

''Oooooonce, ja. Zhat vas much more fun zhan barts, ja?"

"Damn right," I murmured while observing the results of my handiwork. Every corner of the pub seemed to be covered in either blood or some kind of unsightly plaque, which ruined the prospect of me truly enjoying my deed. "Shit job, mate. Shit job," I mused, shaking my head in disappointment until another one of Fancy's calls caught my ear.

"So, Bandit, vhat should ve do vith zhis mess? My brozher is just goink to make me somezhink to eat, I've been starvink for days."

Whatever they'd said to one another had completely gone over my head. I was mostly in my own world, brooding over the loss of my meal, but after the proverbial light bulb clicked I quickly put it together that the boy I'd just seen (who had suddenly disappeared) was in fact his sibling. "Nothin' but crow's feed at this point," I sighed disappointingly while sizing up the much fresher corpse resting beneath Fancy.

Normally I'd hide such a socially repulsive attribute like my taste for flesh but my hunger and the smell of fresh slaughter left me with little regard for restraint. My belly whined for just a morsel of his lean cut kill and my eyes didn't leave the corpse, even when moved to speak. Truthfully, he talked more than I cared to pay attention. I think he said his name was Hagas? Hayden? It didn't matter because his final request is what fully garnered my interest.

''Do you vant your victim cooked too?"

I raised my eyes from the cadaver to his own where a look of craving had completely taken over. "There's too much fat on mine, mate," I said debasingly before leaning in closer to Fancy.

"How's about a spot of yours, eh?"

[sachi]

Finally, Triton was going to get to cook! His excitement couldn't be contained, he was smiling big and moving at a ridiculous pace, darting back and forth in the kitchen, checking out their utensils, ingredients and cooking supplies, all the while trying to plan out a meal in his head. The young Airontoku was going through a shelf of spices when it came to him what he wanted to make, how about a giant kebab? Literally! He beamed a large grin, poking his head out the door of the kitchen so that his brother and apparent friend were in view, his awesome idea no doubt showing through his facial expression,

"Hagan! Do me a favour and slice up some really lean parts, okay?"

And without another word or so much as a pause to hear a response, he disappeared back into the kitchen, Triton now standing before the stove, red eyes glaring down at it,

"Tch! Who needs you?!"

He flexed his left leg and threw a hard kick at it, placing a nice-sized dent in the side of its shiny white exterior - I mean, who needed these stupid things anyways? Triton was basically a walking stove after all! But now the only question that remained was, how did he want to cook these kebabs? He supposed he would need some pans to channel his heat, otherwise he might burn the whole place down, and maybe a few spices here and there - oh, and some vegetables! His rummaging would continue for only a few minutes more, his bag quickly filling with cayenne, barbecue sauce, a variety of vegetables and even a pineapple he'd found!

"Okay, we're ready!"

He'd come smashing back through the door, frying pans sent flying towards Hagan across the floor with a kick, seeing as his hands were full with everything else,

"I have a cool idea. . ."

He placed the various ingredients neatly on the floor - in perhaps one of the only spots not covered in blood - before reaching behind him, stabbing two of his katana into the ground,

". . . Giant GIANT kebabs!"

Soon as they picked out their preferred slab of meat, Triton would fix them up something special!

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