amethyst.

[BLKND]

CHAPTER amethyst.
POST one
OOC training; storyline

The taste of stale, dried blood coated his mouth, and the licks at his tired chops would show his appreciation of it. Two eyes would be bombarded with the light of an exhausted bulb, the only electric lighting left functional in this room. It had been flickering for a considerable amount of time, however it had fallen on blind eyes until now. The course, painful feeling of a cracked rib would continue to scale the insides of his cage. It would scream for him to respond, to do something to change his position, but he was a bit too lazy to comply. Instead, he would focus more of his energy on waking up. The flickering electric bulb would continue to lose focus as he stared, blinking occasionally. Eventually, his eyes would grow tired of the strength of the light, and he would look away; the image of his current fate flooding an array of memories back into his blank scalp. Blood covered the walls, dry and dull to match the feeling that his body would hold on to. Bodies would remain slumps on the floor, some moving, some trying, and some haven given up. The room itself was indescribable. Drab color choices and with the only light being a flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling, there was a bit to be desired for decor as well. The feeling of sharp rope, cutting against his wrist, would remind him as to how it is that he arrived. Everything was starting to make sense, despite the pain, still jutting against his side. A man, no taller than six feet and three inches would continue to beat him, in his mind's eye. The image of a revolving fist hitting him in the face, the body, the neck, the legs; over and over until he could no longer feel was repeating so many times. He was forced to remember. However, as he failed to stare at the light, something else caught his attention in the real world. It was the body that lay directly in front of him. A woman, caught in a slump which would make her appear to have simply dozed off for a casual nap. Her head would lay back against the wall, and her arms would rest off to her sides as her legs would stretch outward in a plain sitting position. Her name was Kiva, if he could recall correctly. Her tussled black hair had fallen in front of her face, and the blood from her concussive wound had collected into a small pool underneath her. Her bare hands were feeble, and small... though they didn't hesitate to cause him pain. He was relieved to see her this way. Her uniform matched those of all the other medics in the room who had been hired for this freelance job. It was their own fault however for engaging in such ruthless interrogation tactics. The sound of silence would more than likely mean that her comrades had also been silenced, and that soon, this pain would go away.

"Babylon has fallen." A sharp, feminine voice would call out into the room from the secrecy of either the darkness, or this man's many blind spots.

"Aye; but Babylon endures." He would reply with literally all the force he could manage, the pain of his ribs growing silent in comparison to the pain that he now felt in his jaw.

Within an instant, a multitude of masked figures would melt away from the darkness; surrounding him within an instant. Horrid cream masks would hide their true identities, and skin tight body suits would hide their genders. It was only their voices, which were hidden well which would leave hints as to who they were. Despite revealing themselves, the lot would remain in a hostile appearance. Having obviously heard a code that would allow them to trust this injured man, it was now time for his confirmation.

"We have the package." Another voice would say, distinctly.

[BLKND]

CHAPTER amethyst.
POST two.
OOC training; storyline

He could recognize these voices; their faces on the other hand, he could not recognize. Their masks were effective as their abilities, and with the score of wounded and battered bodies strewn across the floor, it was quite clear that their abilities were effective to say the least. A slight buzz in the ear of every single one of them would make the noise loud enough for the man to hear it as well. While it was short, it was more than enough for him to understand what was going on. They were ready to save him. A swift and violent hacking of the bindings which would keep him attached to the chair would quickly make them come undone. His arms, ribs, stomach and legs would feel an instant breath of fresh air that would come along with freedom. The massive knife that one of them would carry quickly dispatching of the remainder of his bindings which had kept his hands and feet together behind his back. While the bindings had dug sharply into his skin, the time needed to make himself feel comfortable was time wasted, and within an instant he would find himself over the shoulder of one of the tall, masked men that had crowded him to begin with.

"You can recover on our way out. Let us know when you're ready." The same distinct voice would proclaim as they would begin to head through the door that had been torn open by an obvious brute force.

Blood would coat almost every hallway that this small troupe would find their way through. It was clear that they wanted to leave survivors to a minimum, and it would appear that they were quite proficient at it. However, it wouldn't be long before another buzz would come emit from their helmets, echoing slightly in the vacant hallways in which they would make their ways through. However, being over the shoulder of one of them, it was clear to hear what was being said this time. Oppositional reinforcements were arriving... and they had intentions to surround the compound. While he had not been directed the message himself, his comrades were not hesitant to react as though he had. Quickly lifting him from his shoulder and back onto the ground, the massive, masked man would place the young man in a standing position, holding his shoulders to ensure he wouldn't fall over. He didn't.

"Take this. We're going to be operating procedure phi." The massive man would say quickly, and quietly, while shoving a considerably heavy knife into the hands of the young man.

His fingers ground grip the handle, and without hesitation, his back would turn from the group, as their own backs would turn from each other. It was an odd dance, leaving a large space in the middle of their squadron before all holding their arms higher, as for a single, one handed seal to be directly in front of their faces. Within an instant they would vanish, leaving only one behind; the previous prisoner. Wading his way through the pool of fluids at his feet, he would waste no time in his attempt to find the exit.

His mission was a simple one. He had been captured twelve hours ago, caught in an attempt to retrieve information stolen from one of Kumogakure's fallen ninja. His name was irrelevant, and the information taken from him was minor; the villages location. However, considering that these men worked for an organization, internationally known, there was no telling what hands that information could fall in to. It was supposed to be a low-risk procedure. However, when they revealed their trump card, the one-man mission soon became an eight man mission, with the focus being redirected to retrieval.

[BLKND]

CHAPTER amethyst.
POST three.
OOC training; storyline

Regardless, this mission was far from over, and they were far from safe. Having been left alone, injured, and wanting, the young man would slowly make his way through the caverns, clear and cautious with each and every turn he would make. Each corner would reveal a new surprise, waiting to catch him off guard. They had captured him with what appeared to be a device that could nullify his chakra nature. However, considering the simplicity of this group, as well as a quite thorough briefing, for the group to contain a device such as that was not only surprising, but eerie. It was something he had seen before, but given the circumstances, for him to be the only one assigned to the mission, and being the only one who solely relied on that nature, made his capture exceedingly simple. Being overtaken by quick and easy blows, his moderate hand-to-hand training stood poorly against their ninjutsu and focused taijutsu. In fact, what made the situation the most odd, was the mention of his name during interrogation. While it was simply his code name for this mission specifically, it was still information that no one from an outside source should have been able to pick up on, especially considering that this was a low-risk procedure, and strained little to no communication with base.

He was lucky to have been found.

With his arm coursing his side in an attempt to cradle his rib, his shoulders would brush passed each door, clinging tightly to the knife given to him by his comrade. He had lost his helmet, and thus his radio and goggles. He was just as blind as his enemy in this situation, which is why this procedure* made the most sense. It would take a moment, but eventually the young man would reach a clearing inside of the compound, and what he remembered to be the main hallway. He was so close to the exit... he could smell the fresh air ruminating from underneath the massive iron doors that kept the sunlight at bay. With his head hung low, and his shoulders forward, he would rush to the wall, doing his best to blend in with the darkness which covered the room. The sound of whispers were growing louder, and the clacking of sandals would reveal that the enemy was on his trail. He was going to have to fight. While his injuries weren't severe, they were severe enough for him to be cautious when facing these men. After all, while they only had one device which could cancel his chakra, it wasn't clear which one of them possessed it, or which ones were aware how to use it. If he wasn't careful; he was a goner.

"I heard movement. He's around here." A voice would call out, thick with the accent of Kagi no Kuni.

He sounded like a masculine figure, and a voice that the young man had heard at some point during his capture. Ripe with anticipation, he would waste no time in forming a few quick seals, preparing for a surprise attack that be sure to at least buy him time to find a better hiding position. It wasn't long before they would reveal themselves, walking casually through the corridors and into the hallway. There were only two of them, and while they were only walking, they seemed to be evaluating each piece of the room as though they had things to say. The young man's eyes were clear and fixated upon them, the hallway's use of decorative pillars making it that much easier to hide his presence, given they had not attempted to use any sort of tracking ninjutsu.

"He's not here... let's just regroup with the others. We don't have the device anyway." One would say in a worried tone, clasping the shoulder of the other one.

They had been draped in massive, blue robes, similar to those worn by Kirigakure ninja, however given their status as non-ninja, it was quite possible that they could have just been salvaged from either a visit or trade involving the village. However, what made this all the more interesting was that what these two men were wearing appeared to be uniform for this compound, as if they were somehow a part of an organized militia of non-ninja, or syndicate. He had to find out.

"Don't be afraid of him. He's a mess; nothing like when he first arrived. No, the fire in his eyes died when we put him in his cage. Hehe." He would chuckle a bit, looking around for the possibility that he could overhear. "Besides, even if he could fight like that again, his goal would be to escape, not to engage. If he sees us, he's going to run. Plain and simple."

[BLKND]

CHAPTER amethyst.
POST four.
OOC training; storyline

They were right. What was left of him now, was a cracked rib, tattered jaw and a large knife. He was nothing of what he was before, and for him to even assume differently would end in a considerably unpromising position. Lifting their feet, the men would begin to search a bit more before the latter would eventually convince his partner that their time would be better sent searching areas that were a bit less 'vacant.' It would buy him some time at least, and he could finally release his hands from each other, sparing some sort of pain from his ribs. Lifting his spirits, and his knees, he would reach for the knife, lugging it along with his one good hand, the other having grown numb with the pain shooting through his thorax.

Procedure Phi was a special procedure that would only be used in situations where victory is not an option. Of course, there were a number of procedures which followed the same concept, but what made Procedure Phi so different, was that it followed the extreme circumstance that there would be a weak link; in this case, a man known only as 'Yonaka.' With bent knees, a bloody face and a damaged spirit, it would appear as though he was on a mission to reach a certain position within the compound. Having been blindfolded upon his capture, he had no idea where anything was, other than the way he had come from. This was because in Procedure Phi, it would be the responsibility of the weakest link to find the exit, while the rest of his team provide accessory support from a distance. In this situation, it would be their duty to keep their locations completely private, both from their enemies, as well as their ally. Considering the strain of the situation, if anything were to occur that would absolutely require their attention, they would provide as much support as possible; without revealing their location, in case the weak link was to expire.

It had been used countless times, specifically in rescue situations such as these, however, it was Yonaka's first time having ever been that weak link. Being an expert in espionage, and having researched his mission for days before deployment, it was odd to be on this side of the procedure. His team mates were not as diligent, or had very different specialties; which would make their capture much more realistic... but now this was happening. Dragging his leg to ease the pain of any vibration on his sides, he was finding himself quickly fatigued with each extra step. However, while he was slowly growing more tired, it would be a sudden revelation that would seem to endow him with a 'second wind.'

As he found his way towards the end of a small corridor, he would soon find his two oddly colored eyes fixated on what appeared to be a human body, pinned against the concrete walls which lined this space. He was a man, dressed much like the other ninja which he had avoided earlier; however clearly not one of them. No, this man appeared to be much older, bearded, with a body that was clearly meant for close range combat. Jutting from his chest would appear to be an unmarked blade, a katana, hanging him about two feet from the floor. His head hung, and his blood still running; it was clear that this death was recent. That's when the questions began to erupt. Was there a mutiny within the ranks? There was a clear power distinction. Or perhaps this man had proven himself to be a traitor? However, if either of these were to be the case, there would be an evident sign of struggle... something that Yonaka would have picked up on a while ago. It was an odd sight, and soon this eerie sight would begin to prove to hold even more clues than he would have initially assumed. Hanging from his hand, gripped tightly within an iron grasp, would appear to be the very device which had caused his downfall earlier that day. It was a small, cylindrical item, its power much more foreboding than its image. Why would anyone leave this device behind?

This mystery was growing into something much bigger than he had expected... and much more potent than a simple killing. This was a brutal, and evident murder.

[BLKND]

CHAPTER amethyst.
POST five.
OOC training; storyline

Then again, if it was in fact a murder; then where was the struggle? Sure, he had mulled over the idea that he would have heard something through these vacant hallways, but aside from that, there was no aesthetic proof. The blood was within the same general area; the hands and knuckles of the man were left clean, evident that he did not strike or grasp anything before his demise; and finally, his clothes were flawlessly dressed. Either his opponent had left him no time to strike, or had surprised him from a distance. Either way, if a man of this assumed ability would be felled so easily, then Yonaka would be an even easier target. His hand would continue to grasp his side as he would long for the medicine that had grown to be a part of him. The pain was severe, and the trauma that would begin to corrupt his impressionable, sober mind was getting out of hand. His free hand would rummage through any pockets for the chance that they had missed a pill or two when confiscating everything on his person. It was to his chagrin that he would realize their efficiency. He would look around, as if having dropped his container before realizing that he was still being watched, or at least assumed to be so. Shaking his head, he would break free from his daze and begin to make his way away from the body. If the culprit was still around, then perhaps there was nothing that he could do. It was simply imperative that he remain as discreet as possible. Clenching onto the massive knife in his hands, he would rush at the opportunity that he could perhaps get out of this situation in one piece. However, as he would cling to the walls, looking back occasionally at the ghastly image of what appeared to be a deceased marauder.

He needed his pills.

The sounds of his memories would begin to ring in the back of his mind. The echo of screams, and the call of battle would remind him of his youth. The light of explosions would flash into his minds eye as he would begin to swat the air with sharp turns of his neck, looking around for potential harm that could come his way. He had to snap out of it. He was getting paranoid. Clinging to his side, he would begin to pick up his pace before turning at hard left into what appeared to be an abandoned room, the sound of rushing footsteps alerting him to the oncoming troupe making their way through the hallways on what could only be conceived as routine patrol. He was wrong.

"Pick up the pace, the report came from the west wing! Intruders have freed the prisoner!" One of them would shout as he would cut through the hallway at top speed, their arms flailing behind them as they poured through the concrete.

Peeking his head from the door to get a glimpse of where they were headed, Yonaka's first thought was that they might retrieve the contraption that had manipulated his chakra. However, as they would make a wrong turn to avoid the image of the dead body, he would let loose a light sigh. He had to escape; the mission could be taken up once more on a different day. Though as he would make his way from the seclusion of the room, he would soon be confronted with what he least expected. A straggler.

[BLKND]

CHAPTER amethyst.
POST six.
OOC training; storyline

He was tall. Of course, while he wasn't as tall as Yonaka, not many were. There was a chime in his halt; having quickly realized what position he had been placed in. Yonaka shared the feeling. While there wasn't much that either of them could do as of now, their shock having taken the best of them, it wouldn't take long for one of them to make an action that would take them on yet another surprise turn. Reaching for his waist, the man would brush aside his long, black robe, exposing his leg, and with it, the pack of kunai that he had strapped around it. It wasn't the best decision. After all, he was alone, and being the straggler, there was little chance of his comrades noticing his disappearance. Of coure, this also showed a bit of his despiration. As the straggler, there was no doubt that his employers as well as his allies had begun to expect less of him. As a warrior, that didn't cut it. With two pristine blue eyes, the young man would look at Yonaka from head to toe, all the while surveying the best way to make this kill clean. A dead weight had dropped from his shoulders, and he knew that if he reacted well, he would be promoted, or at very least: congratulated. At thing would work at this point. It was something that Yonaka had seen countless times before. A face of hope, and desperation, it was a sign of eagerness, and eagerness would often lead to weakness. He would too focused on winning, that he would forget to stay alive. A common fault in soldiers of his tier.

However, while Yonaka could see this quite clearly, there was one thing that he could not ignore... He was injured. A course look on his face would cause th eman to uproot faster, and then there was the caressing of his side at the hope to heal his injured bones. One wrong move, and it would all be over. The pain would get the best of him, and before he knew it, he would find himself impaled. Despite having both evaluated each other within a moment's glance, the only one to have made any real move was the man reaching for his weapons. His opposition would quickly follow suit. Abandoning his side, his hands would clasp together into their first hand seal. There was a bit of a pause before they would both realize what was happening. With one of them jarring themselves into cover, ducking his body lower to the ground as his knees would contort into a very high crouch, the other would have already begun his assault. A small handful of kunai would soon launch down the corridor, the thin red tags at their backs flittering in the power of their velocity. However these knives, making an ardent pull towards their target, would prove to be short lived. The hand seals had finished, and within an instant, a massive hydrant of water would burst from Yonaka's lips. Puckering his lips as the stream would begin to flow; the violent speed of the water was more than enough to overpower the throwing arm of another ninja. This, however, wouldn't be enough to stop the explosion soon to come. As the water would envelop the metal, there was no questioning that, as well as when it would begin to thrust it back in the opposite direction. With that knowledge, it would give the young man a good delay before activating the red tags which he had previously attached. Thrusting his index and middle fingers into the air, directly in front of his face, he would commence the explosions, sending a powerful oppositon to the stream of dangerous water headed in his direction.

While it was far from enough to stop the wave, it did deter the damage that he would feel without it. Quickly taking hold of him, it would thrust him to the ground, before lifting him back up and carrying him even further down the hallway as the water would begin to expand. Brushing past his ankles, the water would quickly take another form as Yonaka would prepare his second round of hand seals. The explosion would have alerted the others looking for him; and he had yet to get extraction or assistance. He had to end this quickly- or else..

[BLKND]

CHAPTER amethyst.
POST seven.
OOC training; storyline

The final string of seals would be completed in the blink of an eye, his precision having only sharpened over the years. His fingertips, though still bloody would traverse the fronts and ends of his palms as he would finalize the technique. Slapping both of his open palms firmly against the coursing water, there would be a sudden burst. Life would take hold of the stream below him and encamping his enemy. However, this life would be one most vicious. Contorting into an odd, arched shape, the blade of water would begin to form, and shoot through the liquid as though a shark's fin through the air. However, this fin would quickly contort once more, transforming into what appeared to be three incredibly straight lances. Stabbing through the hallway they would focus on the body of the young man, taken by surprise during this short scuffle. Throwing himself into the air, the jets would slice through the water he once laid in, however, he would long for shelter above him. Leaping to the moderately tall ceiling, his feet would plant firmly against the walls, his robe falling to his side as gravity would take its course. Dripping yet, it would not stop him from forming his own seals. It would take no time for him to finish before his hand rest before his mouth, and a massive ball of fire would be coursing through the hallway. Cutting the water with only its force, the speed, and heat of the thing was incredible. Bracing himself, he would quickly make due with what it was that he had; an escape route. Leaping to the side, he would instantly retreat into a different hallway, the water still flowing vigorously through the building. He had no way of communicating with his team, and it would have appeared that something had gone wrong. They should have appeared at the first sign of danger, now as the powerful ball of fire would careen into the ground, creating a massive upset of heat, and steam, they would be shrouded in the terrors of the unknown.

Clasping on to his side, a searing pain would begin to erupt from underneath his skin. His face would curl, and his eyes would slam shut, and as his feet would splash through the puddles below him, he knew that this was no longer a controlled situation. The sounds of footsteps would come from behind him, no doubt those of his enemy. Locking his knees to cease his retreat, his hand would abandon his side, quickly lifting his elbow to the air; smacking against the wrist of the man's hand. Within his grasp was a large kunai, prepped to stab Yonaka in the back of the neck. However, it was now being thrust to the side, only for the young man to follow up with an attempt to roundhouse kick Yonaka in his weakened side. It was unsuccessful. Spinning with his own blow, Yonaka would turn to face the kick dead on, his other elbow raising to block the kick with his forearm, and leaving his enemy in a desperate position. Quickly attempting to lower his shin, he would find himself too late. Before he knew it, his enemy had taken hold of his leg, and his only standing leg had been swept from underneath him. His back would land harshly against the ground, a small puddle beneath him bursting into the air. Before he knew it, he had been flipped to his front, and a swift kick would hit him hard in his knee cap. It wasn't enough to break his leg, but it was more than enough to dislocate it, fracturing some bones surrounding it. Of course, he couldn't tell right now. However, Yonaka could. It was a casual maneuver he had picked up in his childhood; and a very plausible way to give yourself time in situations like these. The screams of this young man's agony would reach the ears of the men that had already begun to make their way here due to the explosion. He had to go.

Rushing backwards, he would make his retreat. However, in his stomach there was a feeling; something that could only turn his gut with uneasiness. Where had his team gone... and what could have possibly happened to them?

[BLKND]

CHAPTER amethyst.
POST eight.
OOC training; storyline

The corridors were reminiscent of how he felt. Dark, lonely, and silent. His legs pushed against the pain that would course through them. His ankles were growing weaker, and stronger, then weak again. All that time strapped to the interrogation chair had left him at odds. For now, he had to focus on the mission at hand. His breath had accumulated to his chest, and the ebb and flow of his breathing had now extended to his mouth. He was tired, and that last little scuffle proved it. He shouldn't have taken that long to defeat his enemy, nor should they still be alive. However, with his team gone- there was little else for him to do. The puddles had been left behind, and he was blindly running, but honestly, what other options did he have? The sound of footsteps had been drowned out by the white noise of the building recovering from that explosion. He could only hear two things: the breath that pushed out of his lips, and the rumbling of the building, its screams proving its agony. He would have to take a break soon, and tend to whatever wounds he might have re-opened with his action.

His foot steps would slow, and eventually he would find himself with his back pressed against the concrete corridor. His head hitting the wall, he would slowly slide to the floor, the pain of his ribs having grown to the point of excruciating.

"It looks like you could use a hand." A voice would say, a soft echo relaying the comment constantly in his ear.

Turning his head quickly to his left, his hand would clasp together in preparation; only for his sight to confirm his opposition. The massive metal helmets of his team revealing itself upon further investigation. While preventing him from seeing who it was that was facing him clearly, it was the voice, combined with the figure of the suit that would reveal the woman behind the mask. It was Kala, one of the few women in his squadron; and one of the few that he knew he could depend on. Reaching her hand to her neck, she would press a slightly hidden button, the helmet gassing slightly before opening to reveal her face. She was pretty, especially without the makeup that she would place on occasionally. It was mostly during debriefings that one would notice it. It's just that those came so scarcely. Her short, blonde hair was barely long enough to fit into a low ponytail, but it was enough. Her smile was priceless, but it was still there, even in a situation like this.

"What happened, where is everyone else?" He would ask, throwing procedure to the wind. He was eager, and injured; hardly the right state of mind to ask her a silly coded question.

Neverthelss, she would answer him.

"There has been a slight- change of plans..." She would state bluntly; her mood changing in an almost polar direction.

[BLKND]

▼ NAME; amethyst
▼ POST; nine

Deadened with an anticipatory struggle, he would be eager to get a grip on the reality of this situation. The sheer magnitude of her story had begun to make him uneasy, but it was only until she presented proof that he had begun to recollect himself. The tight grip of her hand tugging against his wrist, while his limp legs would shuffle through the shallow puddle that he had conjured out of thin air. From what he could recall, she had told him that the team which had come to rescue him, and succeeded, was now struggling to make their own escape. Having been separated somehow, she was currently assuming that there has been a powerful technique placed over this hideout, making it difficult for them to locate each other. For now, with details spared, she led him to a place that she had found a small refuge for the time being. She had managed to incapacitate a few of their opposition, and stash them away while she stripped them of their uniforms. A generic disguise, yes, but it was more than enough to get them through soft security checkpoints, which had been essentially ignored since word of Ibara's escape had spread. Men were sure to be tracking them, and it would only be a matter of time before they would be cast back in to combat once more.

She had managed to avoid major injury, a few scrapes and scratches were visible as he scanned her face, her massive brown eyes unwavering. It was odd however, having only Kala present. His team were known experts; having been trained a ridiculous amount of times on various procedures that would lead them to safety and ensure that the entire time would eventually follow. He knew what to do in this situation, as did she, as well as the other men and women that he considered comrades, and yet with each frantic step in an unknown direction, the vulnerability of these scenarios would expose themselves. Many of the protocol steps had been ignored up to this point, leaving Ibara with little more than a slight briefing, which was also not followed to protocol, affecting his next, trained step. It was a system of dependency, which of course would not be an issue if followed properly. Instead, he was hand in hand with a woman whom he had known only through business. His ribs ached, and he limped heavily with each step, attempting to both gain breath as well as elude pain as he stayed close to her heels.

Eventually they would find the sanctuary, Kala shoving her shoulder through the door, and pressing her back to it's frame as her comrade would plop down inside of the small, dark room in which she had led them. Slamming the door shut behind them, she would turn to him with an eerie smile, out of breath and obviously excited. While taking a short second to finally see her, Ibara would turn and eye her up and down. Her skin tight suit exposing what little curves she had left. The constant training regiment left her with mostly muscle, and something to be desired when standing next to a civilian woman, who still had more 'normality' in her tone than this soldier. Yet as she crawled towards him, cat like, her femininity seemed to be enhanced tenfold. Tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, the refugees of her sloppy ponytail, she would draw close to him, taking his wrist into her grasp.

"Your heart rate is slowing. Are you feeling woozy at all?" She would ask inquisitively, her head rocking shamefully as she examined his visible wounds.

It was the pain really, that was all he could think about. His lack of medicine, his lack of relief kept him from speaking much. She could tell. They all could really, that he was an addict. It wasn't the clear signs of addiction that would worry them, but instead the fact that without it, he was so completely different: untrustworthy. For that reason, as Kala reached into one of her pockets, removing a small orange bottle with a white top, she would not hesitate in handing it to him. They all kept it with them for most of their missions, worried that if he ever lost is fix, their lives would be placed in jeopardy.

[BLKND]

▼ NAME; amethyst
▼ POST; ten

"Enjoy," She would spout, a bit of judgment oozing out of her words. Brushing her hair back once more, she would crawl closer towards him, her arm extended as he would snatch it away from her, his eyes proving how deep seeded his emotions had become. "You're going to need it if we're going to stay alive." Kala finished, reclining back into her seated position, where she would cross her legs and stare at him take down two pills without so much a drop of water.

He had been practicing. As he pocketed the pills, he would glance at her for a response, only to find that she had none. Organizing himself to look a bit more presentable, attempting to sit in the same position as her without injuring himself further. A glimmer of hope could be seen in her eye as he would begin to feel the buzz of the drugs, his face growing much less pathetic as the moments would go on. Dull and unnerved is what it had become, and with a substantial amount of things to do, it was only appropriate that they both had become more focused. The blood which had scabbed over her neck, gave her a bit more of an authoritative tone as they would speak about what it was that their next step was, and how it was that they were so horribly separated from the team.

"It was almost as if something had taken them over. None of us saw anything coming, but before we knew it, we had lost control of ourselves,"Her had would raise to her face, recounting something atrocious that she must have done, but too uneasy to relay it. "I don't know what it is that could have done this to us, but whatever it was- whoever it was; was very powerful."

"How did you all fall behind so much? We had decided procedure phi," Ibara would accuse more than ask when he was confused like this. Logistic issues never seemed to please him. "If anything like this had the possibility of happening, then we should have proceeded with procedure epsilon." He would finish sternly, awaiting a response from her almost as soon as his first word was uttered.

"You don't need to tell me appropriate protocol. I know that procedure epsilon would have been a more viable option given the lack of recon, but I'm not the captain of this team, and neither are you," She would snap back at him, her eyes neither fierce nor ferocious. "The fact of the matter is, this technique prevented us from covering you, and now that at least one of us has recovered, I think we should head to the rendezvous point and await word from the others."

Less than thrilled with her suggestion, Ibara would look at her for a few seconds. Her hair was tussled, and her body clean. She had been in a scuffle, but only one or two of her competitors were capable of getting any sort of hand on her, and even then, they were far from substantial. Her wounds were surface-space and she seemed to have a lot more energy than she should if having lost control of one's body for a period of time, and then attempting to track him.

[♚ aurora]

100 EXP @ Obs

[BLKND]

▼ NAME; amethyst
▼ POST; eleven

"You're lying." He would say almost as if saying something obvious, giving the answer to a question that no one was particularly asking.

It would take her an moment or to two stop staring at him, her expression being as though she had just heard something that she wasn't supposed to. Her smile would return, and before long her hand was covering her forehead as though she had heard something too funny to muster a laugh. As her head would begin to jerk, and her hair would begin to fall from it's perfect position into somewhat of a mess. One could tell that she was laughing, and yet nothing was all to audible. The onset of countless years of silence- surely. However, as she would raise her head to take a look at him once more, her face would show no clear sign of amusement. Instead, it showed a hint of sympathy.

"I'm lying- and you're high," She would retort, switching his words to make him appear as though out of control; unclear of what he was saying himself. "What reason would I have to lie to you?" She would finish, as if attempting to bring him back his senses. It was an interesting method, making him question whether or not he had somehow distorted himself with the consumption of the pills he had taken no more than a few minutes ago.

His eyes would only grow more keen however, his face remaining unchanged, and unmoved by her psychoanalysis. Instead, with new found strength, he would raise to his feet, staggering a bit as he did so in an attempt to catch his still bruised body. She would follow suit, raising her hands as if he was already falling. He would wave her off lazily however, reacting almost as if there had been no growing tension. His one good hand would reach to his head, sweeping away the hair that had fallen in front of his face as he rose.

"I actually expected this mission to be a bit more difficult- but it's obvious that your skills have waned in these passed few years," He would start, bending back over to grasp the knife which he had left on the ground. "You asked me what reason would you have to lie to me; I think we both know how simple of an answer that is: So that you can continue to betray this organization, this village, and this nation," The words spilled from his mouth like poison, cutting into her veins as her eyes would begin to narrow, almost as if she had been accused of something that was too ridiculous to listen. Her mouth would begin to open in objection, but he wouldn't hesitate to cut her off. "Before you explain how wrong I am- let me explain something: Two months ago there was an initiative created by the village higher-ups. Highly confidential, as you well know, because you were present for the briefing. The initiative was to destruct the circuit of what we knew to be thieves whom had infiltrated the village. Posing as ninja, villagers, traders and visitors they had a fairly profitable turnaround, even within the few months that the village was aware of their presence," She had grown silent as she listened to him, his clearly battered and intoxicated body being complimentary to the intricate story which she had yet to admit to being aware of. "However, only a select few of us were aware that this 'den of thieves' was actually much different than what brass was aware of. A mission was given to find this den, which happened to be a success. While I was not present for this mission, I was present for the debriefing. Two members of our organization were spotted to be present within this den, and were later reported to be undercover, working to take down this den and its leader. Ironically... this very base is the den in question. You are the agent undercover, and the man whom you had been assigned to accompany on this mission has been missing for ten days."

[BLKND]

▼ NAME; amethyst
▼ POST; twelve

As his story had unfolded, she too had raised to her feet, sloppily, and lazy. Her eyes were faded, and her expression had grown from amused, to tired- almost sad even. While barely visible, she too held a knife in her hand, taking no precaution to conceal it whatsoever. "So what's your point, Ibara?" She would ask simply, a tint of melancholy in her voice as she awaited his reply.

"You've gone rogue. The man that you've been assigned to accompany, a man code named Obinomaru has also gone rogue, however is no longer present in this scenario. Our extraction team has been given alternate coordinates for my extraction, and the members of this 'fake' extraction team are nothing more than members of his cell that have been given basic commands to make me believe that I was within safe hands. One reason that I have yet to kill you- was that it was clear that your motives were to ensure my safety so that I might join you in your plans of an obvious coup of the village," He was thrown off by a slight laughter, this time clearly audible, however would continue with his analysis. "Which was really only made clear by the death of a third spy which had infiltrated this organization, who you were not hesitant to kill."

For every second that he looked in to her eyes, the more that he could see her resemblance to a snake- no, a dragon. Her eyes had grown wide with ferocity, and yet her face was stone. This was the face that he had never wished to see from this angle. He was present for its use very few times, though he was sure it was constantly hidden behind the many masks that his team had used throughout the years. "Interesting story. Though I'm afraid I have no idea who you're referring to."

"Don't play dumb, Kala, the third agent which was pinned against the wall. You were quite sloppy to use him as a prop for infiltration..." The room would seem to ring with that last word. There was no doubt that he was being heard by more than just two sets of ears, and what was even more clear, was that this woman, for whom he had known for years was eager to right whatever wrongs she had done in the eyes of her comrade. It was pure irony however, that within the next few moments- the true infiltration would commence.

[BLKND]

▼ NAME; amethyst
▼ POST; thirteen

While neither of them were quite clear whether or not it was the sudden vibration, or the itching need to commence this long overdue battle; these two team mates would soon find themselves locked in a combat that seemed to be far more valuable than their friendship had ever been. Unchanged expressions would do nothing but slam tucked fists at one another. A massive cleaving knife would batter against a short bowie knife, with little poise or technique, but simply distraction- that they were both aware of. Tucking herself into a defensive position, the handle of her blade would be covered by all ten of her thin, long fingers. Blocking his blade one last time, she would find herself losing all remaining patience, and doing what she could to end this nonsense of an initial battle. As his blade would come down on hers once more, is it would retreat she would easily catch the wrist which held it with the ball of her palm, knocking the blade quickly from it's grasp, and falling loudly to the floor. As her knife would outstretch towards his exposed throat, he too however would catch her with a similar technique. Wrapping his hand around her own wrist, he would quickly thrust it down, smashing his shoulder into his own as he would thrust her weight down upon his. Almost voluntarily, her hand would release the blade, the tip driving into the ground as she would struggle to maintain balance. This would prove short lived however as he would take quick movement to continue his maneuver. Raising his right hand to her face, his right leg would follow suit and take a massive step to reach behind her own right leg, blocking any retreat that might assist her in catching balance. However, as he would begin to press against her weight, she would find a quick counter. Her hand rapidly redirecting his own, she would thrust his grip from her face, to his own chest, giving her knee the perfect opening to careen into the very ribcage that had been broken by her subordinates.

The pain was crippling, and as it would circulate throughout his body, he would find himself falling swiftly to his knees. His mouth would reveal the gritting teeth which would push against each other in an attempt to evade the pain which pressed against his cranium. However, as she would follow up with an additional blow to his temple, he would take quick utilization of his positioning. Cutting below her underarm, he would twist her wrist into a position that would force her to be flipped directly onto her back; her legs flying into the air as she would twirl, head first onto the ground. It would hardly make a difference however, her leg quickly stretching back in an attempt to kick Ibara, only to have him take a few steps back to prevent such a thing from happening. Quickly following her other leg, both of her legs would hover above her head before thrusting herself into the air and landing carefully on both feet before flipping in front of her; just in time for there to be another powerful explosion surrounding them.

"I must admit, I had a strong suspicion you would figure things out before I revealed them to you- you've always been one to question things a bit too much." She would say cheerfully, turning around to face him; taking a fighting stance that would mirror his in appearance. Her right fist tucked underneath her chin, and her left outstretched over her bent left leg. Her straight blonde hair had been tussled further after their short encounter, however the ferocity in her eyes was almost romantic.

[BLKND]

▼ NAME; amethyst
▼ POST; fourteen

Both of their bodies would rock underneath the pressure of whatever battle was occurring around them. While she would catch herself a bit more gracefully than he, it was clear that whatever was causing these vibrations had no mercy for either of them. He was at a clear disadvantage. His ribs were more than likely broken by now, and his medicine was doing little to cushion the pain. It was affecting his reaction time, and it was clear. Normally he would have been able to deflect or avoid her knee, but not today. In fact, it had gotten so bad that it was hardly clear if he would be able to stand for much longer. He listened to her, unclear of what to think of her words. Her hair would begin to almost flow in the force of these tremors, and it made her look beautiful. It was troubling to imagine her in the way that she once was to him. The only agent in this organization which held such life.

"You're job is to follow orders. Not to 'have a little fun.'" He could remember himself saying to her during their first expedition together. She had managed to take care of a number of undercover ninja which had placed themselves strategically throughout a small village in Kaminari no Kuni. The final act of their violence had ended in a small hut which was primarily used for slaughter, ironically. The human blood which had paved the walls looked striking similar to the blood of the pigs whose life had ended here as well. The curve of her kris would drive forcefully through the neck of her enemy, and as she thrust his body into a small clump of hay, she would throw a flip him over playfully; likened to a cat playing with its food. He called her out on it, to which she would innocently reply: "I've been forced to kill people my entire life- the least I could do is have a little fun while I do it."

He should have known back then that she was unstable.

Their battle hadn't ended, and as they stood in their stale mate, both starting to tire of looking so ferocious, it would be Yonaka who would take the first move. Thrusting himself into the back corner, moving passed a through standing racks, he would essentially create a small tunnel that she would inevitably have to pass through in order to reach him. Her eyes would narrow as she would view him beginning to formulate hand seals. She would not hesitate to do the same, launching herself to the side to avoid any damage that his tunnel would create. Pressing herself against one of the racks, whatever containers were present would hide her location effectively. However, once his hand seals were finished, she had just barely enough time to make an effective move. Turning his head towards the direction that she had retreated, his mouth would billow, and within an instant, a powerful stream of water would emit from it. Instantly demolishing the racks which stood to protect her, they would lift from the ground, and come careening towards her at an insurmountable speed. Within an instant the final rack in which she had hidden behind was now pressed against the wall, the floor now soaking with the aftermath of the attack.