white night. [m]

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

The calm of the setting sun had always been a very convenient and giving mistress. Her eyes, made of a torched sky, spanning across the mountains of the lightning nation. Her lips, jagged and torn to create a visage of pure atrophy that men could not help but fixate upon. Made of the mountain tops that would comprise this entire country, her kiss was known across the land. Finally, her hair, oh her hair; beautiful lox, the clouds would create. Red, and bleeding, the tainted color of her eyes streaming long and far against the never ending blue that would slowly turn into the colors we've known as autumnal. Of course, with the sin of her beauty would come consequence. A laughter would erupt from the bellowing valleys of these mountains. Spouting from the belly of men drunk on the dazed notion that they are truly free, these laughs would reach the ears of the destitute. The small crowd would gather together to share in each other's glory. Sure, many comrades had been lost along the way, but to them, it was just a better way to split up the profits. The crimes of these men would know no ends; the list of victims having become endless. As they would mock the dead, and those who mourned them in their glee, an eruption of emotion would tear through the sky to drown them out. With a mighty roar of vigor and lust the crowd of men and women would call for their blood. Fists thrusting into the air they had come to see their finest offspring crush those that had done them so wrong. The families, friends and lovers of those whom had perished at the hands of these men had all come, present to see what could truly be done about the virus that they were. Of course, while they were men themselves, prepared in a great way of what their actions would permit, they could not help but laugh at the attempt at verbal battery. Smiles would silence any true pain that they could feel in their hearts. Yells would flush away any remorse that they might have felt. These men were satisfied in their positions. They did not care to apologize, nor did anyone expect them to. However what was expected was for the earth beneath them to soon match the sky that would hang lazily above them: as red as the devils eyes.

"You will know justice!" One woman would scream, unashamed of her barbarism.

"I've waited six months for this day!" Another young man would shout, his hands cuffing his mouth as he would passionately howl.

As the air would grow thick with the warm of hatred, the massive, guarded arena would begin to grown cold with the anticipation of what would law just around the corner. This crowd was not here to spectate these men laugh, mock and bellow the dead. However, it would only be a matter of time before their goals would come into fruition.

p o s t . o n e

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

An awful silence would develop across the vast numbers of filled seats. The cushion of curiosity would envelope them, and their tongues, dripping from the tease of a taste that would be blood. While originally subtle, two massive doors would slowly creak open to reveal nothing but an anticlimactic collection of shadows that would mute any suspicion that a man stood behind the fortress doors. With the light as dim as it was, the shadows would stretch from each individual as if to reveal each of their thin, black souls. An army of old, brown eyes would stare into the abyss as the criminals would wait for their opposition. Each gripping their respective weapons as if there was a the slightest suspicion of fear. Of course, they would never admit to it. But these men, all dressed in normal attire ranging from kimono and sandals, to t shirts and shorts, knew that their demeanor was fall from calm. However, there was one among them who could honestly depict his emotions, and fear had nothing to do with it. A long black coat would float to the back of his knees as his bare hands would rest tightly against the tips of two katana at his waist. His eyebrows, black and bushy would stare intently at the shadows, taking a few steps forward as a method to comfort his men from what it was that would soon release itself from the mysterious threshold. The silence of the arena was ghastly to say the least, but it would appear to almost intensify as the looming darkness would quickly vanish. While the darkness would remain, anyone capable of seeing would no longer pay much attention to it. While the ominous darkness would remain, it would be two slits, glowing gold in the abyss as if a beast watching its prey. Behind these shadows, an untold terror would house itself, two eyes staring directly at the man whom had once considered himself untainted by fear. His lips, chapped and dry would slowly muster a squinted frown, his brow burying into his eyes, quickly followed by his mangled, dark hair. Staring into the eyes of what they could only assume was a demon, their next step would be one driven by both precaution and horror. However, their emotion was empathized by the crowd. Was this really going to be a man? Or had the Raikage decided to try something a bit more... horrific?

"Kagimaru, Buu. Shoot whatever the hell that thing is before it gets any closer." The leader would spout out, his arm flailing towards his subordinates and then back towards the shadowed enemy.

p o s t . t w o

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

Two men within the large squadron would raise their only weapons to their shoulders. One, holding a massive white crossbow, would place the aim of his weapon underneath his eye, as he would attempt to correct his aim. Shifting his fingers, his opposite hand would stroke the wooden butt of the weapon as his ally would mirror his movements with a considerably skinnier crossbow. However, their bolts were both cocked, and ready to fire into the darkness, directly between the shining golden eyes staring at them from the depths of hades itself. It would take a few seconds for the men to adjust their aims perfectly, the damp, stone ground beneath them being a bit blinding with the escaping twilight surrounding them. This delay would not alter much however, with both of their fingers jumping to the triggers of the weapons, sending them coursing through the cool mountain air in what appeared to be within an instant. There would be no way for them to determine if their attacks were aimed correctly or not. If using the eyes to gauge the effectiveness of their attack however, they would find a very definitive answer. An answer that might not stack up to what it is that they were hoping. The eyes would continue to stare, and while they looked onward, a short stack of surprises would begin to emerge. A single foot at first, covered by a thick tie of bandages that would pad the bare feet of the young man as he would circulate them to bring him further from the shadows. Of course, immediately following these feet would be two very, malicious eyes. Pure black, as thin yellow beams would stream from the top to the bottom, never losing track of the beating heart of these men. For as they would stare, they could see something inhuman. The unnerving eyes would accompany a cold, bandaged face; void of any emotion. The grins that once stood steadily on their faces would be reduced to ash, and in their place would be the horrifying masks of reality. They stood no chance against the devil himself, and as it stood right now, it would be the devil that would be their opponent.

p o s t . t h r e e

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

"Who the hell is that?" One of the many members of the crowd would blurt out to the crowd, as if surfing for some sort of sarcastic answer.

Of course, his intentions were far from sarcastic. As his lips would press against each other in a meaningless delight, his chin would tuck into the course of the air as he would please himself with a resourceful glint of humor. Of course, no one would be capable of answering him, and no one would be capable in indulging themselves in his seditious outburst. A begging plea would break out from one of the men in the arena as he would thrust his spear into the air, aimed to course Kurai's exposed flesh. He was prepared to act against him in a violent way, and it was evident. He had been promised freedom by the men who had placed him here. While he was unsure of his abilities against a ninja, he was sure of his devotion to freedom. He was sure of his devotion to his brothers in arms. He was sure of his ability to make a situation like this positive. Currently, his pros outweighed his cons, and he would be able to make good of this skirmish. If no one else would survive this encounter, it would be him. As the sun would finally lose it's peak, hiding behind the stark mountaintops of this village, the nightfall would immerse the men in what would appear to be a never-ending darkness. Within an instant they would be immersed into pitch black. No lighting, nor comfort would support them. They would be reduced to the mystery of what could happen in the next moments, and if they would survive them or not. Of course, within that instant, it would take another for the lights of the arena to flicker on, and for these men to realize just who it was that they had been doomed to meet on the battlefield.

The gripped spear in this man's hand would find itself crushing the stone beneath them all in a fit of fear. Long black hair would fall gracefully to the earth as well as he could feel his life slipping from his skin. The loose clothing that was accustomed to this land would invite a chill breeze that would linger in his nerves. His fingertips would continue to grow colder, despite their sudden interest in his stomach, and the warmth of the blood that he would attempt to trap within his abdomen. Pale brown eyes would begin to grow paler as he would stare into the, almost translucent, eyes of his soon-to-be killer. He was a bit taller than the spear man, but as he looked up, it was clear that his attention would soon depart the young man, and instead focus on the thereafter. His eyes could no longer see the present, but instead the future that he would soon be forced to face. His knees falling to the earth would support his minuscule weight temporarily, before his body would fall quickly against the same stone in which his spear rested, as well as the dark kunai which had been used to impale the young man.

p o s t . f o u r

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

The silence of the crowd would continue; aggravated by the sudden incident which would leave them all speechless. They were no strangers to the abilities of ninja, after all they were all either related or acquainted with one living in this town. Of course, they had yet to see something done by someone so... monstrous. His height was above average, and his weight was a bit below, but there was something about him that just didn't appear to bode well with them. They could not cheer, though one of their sworn enemies had fallen to his grave, slowly losing more and more of his life by the second. They could not praise him, for they knew that he was the child of burden, that had been born from the womb of the mountains. He was not human, and they could not appreciate that. As they would continue to look around at each other, they could see that this was not going to be just another arena match, but instead this was going to be a massacre, and one that they could not bare to watch.

As his eyes would float from the gaze of one, to the gaze of many, Kurai could see the settling horror that would remain on the faces of those whom knew the man. No screams. No yelps. He was faced with the fortunate appreciation of himself, and the knowledge that he would soon be the last one standing in this melee. The remaining squadron would slowly begin to back away, prepping their weapons for what they knew was to be a hopeless battle; their last battle.

"Now we disappear, well, what must we think of it? From the sky we came. Now we may go back again. That's at least one point of view." The man would drag from a horrid combination of his lips and his tongue. His language was eloquent, and as fine as he had ever spoken, with the perfect addition of sentimental flare.

As his lips would dance into the rhythm of one of his many memorized poems, the slightest drip of blood would crawl from his lips and onto the many bandages that would cover his face. His eyes scanning the remaining men, would distract them from his loose fingers slowly scaling the exterior of his blade's handle. Rough, yet clean and clearly unused, he would casually engage it in an embracing grip. With his index finger coursing the base of the blade, the cleaver would begin to react against the artificial light of the arena's 'stage lights.' This was yet another tease, a method of showing these men what it was that he was going to kill them with, or rather, to hurt them with.

"I've never been in favor of the death penalty." He would announce to them, drawing out the appearance of the end of this dark weapon. "So, luckily, none of you will die today. However, I cannot promise that you will be able to walk away in one piece." He would finish as soothing as he could manage.

p o s t . f i v e

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

This would place the men in a position that was far from appealing. Their cackles had transformed into trembles, and their confidence into cowardice. It would do them no good, whatsoever, as the blade would finally reveal its form to them. As if a bare mistress thrusting herself into a newlywed, this blade would thrust itself into the eyes of these men. They did everything they could to appear unaffected, and yet they knew that this weapon was as magnetic as the warmth of a woman. The dismal color of the Chuunin's attire would remind them of the shadow in which he was birthed, as well as the darkness that would erode their spirits, all coming from him. Despite there remaining a total of eight of them against his one, they could steel feel that the odds had not allowed them a sufficient advantage. This would appear to double as this enticing blade would raise into the air. The majority of them would prepare for an attack. Having either their shields, spears, mace or swords prepared, it would do little to protect them from what it was that about to happen within the next instant.

As the blade would thrust into the air, it would find a quick home within the hand of the previously downed spear man. With no tip, the cleaver would be reduced to a laceration. However, with the force behind this blow, his laceration would find a magnificent advancement in the form of pure decapitation of the man's hand. With blood leaping into the air, the audience would join in a massive gasp, and the occasional shriek. The hand which had drawn the blade from it's scabbard would quickly begin to meet the ninja's other hand as they would cooperate in an enticing dance of hand seals that would instantly react in the form of an incredible reaction. As his garb would dance in the reaction of both his naturally created chakra, as well as the static originated from the technique chosen, these eight men could see that their opponent was more than a malicious man, but instead a man of evil ability.

"Denkou... Kyouzou." He would almost whisper as his hand seals would complete, the final seal sitting silently underneath his chin.

p o s t . s i x

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

A magnificent light would dance through the air as an incredible torrent of powerful lightning and thunder would crackle and stomp around Kurai's thin frame. Composed of pure black and white, the light would waltz brilliantly around the monotone ninja, before galloping outward in a graceful twist and turn. Within the blink of an eye, it had reached the small squadron, and their leader, crushing the few that were unfortunate enough to be within the range of the cruel technique. The light, composed in the form of magnificent pillars would step down onto these flies of men, this legion of insects that did little to deserve the attention of their opponent. The attack would floor five of them, leaving the three furthest from him to remain standing in complete and utter awe. However, while all eight men would continue standing, it would take mere seconds for their bodies to fall quickly and pathetically to the stone beneath them. As the light would fade, and their eyes could be seen to have the life taken from them, their bodies continuing to surge with the power of his chakra, Kurai's own eyes would continue to shine in a completely different light. His malicious stare at the leader would show that this attack was the one of many, that would draw out the suffering of these poor men. His hands quickly continuing to dance together, would this time however form a completely different sequence of seals, revealing that he knew a bit more than the average enemy that these men had so disgracefully slain. As one crossbowman and one swordsman would remain standing next to their leader, all three knew that if this new reaction was anything like the last: they couldn't let it happen. Within an instant, the three of them would split up; leaping as far away as possible in an attempt to find a way out of this man's range, for fear that they end up just like their comrades, laid solidly on the stone surface of this arena floor. However, the reaction was not the same. In fact, it was completely different. Instead of a brilliant array of lights and sounds, this time there would be a lack of both. There would be no tell, and there would be no harm done to anyone, despite the sudden cease of hand movements.

"Now as I was saying..." He would state peacefully, taking a few steps before shadowing one of the dazed men, slowly attempting to regain their consciousness, and hovering over him casually.

p o s t . s e v e n

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

An equally casual left foot would raise slightly above the fallen man's head before resting easily atop it, forcing his skull back into the stone with subtle force. It would only be after his foot would raise into the air, and brought back onto the side of the man's head that it would become obvious that his force had changed significantly. Blood would instantly splatter all around the stone in which the man's head rested. His body would fall limp. Any sign of life that had once been there to prove that life was still existent would vanish. The sword in his hand would fall to the earth, and the weight of his shield would rest on his body, visible weighing his body down even further. The lack of emotion after the clearly heard 'crack' would send the crowd into a frenzy of fear that the men on the floor with this monster had felt since his entrance into the arena. Families would begin to shuffle out of their seats, cutting passed those with enough courage to stick it out, and tell their friends sometime later. Women would cover their eyes, and men would hold their lips to prevent any nausea from becoming something a bit more severe.

Removing his foot from what could have been a carcass, Kurai's foot would reach solid ground once more. His pace had decreased tremendously, and while it would appear to be the fact that he had taken a casual stance, it would instead be due to the new composition of his body. The rest of the men would continue to pretend their defeat, staying earth-bound for fear of having the same fate as their comrade. However, the three men which would remain could only do their best to prevent the same possibility from occurring. The crossbowman, being the closest, would quickly attempt to re-arm himself with another bolt. Thrusting his hand into the small sling at his side, he would begin to fumble through the casing in an attempt to find the closest steel bolt that he had. Of course, by the time that his fingers would hit the cold, and assuring metal that composed the bolt, he could feel a sharp sensation in his chest. The crushing weight would begin to course through his body. Starting in his sternum, it would quickly begin to invade his lungs, and then stomach. The sound of crushing bone would ring into his ears, followed by the blinding pain that would reduce his vision to blackness. His feet would raise from the earth as Kurai's closed fist would smash gravely into the torso of the man's thorax. However, the blow was far from normal, the simple movement hiding the incredible power behind it. The flimsy body of the crossbowman would become evident as it would soar through the air in a charismatic demise, lasting for seconds before landing brutally against the ground, and sliding nearly to the opposite side of the arena.

The swordsman would allow the defeat of his comrade to appear more as an invitation than a denial. Viewing the punch as an opportunity to attack, the man would rush into the range of his blade, holding it high above his head as his shield would raise to his torso in an attempt to stop the same blow from affecting him. However as the blade would come down onto Kurai's shoulder, quickly bouncing back in a show of it's inadequacy, it would be the sudden surge of lightning that would shoot sharply into the forehead of the unarmored man that would quickly surprise him. His body falling limp would hit the ground in an instant, leaving one man left to combat the young man.

p o s t . e i g h t

[BLKND]

y a m a n a k a . k u r a i

Slowly starting to make space between the two of them, the leader of the squadrons would begin to show his true colors. Having unsheathed his swords the fear in his eyes had become evident. His mouth, open wide would suffer the same shock that his comrades had received, however, in a much less realistic manner. He couldn't see anything other than what it was that could happen to him. He couldn't see the blood running from his enemy's mouth, or from his subordinate's stomach, or head. He could only see his own blood, the blood of his body replacing it all. He could only see himself splattered against the arena walls, with people growing sick from the sight of his composure. He didn't want that, and yet that was the only thing that he could envision: blood. It was the only thing that he could imagine, and there were no differences. His blood was the same as those whom he had murdered. The crime lords he had killed to get to where he was. He was in in fact so obsessed with this blood, that he had to do something about it. He had to make sure that his blood was going to stay within his body, and that despite the towering odds which opposed him, he would be sure to go on another day. If this man were as cruel as he was showing the crowd, he would have to be just as cruel; play ball just as hard.

"Yo- you think that kind of shit scares me?" He would begin, thrusting one of his two katana in the direction of the shadowy shinobi. "I was raised on the death of my comrades... and I don't take threats like that very kindly. You've sealed your fate you bastard!" He would exclaim as his body would lunge itself in Kurai's direction, his blades at the ready, and his teeth bare.

However, as the steps of the man would draw him ever closer to his enigmatic enemy, there would be a bit of melodrama as the next short movement of that same enigma would trounce any speech that the man had given to 'pump up' his chances at victory. A twinkle of glee would escape the cold, cruel eyes of the Yamanaka as his hand free itself of a small array of seals, finishing them by the exact moment that the leader of the small gang would reach him. His hand rising to the occasion would adjust itself in a method as to leap over the impending slice that would be delivered to his torso. Instead, his body contorting into a mangled image would flip through the air, and land directly behind the overzealous lunge of the final opponent. His body leaning far further than need be, he would realize only afterwards that his attempts would end in failure. And as the crushing stomp of Kurai's foot would smash into his achilles tendon, the rest of the crowd would come to understand as well. His screams,echoing from ear to ear would show these men and women that were brave enough to stick around just how brutal their 'hero' was. As his teeth would hide behind the array of bandages covering his face, a sick smile would reveal itself in full flurry. Kurai's right hand would cruise into the back of the man's neck with a flat hand, his head bending backwards in a sickening way. His eyes fading, and his body falling still, he would quickly land against the stone with the rest of his partners. The crowd would remain silent.

SPOILER: Click to show

name; chief of battle
rank; b
description; Good news and bad news, the good news is we recently captured 2 squads of non ninja mercenaries as well as their leader, the bad news is your fighting them right now. I hope your prepared for battle as they’ve come to fight. The commander is an expert of dual swords, under his command are two squads each containing 1 spearman, 1 crossbowman, 1 armored mace shock trooper and 1 shield and sword wielding soldier.
reward; 100 experience, 2,500 ryo
minimum shinobi; one
mission status; interminable

p o s t . n i n e

[Shinryu]

+61