The blades of vengeances have fallen swiftly. The shinobi are no more as 'Absolute Justice' has returned...now, it is the Samurai that rule the Five Major Nations!
But at what cost? Have they become the very thing that they despised the most...? Heroes and villains seem to change roles every day, but one thing is for certain - we yearn for our freedom, for days gone by where we flew the skies unhindered.
Having thoroughly reaped havoc along the wall’s length, the brilliantly white dragon doubled back towards the initial point, swerving clearly back into view while maintaining its commanding altitude. From the looks of it, the First was in the middle of a monologue directed at the supposed heretics that had gathered down below. Rather than letting loose another roar, he’d restrain the beast beneath his feet, forcing it to hold position far above the wall's original heights for the sole sake of providing supplemental intimidation.
Glancing back once rather cautiously while maintaining a safe distance from the ground, he’d spot that woman standing at the squad commander’s side. With a bit of dissatisfaction, he'd mumble something quietly to himself while acknowledging her presence. “Shit. About time her bitch ass got here.”
Not allowing himself to be distracted for long, his gaze reverted back to the Mist nin below. A thorough head count was taken as he'd curiously speculate what their response might be.
Last Edit: Aug 22, 2015 18:41:57 GMT -8 by Hecatus
Black and white; good or bad; real or fake—there was a fine line that separated these words. But what of pride and hubris? At what point did one’s pride become detrimental to their well-being, to their future? There was no doubt that the shinobi of Kirigakure outnumbered the enemies at their door, but would that be enough? These ninja had erased the Mizukage (cultist or not) and her most trusted subordinate without effort, and toppled the impossibly-tall walls of Kirigakure without breaking a sweat.
What hope did a handful of genin and eccentric Jounin stand?
What would Father think? The young kunoichi didn’t moved after the Hokage finished his offer, punctuating it with the promise of further death and destruction. How could I possibly carry the mantle of Akira after surrendering without shedding so much as a single drop of blood? Her hands shook as they curled into fists. It was a nearly impossible decision, but only one of the options allowed her the chance of vengeance; to regain both her honor and that of the Hidden Mist.
Still, no one spoke.
Hana pressed forward, leaping across several more roofs before she landed on the rubble-filled streets. She could see the Hokage just as he could see her.
“The Mizukage and her reckless cult brought this misfortune upon us,” she spoke boldly, her voice a crisp note among the roar of flames. “I can assure you there are no shinobi here that have any love for her or those fanatics. That is their symbol,” the girl said while pointing to a smoldering sign, the church’s insignia still visible though darkened with soot. “If your intentions are truly as you say, then you will be doing the Mist a great service in purging the church and its many acolytes from our presence.”
Sometimes, a coward lives to fight another day…
“I, Hanafubuki Kushinada of the Hidden Mist, humbly accept your offer,” she said, unable to hide the shame in her voice. “Hokage-sama.”
A voice erupted. Above their heads, down towards their stomachs, bristling with pomp and dishonesty. A man with wings hovered, made a fluttering like parchment in the ugly cinder swollen wind. Naitome listened to what was offered, but understood less (or more) than the others. Something about cysts or places that were sick or corruption. He would follow the Genin girl as she walked to stand in the street before their oppressor, like a guardian, coming to a halt a few feet away from her.
"Do your tiny thinking nabobs whisper that living under the flying fairy's thumb is better than dying? Is it warm, under the nail, under the whip? Are all you bone-folk so squishy-squishy?"
He asked of her, nearly spat at the girl, and her sword, and her mewling. He twisted his neck upwards, watched the man, raised his pitch so that all could hear.
"I, Naitome Tenzo, Jounin of Kirigakure, will speak for the cowering flotsam drifting this wreck. With my tongue. This."
He said loudly, pointing at his tongue, recognizing only the pressure of the moment's potential for death. Elated.
"...and I do not humbly accept anything, you tree-hugging bird rapist. I say, we all die right here, right now! But..."
He pointed at his rear end.
"..we owe you. All our holes were spared the Church, the evil godling brood, the mane and the puff of tail swishing us into service. For that, we are indebted to the Leaf. We will play whore to your prodding bookmark. We will be allies, we will acquiesce to your bylaws and far-laws. And as for the rest of you teeth-surfing mice-mice-mice..."
In a tone only loud enough for those closest to him to hear clearly, Naitome quietly addressed the assembled Kirigakure shinobi, slightly slack-jawed, sing-song and somber at once. To the flying man, it would no doubt sound as if he were mumbling nonsensically to himself, volume lost in the everywhere-cacophony of ruin.
"Heavens demand of the fallen lot, to force, the Mist will yield. And seven will stand when the wall cannot, the swords of Mist revealed."
He listened for the roaring, shed a tear for its absence. In the monstrous predatory maw of the fireshadow's bargain, Naitome would stare, or wink, or furiously chew his collar. He locked the flying man's face into his memory.
He would hug him! The flying man killed the church people after all, and that was a nice thing. But, the flying man was also a tree-hugger; Naitome checked to see if he himself was a tree.
But the flying man wasn't a tree, so he-
He checked to see if the flying man was a tree.
Why is everyone a tree?
He suddenly understood why the tree-huggers found it so easy. He-
Not hug, kill. One day, he would kill this man, this flying man who'd torn down their wall. Kill him dead, pierce his heart, thread him through the stitch of the all with his burning village to watch and wail. He'd--
"Where is the lion?!"
He asked, genuinely confused, pushing a look of sadness through clenched teeth. The entire time he'd spent addressing the girl and the fireshadow was merely an exercise in assessing the threat level of every movement made around him. He itched, unmoving, unless necessary.
He awaited word of the terms of their new 'friendship'.
It was with contempt that I looked upon the rubble, the fire, and that cursed emblem. The once-sovereign land called Kirigakure had been finally reduced to dust. This was our punishment. The divine reckoning of the only true god that did exist, and had ever existed—power. I wondered, with the gate’s ruins reflected in my eyes, whether or not this was simply a more obvious expression of what had long since become of Kirigakure’s soul. A plague had swept through this land long ago. Even before my arrival. The Mist of old, the one of wondrous, deathly tales, had been long ago reduced to unspeakable taboo. The tales told now were of a different land. The pride and honor of the Bloody Mist had been defeated at the hands of the departed Mizukage long before the soundings of war, the heart of the land crushed beneath hands of false hope. It was ironic that, in a similar manner, the salvation so fervently sought after by the weak had been torn from their clutches and ripped asunder by the strong. As if to make plain their blasphemy, and make known its ascendency as the only real Truth. That eternal law, it loomed over us in clouds of ash now.
The trappings of faith have once and for all bathed our land in hellfire.
Thought would wither before the shrill laughter that escaped from the blood-stained maw of our aggressor. His tone was truly maddening. My ordinarily composed expression couldn’t help but let out a grimace. Yet underlying it was always the immovable, sickly taste of defeat. I could only stand in acquiescence as he howled down at us, his threatening offer looming over our troupe like a falling sky, deadening the hope of anything beyond forced subjugation. What being could produce such destruction? Though I spurned him, his power was unquestionable, beyond anything I'd yet seen. His eloquence made me despise him even more. I looked to the others, gauging their reactions as I considered our dilemma. I cursed our filthy, lifeless despot a thousand times as moments passed. I prayed that death would welcome with flaming scythe her weak and unworthy soul. And though I might not have wanted to admit it, I knew what the proper, unemotional course of action had to be. Of course, the ego had, since the beginning of time, forced the stubborn off cliffs that could have, with but a word in the opposite direction, been relinquished of their height. I feared some here would succumb to a similar fate. Though, with the advancement of one fearless youth, and her utterance of assent, I was relieved, and my confidence restored.
My eyes flit back and forth between the others and the suspended Hokage before I’d lower my mask, watching with curiosity as the dark-haired shinobi ran frantically after the girl. He was… unique, to say the least. I wasn’t sure if he was speaking poetically, or simply insane. His words regardless teetered on the verge of incomprehensibility; yet, they did possess a beguiling allure—the refreshing allure of novelty. Underlying a suspected madness was a certain authority that reverberated from his being, the temperament often carried by those of higher rank. I had never seen this man before—I was certain I would have remembered if I had—though that wasn’t surprising, considering the relatively short duration I’d lived in this land. After hearing his declaration addressed to the imposing figure above, I’d withdraw in thought, eventually coming to terms with what was said, agreeing that ultimately this was the only sensible course of action.
His verse would jolt me back into the present. Half-sung this time, his faint words were more mysterious than ever. I considered them as they floated toward me, bemused.
The swords of mist revealed…
I eyed the unusual and enigmatic shinobi for some time before turning my attention back to the Hokage. There was nothing for me to say, at this point. I acceded. I stood in deferment.
Post by addy-hime ♥ on Aug 26, 2015 17:16:33 GMT -8
After performing several handseals, I pulled my fan from its place slung across my back and flicked it open, injecting my chakra into the paper-thin wings. Pushing off the ground with my toes, I took the stance of a bird and glided up next to my husband, the Hokage, while he spoke to the rabble below. I wanted to see with my own eyes the destruction we had wrought, and the faces of those who would now have to join us -- or be destroyed. Strangely, it seemed that the only ones brave enough to gather were a bunch of children, and one man who spoke in tongues. I narrowed my eyes at this one, overwhelmed with disgust and distaste, not necessarily directed at his being. Rather, I wondered how the Mizukage could have let their village fall so far.
"This religion ruined your village before we made our mark," I said calmly, but clearly, certainly audible over the background noise if they chose to hear. "A Kage controlled by a false God cannot do what must be done to protect you. Hokage-sama would never allow Konohagakure to fall; we will not allow this village to fall again. Join us and be strong again." A few had already stepped forward to acquiesce, but I desired to see the majority kneel. There could be no progress if civil war broke out, there would only be continued ruin and bloodshed, and our job would be significantly more difficult as well. I looked to Asato to see what our next move would be.
My lips curled into a smile, betraying my thoughts and the sensation of ecstasy that coursed throughout my body. Few men had ever been in such a position and few would ever be in such position again. This sensation was what men in power hoarded throughout their lifetimes, the sensation that came with the power to control, govern, and subjugate. My body bowed as it hovered above the ground as if humbled, the smile never leaving my lips.
"Overlord." I interjected, before finishing my bow. "Kage is a title for one who rules over one village, so it's only natural that one takes upon a new moniker when they rule two. You shall address me as such."
My hand whipped about before it pointed down the field and into the distance behind the Mist ninja who had sworn fealty.
"There is but one thing left to do before a new era of Bloody Mist can be ushered in. Erase it. There is no ultimatum. Destroy the church and it's buildings, along with whom-ever is foolish enough to continue worshiping it's false idols."
Though I knew that it was true that none of these ninja liked the dominion of the church this first order would dictate the tone of the 'reformation'. Could they take orders? Would they take orders? Hopefully they understood the precariousness of their situation and the needlepoint of which it stood on. They no longer represented themselves, but they represented me - each an extension of of myself, a digit manipulating the world in the direction the hand moved it.
"Once it's all gone, everything will be rebuilt under a provisional government. A 'kage' will have to be elected, designated, or voted in by you mist ninja, and that individual will arbitrate for me - under my influence. A trade route will be established between Konoha and Kiri, to send necessary supplies back and forth for such rebuilding, though your treasury will have to be acquiesced to foot the bill."
I slowly floated backwards - still looking toward the village, until I reached Youka, hovering at her side for a moment before taking a moment, looking onward to the destruction of which I had wrought and the kneeling mist ninja. It wasn't often that a plan executed so flawlessly, and though it was obvious there were other issues - evident in the virulence that racked through the clearly sick individual who spoke in tongues, everything was moving according to my will. My hand reached upon her shoulder, before giving her a nod, only then giving Jack a nod as well.
"Youka - Jack, lets return for now. There is much to be done."
I'd wait until they had begun their own exit before following them.
Last Edit: Aug 27, 2015 6:30:00 GMT -8 by Comatose
last seen Jan 21, 2018 9:38:40 GMT -8 ●
We're going to need a bigger bomb to kill Asato...
Though a bit more theatrical and quieter than he’d prefer, things had unfolded relatively well as far as village interests were concerned. Despite being a bit unhappy with the abbreviated outcome, it wasn’t his place to object. That said, having been beckoned by this self-proclaimed overlord, he’d simply nod out of compliance before heading out. Hopefully this new found power wouldn’t drastically alter the workings of Konoha too greatly. Things were already less than pleasant as is.
Seeing Asato hold position in order to allow for their exit, Jack would simply veer the dragon about in the opposite direction to begin their return trip.
Overlord? It was a strange title, one that the young kunoichi would do well to avoid using. Suspecting her audiences with the new "ruler" of these lands to be incredibly few and very far between, it wouldn't be so bad. Nodding to his orders -- of which she, along with the others she was sure were happy to oblige -- she turned on her heels and started back for the Church and its primary depots.
Even though it'd taken the invasion of a bunch of foreigners to get the Mist to mobilize, Hana was quite pleased it was finally time to get rid of the cultist and their religion.
His final, hovering words culminated all that had come to pass. It was done; a moment whose consequences would be significant and far-reaching had, in an inferno of chaos, transpired before us. My gaze turned slowly to the others, the somber atmosphere enveloping the vicinity reflecting with exactitude the gravity of today’s events. Of course, however, today’s events had only just begun. The extirpation of inhabitants no longer welcome in this revived land lay like scorched cadavers ahead of us. It wasn’t long before the obscenity of their existences would finally be punished. One final act. With trouble I looked once more at the carnage. I looked with eyes of a malevolent hue, and the fire of loathing burned at my core. I wanted them to burn as well. I wanted to see them scream in agony for what they had wrought upon this land. I wanted to feel their fears directed at me. To maim and devour. The crushing of outreached hands and the stomping of unlocked teeth. It would all soon be mine.
My eyes were wide as I stepped delicately over rubble. Destruction of such magnitude, it was stark to behold. This was the entrance to Kirigakure? This looked nothing short of the entrance to hell itself, barren and broken. I wrapped my arms about myself, unable to quite suppress the shiver that ran through my body. War I understood, but to justify this? Was there no other way? Still, this was not the place for such thoughts. I had come here for a reason, and I would not be deterred by the mere sight of ruin.
"Excuse me?" I made my graceful way through the blast zone, a pale shade in silks surrounded by dead stone. My voice sounded so plaintive and small here, scarcely the entrance I had imagined. My ambitions were the same, truly. The taking of a hidden village. Would I invoke the same tragedy upon Iwagakure? I shook my head. It would not come to that. It could not come to that. The Hokage had done this on the simple grounds of disagreeing with this nation's practices, with its beliefs. It was nothing short of tyranny.
Yet it was to him I now turned, I realised. The Mist would scarcely be left to its own devices following such a sacking, and even if it were, how could it spare its strength to aid a fallen Kage on the other side of the continent? No, it may be the Mist I sought, but it was the Leaf I would have to sway.
"Anyone home?" I called, my irreverent airs returning to me as I adjusted to the scene. It would not do to seem weak or shaken, not here. I peered behind me - Matsumoto had not yet appeared. It would be some comfort to know he was still with me. Still, with or without him, I would not leave here without the aid I sought. I would prove to these people I could be quite as persuasive as the Hokage, though my weapon of choice would be rather less... Destructive.
and then he's drunk, and never even told her that he cares, so they took the registration, and the car keys and her shoes, and left her with an invitation to the blues
"Eh?" Spoke a gruff voice from behind a piece of rubble that have initially obscured one's sight.
Slowly 'Oyaji' wheeled himself out from behind the rubble stopping only when he was clear of the once great wall. Eyeing the vistor he sneered, laying his now folded arms flat upon his legs, clearly not impressed with who came by to disturb whatever he had going on. The sneer turned into a scowl before he spoke, the lines of his face accentuating every movement of his lips.
"The hell do you want? This isn't a place for people like you. Go on. Get out of here."
Upon initial inspection Oyaji would have seemed unusual just about anyone, his chest covered only by a small black tanktop and his arms filled with tatoos depicting all manner of horrible beasts. Around his neck upon a standard chain were two individual dog-tags, the first of which simply depicted the Konoha emblem with his official rank of "Jounin" in kanji on the back. The second tag held much more notable information written in Kanji which bore the seal of the Hokage, "Kage-Substitute".
Last Edit: Aug 29, 2015 11:23:40 GMT -8 by Comatose