Black and Blue, but Red All Over

Fri Feb 21, 2014 5:04 am

Fuck, he heard his mind growl when the doors of the Hospital closed shut. He was hoping to time it perfectly and walk in without having to open the damn thing himself. But now he would have to pull at the heavy glass, while both of his arms were torn and broken. The nurse inside looked at him with shock when the door opened and the low grunts he made became audible to those sitting in the lobby. While a few heads turned to look, more turned away to be sure not to watch the bloodied man limp towards the reception. His crimson shoe-prints on the floor that traced his movements lead from the door all the way to where the small waiting line for the receptionist desk began. There, the shoe-prints turned to the right, and ended where he sat now, in a plastic chair next to an elderly lady that was too engrossed in her newspaper to notice.

A nurse, likely the same one that had seen him enter, rushed over -- as if he were a dent in her perfectly sensible world -- and leaned down in front of him. His eyes didn't linger on her cleavage, but he didn't fail to notice it either. "Sir? Sir? Sir please, the Intensive Care Unit is on the eighth floor, please fol-"

"Shut up and leave me alone."

Her next expression stung with a childish discomfort, and it made him chuckle for the short bit that he could manage to laugh before the sharp stabbing pain in his ribs returned. Getting the shit beat outta' me for a fuckin' mission's all good and peachy but I say one rude word and the bitch gives me that look. The sides of his jaws clenched and the torn outline of his lips spread open to reveal his glassy white teeth, sharp like a crocodile's. "I'll wait for my turn, here, with the general physician. I'm not payin' up extra for no ICU." The face she made now was an easier one to understand. Pity.

Crossing her arms and tucking her chin closer to her neck, the nurse watched this new, profusely bleeding patron as he hunched onto his elbows and let his head droop down. It was hard to tell where the his red hair stopped and the stream of sanguine started, harder yet since the tone of his skin was dark - like the desert peoples'.

Mon Feb 24, 2014 1:57 am

Hunter was just in the area riding on the back of Slow Death, his trusty familiar and companion. He soon arrived at the Hospital and sighed as he walked inside thinking that he could perhaps brighten a few faces while he was there. He walked in with his hands in his pockets, his green hair was especially spiky today as if it was more charged than usual, and finally his three swords were tucked away inside his Haramaki like a normal Samurai would. As he walked into the hospital he bowed and smiled before asking the nurses if there was any trouble today. He was met with a bow and they answered him in kind telling him of just one peculliar case in which a man walked in bleeding and went to normal treatment instead of ICU. After hearof this Hunter sighed as he brought his hand up and shook his head.

"Always the weird ones in these hospitals. I bet you ladies would like to have a few drinks after such a demanding shift am I right?"

He would ask whimsically and with a great deal of charm he walked up to the nurses, bowed once more and as he came up he looked to see them blush. He winked before turning to the direction in which the mad was said to have gone down to for treatment.

It was not to long after when he reached the door to the patient's room. The stench of blood filled his nostrils making the air around him electrify as he had to calm himself, but instead Legion decided to pipe in for a change.

"So...off to make a few friends today are we? lets see behind the curtain, wonder where the blood is from?"

Hunter did not show any emotion as he would open the door to the patients room after knocking, waiting to hear from whats behind.

WC:318

Mon Feb 24, 2014 2:25 am

The knock clamored about like a child asking for a toy. The nurse had specifically mentioned that the General Physician could not be with Sora for another fifteen minutes and less than a minute had passed before this knock woke him from his dull absent-mindedness. He had been seated on the guest chair, and not on the patient's bed. With a labored wince, he spoke.

"It's op- ah fuck I locked it didn't I."

He had been planning to take off his vest and armor, and it was not something that he could do with the nurses around. If they were medics, then they might have seen worse, but the cute types with the light-colored dresses and fancy perfumes couldn't be trusted. One of them screams and suddenly it's a big fuckin' mess. Holding his groan back behind the walls of his clenched teeth, he finds his footing again. The world threatens to tilt, but holds its ground long enough for him to turn the knob. The lock pops unlocked a moment before the door creaks open.

Sora, known in Kumogakure now by his code-name, "the Demon", was not the kind of person you expected to see. His skin was dark, bathed by the sun of the desert, and his hair was a deep and vengeful crimson. His eyes, a conversation between gold and gray, eyed this man down. He had failed to notice the turtle outside of the window, perhaps due to the speed at which it moved, but likely due to the blood along the sides of his temples that cushioned the degree of his peripheral vision.

"Waddya' want?"

Mon Feb 24, 2014 3:34 am

Hunter watched as the door swung open. He was met face to face with a rather bloody man. It made Hunter want to snicker for a moment, but he held his fortitude as he walked in and sat on the windowsill. He ignored the man for a moment noting that the tone of his voice was quite arrogant...and his headband was...raggedy at the least. He made no effort to speak to him at first noting his armor and clothing.

"So..."

Hunter said as he nodded at the armor as if pointing.

"Who you trying to keep out big guy?"

Hunter asked as he felt like poking a bit of fun at the injured man, the injuries were bleeding a lot, even around the already crusted areas, but that was because it was a head wound after all. He would then notice the man's eyes briefly gaze out the window, Hunter noticed that Slow Death was right outside and he laughed then opened the window to let his friend stick his head in. Hunter pet his friends head as he turned back to the man.

"I have had this turtle ever since I was a kid, he is one big sonova bitch I will tell you that. But he is also the most loyal friend I have to date. So...wanna tell me your name and about your wound, cause I don't believe I have seen your name on the Jounin Roster or even around the Village that much?"

Hunter would quiz the man knowing he didn't even give up his own name. That will come in time, but for now Hunter just wanted to get a few details about this man out into the air.

WC:287

Mon Feb 24, 2014 3:57 am

He closed the door shut when the man walked past him. One of those types. The window gave way to some sort of turtle and suddenly what could have been a simple visit turned into something else. Sora turned and allowed his back to ease against the cold plastic of the door. He was geared out like a Shinobi of Kumo, but didn't look like a Genin. And if he knew the other Jounins enough to be confident that Sora was not one, then it could only mean that the man himself was a Jounin.

Or perhaps something higher.

The attitude was all wrong. Looking down at his feet, the Demon watched as a mostly-dry strand of red plodded its way down his black tight pants. It was barely visible, but would leave a mark on his boot that would be nearly impossible to rub off if he didn't stop it. With his other foot he wiped the heel against his shin, trying to press away the descending blood. While doing this, distractedly, he spoke with an air of resign to him. "I asked you - what do you want?" When his left heel moved away, he saw the line of red on his right leg -- it had reached his shoe, and was drying. Mother fucker. The attitude was all wrong with this guy. He sure as shit wasn't a doctor, and something told him that this guy was strong.

Strong enough not to have had humility beaten into him.

The Demon smiled, his crocodilian teeth a parody of what a kind smile should have looked like. Tucking his hands behind his back, the mercenary touched the back of his head to the door, finally meeting eyes with this newcomer. Green hair. Sora's smile widened. Green fuckin' hair.

Mon Feb 24, 2014 4:15 am

Hunter watched attentively, he had realized that by now he was in fact the intruder, but was also being studied...and also being made to watch the rather shoddy attempt at hiding blood. Just the scent of it was driving Hunter mad, the Iron was so thick from fresh blood it was as if he had just killed an animal in a hunt. It made Hunter itch for a fight, and unfortunately for the man in front of him, he was going to be the target. That is when the man began to grow impatient and asked him what he wanted again.

"Oh me...well you see I am just doing my duty to cheer up patients, look out for beautiful damsels in distress..."

Hunter said as he stood up from the windowsill with a gesture as he spoke. He was actually very cocky during that moment, but he had a feeling about this man...perhaps it was someone that needed him more than he knew. So without much warning Hunter summoned his faithful Wakizashi and threw it to the man. The speed at which he threw it would make even the sheath stick into the drywall. Hunter did this more to see what the man already knew rather than to put his life in actual danger. He knew the blade could not pierce his flesh.

"Go on, strike me, lets see just how much fight you got in ya. Or are you just another thug?"

Hunter would spit on the floor after he would ask, it was a formal challenge that a swordsman would only issue in a game of life or death. Yet the question remained...was the man a thug...or was he a swordsman.

WC:288

Wakizashi
Durability:60
Sharpness:80

Mon Feb 24, 2014 5:01 am

His attitude was all wrong. His neck tucked only slightly to the side as the Wakizashi came searing through the air. He returned his head to its original position, allowing his cut and bloodied cheek to press against the vibrating surface of the blade. Cold and apathetic. Sora's grin lessened. His left hand labored upwards and wrapped around the hilt of the weapon, staying there for a while as if introductions were in order.

What should not have been visible to Hunter, given that Sora's palm was turned away, was that he had looped one small loop of his torn shirt's cloth around the hilt. There was a lot of blood on him and the last thing he wanted was to die because the sword slipped.

Adrenaline.

The throbbing agony in his body became an afterthought.

The geography of the room was rather straight forward. Sora leaned against the door, on the far end of the room, and on the other end was the open window. On Sora's left (and Hunter's right), there was the hospital bed, which took up roughly sixty percent of the length of the room. And lastly, there was the visitor's chair to the right, a plastic specimen that had seen one too many years of service. "You're kidding, right?" The prickling sound of his clenched teeth outlined the silence between them -- a silence that met a sudden end when he yanked the sword out of the door and ran to his right. Given how small the quarters were within which this fight would ensue, it might have made more sense for Sora to run right at his target. His sword in his left hand, Sora grabbed the plastic chair in his right.

"Hope you won't need ninja shit just to keep alive, princess."

What happened next was a single motion that had three distinct interpretations.

Cutting off the possible range of motion allowed for the enemy to become predictable. So he threw the chair right for the window. But to cut off motion, you must also become, to some degree, predictable. The plastic chair spun rapidly towards the turtle on the window sill. Given that Sora was not running directly at Hunter, nor was Sora standing still, it should have been difficult for the opponent to know that the chair would not hit the turtle. In fact, the chair, an unevenly shaped object, would pass over the turtle with its inner side facing the creature, and spin right past it without ever making contact.

But people could be predictable some times, and all that pets and friends and lovers did was make them weak. Weakness in the enemy should be exploited, like digging one's nails into a healing wound and opening it back up. Sora would shoot diagonally towards Hunter, keeping his base low and his right hand poised downwards to help him roll away from a possible counter attack. The question was, could Hunter afford to counter Sora's upwards slash while the plastic chair was whirling towards the man's pet?

In truth, it didn't quite matter. The Demon's slash moved from his bottom right leg upwards and to the left, creating a diagonal arc. The timing of the slash was such that it was right as the chair was passing over the turtle. So if Hunter was to intercept the chair at this point, he would have to deal with the hum of his own blade. If, however, he managed to deal with the chair beforehand, or even ignored it, then it left Hunter one obvious option of escape. He had to maneuver over the bed to Sora's left (and Hunter's right), to avoid running into Sora's trajectory of attack. Given how small their combat space was, it would be nearly impossible for the opponent to realistically evade the attack by a huge margin. And that suggested that the most likely form of evasion, should evasion come into play, that this cocky green-head would employ, was the narrow kind.

So should Hunter try to dodge, Sora would let go of his blade, allowing the cloth of his shirt to extend several inches beyond his palm, to try to slice at his opponent.

The ball was on Hunter's court. Would he do something about the chair flying at his turtle? And if he did, would that pin him between the wall and Sora's blade? If he dealt with the chair in some other fashion and chose to evade, would he be able to predict that in a split second, the radius of Sora's attack would shoot outwards?

Stay tuned.

Mon Feb 24, 2014 10:52 pm

Hunter paid attention as the man took the bait. It almost made him laugh, but Hunter knew that he needed to show this man exactly who was in charge in this moment. He heard a sharp, but quick rip, even if the motion was not there he could tell the man was planning something. Still Hunter did not even move, the wind blew inside the room as Hunter watched as the man did a quick study of the room before taking off in a burst sprint towards the chair on the left of him. Interesting tactic, but it was hugely predictable as Hunter watched the man pick up the chair and continue to run at him. Hunter was tracking his movements, they all seemed so deliberate and without loss of movement...which was a trait in good swordsmen.

What happened next was amusing as Hunter watched him throw the chair in what seemed like slow motion.

"So...your about as fast as a Genin...which would make your throwing speed..."

Hunter was calculating in his head as he still never moved from his spot. Instead Slow Death opened his mouth and about the time that the chair would be within his reach, Slow Death would extend his neck and bite down on the chair. His strength would be enough to crush it, all the while Hunter would still not move an inch even as the wind blew. Inside of him however, his Chakra was already flowing and his muscles were ready to defend if he needed to.

As the man crouched low to attack his legs is when Hunter would finally make his move. He would dodge the attack with a Body Flicker Jutsu, managing to appear behind the man he would use his Ripper Technique with just enough power to be an annoyance rather than do any physical harm he would strike the man on the back along his spine. All together with a speed of 40 and a power of 10. The electricity would travel quickly up his spine if the man were to be hit and would render him paralyzed for a single post.

If the attack would hit the man Hunter would sit down, crossing his legs and pulling his swords from his belt to lay them across his chest and over his left shoulder. Hunter would then sigh.

"You seem to have some form of training in the handling of a blade. I am impressed that you targeted my legs, if I were slower and the attack were to hit. I may have been in some trouble, but I am always the lucky one so I am not worried. Now lets have a chat, before you try...you wont be able to move, I made sure that I paralyzed you, just enough time to talk though. What is your name, and state your rank inside Kumogakure."

Hunter would wait for an answer as he would seem as if to dose off even. Was he bored, or just toying with the man.

WC: 506

Mon Feb 24, 2014 11:57 pm

Of course the turtle was a freak. Why the flying fuck wouldn't the turtle be a freak? Sora had assumed as much, that this enemy was much faster than he. It was the basis of using he distraction to anchor the man's reactions to a specific subset. But if the turtle was never exposed to danger to begin with, it meant that Hunter had every range of motion to answer with, and this was not something Sora had an answer for. He was gone in less than an instant, and the Demon's attacks swung with an ugly and unsuccessful trajectory. It's whipping hiss met nothing in the air until it came to a dull stop at the very end of its arc.

The man was behind him.

His palm sent a ripple of sensation up his spine like a wave of pins that had suddenly entered a debate with the end of his nerves. His legs went numb first, his knees unable to keep their shape and bending forward, allowing him to stumble oddly towards the wall, next to the window, until in the last moment he managed to turn and crash his shoulder and back into the structure. His elbows and chest went numb next, and breathing suddenly became a minute matter of instinct. The back of his neck went numb last, and his head slumped forward. Crackling pops of electric sensation ran their fingers up and down his being, blurring his vision, blurring his thoughts. While his hand had otherwise gone limp, the contraption of cloth tied to his hilt made it so that the sword dangled from his palm.

It swung like a pendulum, back and forth, reflecting Hunter's face upon its uncaring surface.

The Demon did not accept this paralysis laying down, and as his opponent sat down in all of his confidence and self-glory, the mercenary underwent a ruthless and constant strain to try to combat the effects of his nerves being numbed. The pressure had caused the needle sensation to worsen and undertake a crueler form, but he had been put through worse. Clenching his crocodilian teeth in a display of aggression, Sora engaged in a combat against his very senses.

But given that the man had succeeded in putting Sora into this position, and should he have wanted to, he could have delivered the killing blow, Sora obliged his intruder with the answers he had wanted upon first arrival. "I - I don't h-have a name." His voice was resentful, not towards the fact that he was nameless, but towards the endless stream of questions that this might send his way. Why don't you have a name? What happened to you? Who did this to you? What are you? But perhaps these Shinobi types had seen enough war to be familiar with those that had burn marks for childhoods, and stitches for memories.

"But you'll find me in your records as Demon... or Akuma, or Asura, whatever they've written it down as." His teeth clenched tighter and the ends of his fingers twitched. Every word he spoke was behind these clenched teeth, as he had never opened his mouth. It was both a display of rage and effort. He had to break out. There was no other option. He could feel that the sensation had peaked, and was slowly diminishing. So it had a timer. The opponent would know exactly when the Jutsu was supposed to release.

"I just got here... a few weeks ago... they said I didn't have Ninja training, so they couldn't put me as Chuunin. So I guess that makes me whatever rank is below that." His eyes moved over the sword that the man held. It looked less like a weapon and more like a form of art drawn onto the world to be shown and brandished. Demon's blade, a now broken piece of junk yard trash, had one too many signs of battle.

There was a few seconds left on the clock before the effect of the Jutsu should have subsided, based on Sora's initial estimation. But the effort had paid off, and the Demon was free. But he didn't show it. Standing perfectly still, he asked his question. "And who, may I ask, has graced me with this conjugal visit?" The moment that the man either finished answering or chose not to answer, Demon would reveal why he had clenched his mouth the entire time. The blood pooling behind his teeth, something that might have trickled down the side of his jaw were he to open it, had now collected beneath his tongue. In one erratic forward motion, he spat a mist of red forward towards the man's general direction, hopefully obscuring vision of Demon. And with his weakened senses and his tortured wounds, the Demon made a horizontal slash, aimed at Hunter's stomach. He hid his motion behind the densest portion of the blood cloud, but would not be surprised if the man saw through it.

He was just counting on the element of surprise.

Tue Feb 25, 2014 12:55 am

Hunter sat still. He listened to the man answer his words as his body went numb. The effect would not be for log though and Hunter knew that this man was not the type to just take this lightly, in fact he might choose to attack like a savage. Which was fine by him, the time to end this was now. He had to show the man that he was in fact in need of training, and also because he knew that the man had lethal intent for him with his own blade. He then heard the man call himself a Demon, or other aliases, which was good and all, but because he refused to give up the info he wanted

"No...I don't think I will call you any of those. Tell you what, I am going to give you a name. Unless you can scratch me with my own blade your gonna stick to it. I am gonna call you Bob...yup Bob is what you will forever be named unless you can manage to scratch me here today."

Hunter did it to gode him on, he could tell though by the Chakra readouts the man's body gave out, that he was indeed confused and pissed and when he answered about his rank, it made Hunter chuckle to himself, and he could feel the presence in the room as he would watch the reflection in the blade swinging like a pendulum, he was sure that feeling would be returning soon. As the man asked his final question Hunter stopped laughing as his face grew stern.

Just as he was about to answer he noticed the movement, and didn't move as the man, known to Hunter now as Bob would move quickly to spit a spray of blood in his face. Hunter moved quick and activated his Hammerspace Generator without blinking, summoning his Bokken and he would stick it to the ground in front of him in time to intercept the swing, a Speed of 80, With any incoming attack it would take the hit for him. Hunter would wait till Bob was done before he wiped his face with his free hand.

"Bob you need to rest my friend. If you wish to continue to try and EARN your name...you need to be at peak strength. I can get you there. Rest for the night, let them treat you, then we will meet again to train for real....Unless of course you think you can keep going?"

Hunter would say still not moving a muscle at the moment. The Bokken would be testiment enough that Hunter indeed knew how to fight with a sword.

WC:450

Black and Blue, but Red All Over

Black and Blue, but Red All Over

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Re: Black and Blue, but Red All Over

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Re: Black and Blue, but Red All Over

Re: Black and Blue, but Red All Over