Two Beasts one Victor (P, Mitako)

 
Yazu found himself in the square on this fine day in Kirigakure.  Though it was raining it had all of the makings of an ideal day.  Slightly overcast with little wind with a steady down pour of water.  The temperature only slightly chilly.  Yazu greatly enjoyed this sort of climate, it was his favorite part of Kiri, the rain. Well, the rain and the blood.  Yazu had always enjoyed killing, it was triage.  The weak were culled for the sake of the strong, a general tenant of the village, though he took it somewhat more literally than others, often times killing individuals who might be of help, or people who he shouldn't.  There was just a rush of placing someone's future within your hands and removing it from them.  However, his bloodlust was generally sated for the time being and he was simply out and about enjoying a stroll through the village.  Yazu wore his skin suit this day, it was black and hugged his lean muscled torso, it covered his mouth in a mask he decided it was ideal to wear to hide his emotions, since he was incapable of doing so himself.  He wore black pants and had his newly acquired ninja tools on his belt.   Around his right arm he kept it covered with a bandage and his eyes seemed normal reverting back to their black and yellow appearance despite the secret he held beneath them.   He had just recently acquired the eyes of an uchiha, the mighty sharingan, though he kept them inactive.  Around his chest he had a blue chuunin flak jacket, though it had no symbols as Yazu did not wear anything showing clans or affiliations.   So as he wandered through Kiri he saw the craftsmen working diligently through the center of town.  So when the white haired being saw something he wanted his first reaction was to take it.    He would reach out his bandaged right arm and grabbed the item and lifted it.  He was now in a part of town where guards were scarce so he would have no trouble scalping the item.  Until the seller saw him do it, so when called out his only reaction would be to get offended.
 
"Hey you fiend drop that unless you are willing to pay!" the seller would say aloud.  Yazu would do so looking back at him his eyes acquiring the bloodlust of a monster.  The item hitting the ground in a thud.  Yazu would look at the man, "What did you call me?  You pisspoor excuse for a human being.  Do you even know of whom you speak , I am Yazu of the Mist.  For this disrespect I will take payment for this slight in the form of your life."  Yazu would state coldly as his left hand would extend from his body at a speed of 55 and the black threads would traverse the 4 meter gap separating them.  His hand would clench over the craftsman throat and would proceed to turn black with the Earth spear and proceed to choke the life out of him.  Blood pouring from the man's mouth.  Yazu would smile from beneath the black mask feeling sated.  He did not notice a fellow chuunin seeing the crime from 20 meters away 
 
The rain still poured down and the blood ran over the sand as Yazu would drop the limp form of the man and reattach his left arm and continue about his day almost seemingly forgetting about the dead man.


909

888 of which I will mid topic apply to growing accustomed to the SHaringan

bump since ris is a slow reply

It was another misty, rainy, yet fine day on the bloody peaceful islands of Kirigakure. Or Shimagakure, if you wanted your tongue ripped from your mouth. Unless the person overhearing you was Mitako, in which case you'd get nothing but a wild golden-wheat stare. Speaking of the boy, he was sitting around Uncle Tiroh's stall, white shirt in one hand, big ass hunk of steel with a handle on it in the other. The shirt, whose cleanliness was debatable, was being used as a polishing rag of sorts to finish up the fine shine of this large slab of metal he felt so attached too. Almost more attached than he felt to his Uncle...

He remained entranced by that fine piece of hardware for hours. Almost to the point that his obvious obsession was scaring off customers with the thought of "There's some insane kid polishing an over-sized butcher's knife right next to the shop." When he could finally see his own reflection as if he were looking into a real mirror, he stopped. Aside from the raindrops bouncing off of its surface, his prized possession was now flawless, devoid of any smudges or finger prints, devoid of any leftover shame that may have taken the form of residual substance. He slipped his shirt back on, which at this point was soaked from the rain.

Now for about another twenty or so minutes, he sat there with the sword laid flat across his lap, admiring how color contrasted with the black of his pants as he ignored the sticky feeling of his wet garb. It wasn't until he heard his uncle getting aggressive with a customer that the boy finally lifted his head. Deciding it wasn't any of his business as to what his fellow chuunin did, he was about to look back down. Before he did so, he observed Yazu launching his weird tentacle hands at his Uncle's throat.

The snap was instant. The emotions that came forth weren't sufficient to summon a bijuu, no. They were enough to summon Mitako into action. The adrenaline was pumping through his body in seconds, and he cared not for stealth. His chakra flared with his shock, as he sprang into action from his seat, all the weight of the blade clattering to his side as he leaped forwards, hitting the ground with a full blown sprint at Yazu, before he could finish off the man. If Yazu hadn't noticed him until this point, Mitako would begin to swing his arm as if holding a blade once he was one and a half meters away from the tentacle's of Yazu's arms, aiming for the tentacles to sever the connection between the other beast and his kin.

[454 WC, lame post.]

Yazu had just grabbed the man by the throat when he felt the familiar flaring of a very unique chakra.  A chakra he had felt before, though he hadn't been exposed to it long enough to know the exact person it was.  However he could immediately assume it was hostile, and at this point it was beyond reason to attempt to talk his way out of this situation, it would seem confrontation was inevitable.  So before the person who was coming for him got there Yazu would take a step to the left crooking the threads and causing the whole arm to shift positions using the shifting momentum, so that just as the man came through to detach his hand from the remainder of his body, Yazu only needed to retract the threads back to himself quickly after releasing the corpse.  Placing the corpse in the path of the sword attack just after he had begun swinging it, so changing trajectory and stopping the sword swing would be extremely difficult.  His hand being safely out of the path well before the swing ever reached its apex.
 
Yazu's hand would finish its retraction, to where he stood from the man he now recognized as a fellow chuunin from the village known as Mitako.  The man had a unique chakra which gave him unique capabilities, Yazu had not yet figured out what those abilities stemmed from whether it was a bloodline or something much more sinister such as a container for a jinchuuriki .  So he now stood 5 meters away from the bloodied blade of the swordsman.  Who would now be incriminated in the death of the sword maker, since it was widely known that Yazu did not own a large blade.  Should Mitako find a way to avoid the shifting dodge and attack on his relative Yazu would remain prepared.  He knew there would be an incoming fight, and Yazu was delighted, the smile beneath his mask would be obvious, he would torch the entire village on the hopes that he could have an excellent fight.  And in order to do this, he needed to not be at an obvious disadvantage.  He would allow Mitako to come after him, just for the fight.
 
373

Mitako only really enjoyed combat when he knew his blade would strike its target. With this newly forged hunk of steel he had been lugging around, the ability to summon the massive sword helped with that. He didn’t have to do like most large sword wielders did, and go with the momentum of the attack. He could drop it and retrieve it without taking time to pick it up. 

That has nothing to do with what he did here, however, as he never summoned the blade in the first place. His empty fist, mid swing, would fall to his side as he pivoted on the ball of his foot and took off towards the left of Yazu, placing himself not quite within arms reach, but not so far that he wouldn’t be unable to swing the sword. 

[Even lamer post. 157 WC.]