Seasons Beatings [Festival]

The moment Kotsuzui breached the line of the Gauntlet the punches came in swinging from the crowd that had gathered. Even though he had his arms up in a somewhat combative stance, he made no attempt to block of deflect oncoming strikes. It was more of a mental stance than it was physical. It was an attempt to prepare him for each strike. To take the hits as best as he could. Though in reality it did not matter how prepared he was for if a hard strike was coming at him it would do its damage regardless. 

The first few strikes were nothing to bat an eye over. Being a Kaguya likely helped the young Chuunin in taking some of the hits. Even so he was no impervious to the impact and pain. With each hit he took, the majority of them being to his side and arms, his body would jolt in the opposite direction of the attack due to the impact force. The jolts were not massive ones. Some minor. Some major. Some powerful enough to send the Kaguya wobbling into the other line only to be pushed back into the middle to continue the grueling journey to the end. 

As he continued down the line he could feel certain spots on his body getting weaker as he went due to taking multiple hits. Each time he took another hit in said spots his body got the sudden urge to give out, fall to the ground and give up. But Kotsuzui couldn't afford to give up. He had to take each hit and keep going. So far he was managing. But then he caught side of who he was coming up to. The Mizukage. The hit he gave Nobunaga to the kidney flashed in his memory as his body tensed up in preparation for a similar strike knowing that no matter what he did he wouldn't be prepared for a strike from Xyxer. His thoughts quickly shifted to his fight with the Mizukage a year or so ago when they engaged in close quarters combat. When he took a hit from the Mizukage straight to the head. But he couldn't remember how much the punch hurt because when it hit him it knocked him out right away. Kotsuzui could only hope Xyxer's strike was not similar to the last he took.

He watched Xyxer's body as it twisted for a strike. The strike being a kick rather than the punch Kotsuzui expected. The kick threw Kotsuzui off both physically and mentally. He did not expect a kick nor was his body ready for it. When the kick came into contact two things happened. The first was Kotsuzui's arm lifted up nearly being sent into the air if not being attached to his shoulder. The second was that he was completely taken off balance as he tumbled into the other line. From there Kotsuzui received a punch right on the cheek bone. Already being off balance, the sudden strike to his face knocked him straight to the muddy ground as he fell down on both knees and hands. It took him a few moments to gather his wits while his body was telling him to stop and that it couldn't take anymore. But he wouldn't. Spitting a glob of saliva and blood, Kotsuzui struggled back to his feet. Once he was back up his arms came back up in a similar defensive stance as before. A mixture of blue and red began taking shape where he had taken a punch on the cheekbone due to the ruptured blood vessels. Whipping the blood from the corner of his mouth on the back of his hand, Kotsuzui continued and so did the onslaught. 

The next noteworthy strike came closer towards the end of the line from someone Kotsuzui did not know but recognized. He was one of the Genin that participated in the Chuunin exams and was promoted. He recognized him from the ship they set sail on. He hadn't expected much from his strike in all honesty as he was rather small in stature and seemed more adept with weaponry than anything. But if Kotsuzui knew anything from himself it was that size meant very little in one's own strength. Nonetheless the newly promoted Chuunin swung his arm down hammer style onto the Kaguya's bicep, the same arm that took a kick from Xyxer in the tricep. Normally Kotsuzui would have been able to take the hit and sustain just the bruise as was intended. But this was no ordinary circumstances. His arm had already been weakened from the kick and his body suffering from all the other blows. So when his arm was struck by the hammer strike it nearly went out of commission. It simply gave out.

Lastly, came the brute and the end of the line due to having just completed the line. By now Kotsuzui was battered and bruised all over, all hidden beneath his dirt stained clothing with exception to the one on his cheekbone. His feet could hardly keep him up, the strikes from everyone doing more to knock him further down the line than his own legs. So when he came to the last man in the line there was very little resistance his body could offer up to the strike. Just the sight of him was indicative of such. His right arm hanging to his side no longer being able to hold it up, his left arm looking like it was being held by a string, his body wobbling forward. Judging from Nobunaga's look, Kotsuzui knew he was going to return the favor from the blow the Kaguya had dealt him. When the punch came Kotsuzui could feel the contents of his stomach rushing up to make an exit. It took every ounce of the Kaguya's remaining strength to keep it down, leaving no strength for his own body. His left hand cradled his stomach as he took a few more steps out of the gauntlet before his legs gave out and he fell onto his knees. It only took a moment before his upper body follow and he lay front side down in the mud. 

Kotsuzui lay there for what felt longer then an eternity. In actuality it was only a few moments. He knew now immediate amount of rest would be enough to recuperate from the beating he just received. He also knew that he couldn't remain here in the mud. It was a miracle he was still awake. He couldn't spend it taking a nap in the mud. Slowly, with very little grace, Kotsuzui pushed himself up to his knees with his left, functional arm. He struggled to get his feet under him, the ground beneath his feet not being balanced making it that much harder to do so. But he went on, one foot and then the next before he limped over to the other side of the line opposite of Nobunaga. Hunched over, he spit more clumps of blood and now stomach fluids out his mouth. He knew he had time before the next participant made it down the end of the line so he used that time to compose himself. He could only hope to be ready by then.

Taking it like a champ. That just about summarised the pink haired shinobis reaction to the assault he received from the hands of the Mizukage. Granted, it wasn't the first time, yet he retained consciousness this time so that was definitely a step in the right direction, even if that direction turned out to be the other line currently. Defiance wrought itself from the body of the Kaguya, and Xyxer felt as if he was glimpsing into the strands of time itself. A more primal time. Stories recited in the halls of the academy in Old Kirigakure of when the Kaguya had launched an onslaught on his precious village. A vain attempt, the scholars said, as they were cut down one by one as a reward... yet they never backed down, even to the last one standing despite the odds. For a moment, the conqueror saw this quality vibrate within the Kotsuzui as he stood up from the ground rather than being defeated by the unfamiliar custom. He'd earned a remnant of respect from the Kirigakure born.

After a series of other shinobi making their way down their line and earning their stripes of bruises, one of the victors made their way down the line. Ego was sure to be an issue for people that experienced such a triumph in the midst of every village, yet in truth... Xyxer encouraged it. He needed ambition to roar within them so he could utilise their full potential, as a village of drones would mean the inevitable demise of Kirigakure should Xyxer fall. He launched a simple strike on Nero, torquing his hips and shifting the weight on his feet as he threw his fist against the boy's cheek. Not enough to cause any lasting damage or breakage, as he was a rather merciful man.

Once Nero had made his way down the line, it appeared the conquerors time had arrived to traverse the valley he'd created. He stood at the mouth of the beast, judging the distance towards the other end for but a moment before a voice echoed within his head. It whispered sweet nothings, ushering the idea of godhood to him, how leaders do not willingly accept punishment as it dispels the illusion of invulnerability that is so needed with armies. It was too late now though, Xyxer was a man of his word if nought else. He would cross the line and take the punishment as was befitting. Once the others had reached the end of the line and assimilated fully, he proceeded with his own movement through the human bi-wall.

The short, bare foot, flamboyant haired Konoha shinobi showed his grit and toughness by making it through the alley of shinobi without losing consciousness. He stumbled and struggled his way through the fists and elbows and came out still on his feet, something Nobunaga could admire from the small man especially considering Nobunaga did not hold back on his own strike. 

By now, Nobunaga had some time to gain his composure and his breadth. The throbbing pain that was the aftermath of the strikes inflicted upon him were slowly fading away, which was good considering he would have to take his place at the head of the line in a few moments. Stretching the aches and pains out of his shoulders and back, the Hiyu would look down to see who was coming next. It was the Chuunin Exam victor, the small blond haired boy who had tried to introduce himself upon arriving in Kiri. Nobunaga had ignored him at the time, but he would get introduced to the former Kumo nin now. 

The way he was stumbling down the line, Nobunaga could see he was already nursing an injury. Admirably, he pushed on through the line of shinobi swinging away at him while clutching at his injured limb. To subjugate ones self to such brutality when already injured was a testament to his strength and perhaps the loyalty Kiri showed to their leader, to participate in this event regardless of the state they were in. When it came time for Nobunaga to deliver his strike, the Hiyu would give a well place hammer fist right down onto Hayate's left trap muscles, right in between his shoulder and neck.

Alas, it came time for the leader himself, the man who called this event in order, to conqueror himself who bested the Hiyu in one single blow back in the forests of the Fire Country. Now, it was time for Nobunaga to deliver a blow of his own. Nobunaga did not know if the other Kiri shinobi would be afraid to truly strike at their leader, whether they would pull their punches or not. Nobunaga had no intention of doing so. It was time to see if Xyxer was willing to put his ego on the line, much like he expected his followers to do. 

As Xyxer traversed The Gauntlet, Nobunaga payed no attention to the other shinobi at the types of strikes they unleashed on their leader. The whole time, his eyes were dead set on the Leviathan. Upon the Kage arriving at Nobunaga's position, the Hiyu would clench his right fist and send his muscular, heavy set arm swinging through the droplets of rain pouring down upon them. The knuckles of his index and middle fingers would slam into Xyxer's face, just above his right eye socket, directly on his eye brow. Nobunaga's knuckles would slide across the hair merely centimeters from his eye, slashing like blades, quite possibly drawing blood as his actual fingers slammed into his eye. The Hiyu would be surprised if he made it out of this strike without a black, bloody eye, a mark that would truly prove he had forgone his ego for this event. However, he was a Hozuki and he would not be surprised if the Kage's water physiology prevented him from sustaining injuries. It was still worth a shot.

Everyone was getting as good as they gave, and giving as much as they received. There was nothing left back this year. The recent war, the tumultous times, the surging of kiri's domination....Everyone could feel it. It was like the universe was surging toward something big and unknown, with Kiri at the center of the swell. And it moments like these, it was too much to contain. Like the festival of the dead long ago, artificial and social restraints evaporated, leaving raw and primal interaction.

Last year, as a new genin, he suspected some took it easy. This year there was no such luck. The path through the grass was wet and beggining to get torn up from the repeated march through. Twice Hayate's feet slipped from a heavy blow and he had to steady himself to keep from falling. It was the large hand of Nobu, chopping down from above toward his center of mass like a meteor passing through the atmosphere, that drove his knee down into the mud. he through his good hand out to catch himself, which ended up just sliding as well but stopped his face and chest from landing in the mud as well. He staggered back to his feet, and resumed the march, only a few participants left to pass. At the end he didn't even bother continuing to stand, rolling off the last hit off to the side on his back, laying spread eagle and staring up into the falling rain, white sparkles highlighted against dark clouds. A participant passed while he was still breathing, not yet bothering to entertain any thought in his head besides just existing.

He couldn't let any more pass. He struggled, slowly, unsteadily, back to his feet, wobbling his way back to the line. He'd do his best to land a solid hit on the arm or outside shoulder of any further passerbys.

Entirely forgot about this damn thread.

Exiting,

Will claim words later.

Approved, but your exit of Kiri is denied. Shame.

Approved of exit unless interrupted or overruled.

A few more finished down the line. Hayate managed to continue to give a few good shots, as per the spirit of the event, but thankfully there weren't many left.

Then the brutal event concluded as swiftly as it began. Sore, aching bodies reacted slowly to each persons will, as they collected their fallen armor and weapons and gingerly put them back on. Hayate's gear was slick, damp, and cold from water that had collected on the Kiri grass. It was almost like a scene from a zombie movie, as some helped others hobble off, and a few groans were heard.

The festival had served its purpose for Hayate. The thoughts of being a bright shiny new chuunin were dampened by the strength and toughness that were on another level from his own. The title was merely that, recognition he was no longer at the bottom of the scale, but he had not reached a new plane of power and existence. Merely a few steps higher on the long hill he was climbing.

WC 1744
Finishing Fuinjutsu spec (previous 294+1744= 2038, so 38 extra, whatever)
Claiming 8 stats to speed (100->108)

A bruised disappointment, Nero didn't feel different from any other day in Kiri. He once again promised himself he'd be stronger the next time this festival arrived, deep down fearing it would remain a promise like the year before. He shook his head. Few drops of blood were thrown off. No. This year had to be different. He was going to improve, or he was going to die.

[EXIT. WC: 458 towards Rain Tiger At Will (494+458=1052/2500), 2 stats]

Ok

Oh, topic closed, we all forgot about it like characters in Game of Thrones