Victim Round Up, a Sad Job

Mission Info:

Isamu was excited to check out the new bar that had been built recently, from what Isamu had heard it was quite an interesting place. He had been informed about it by one of his customers earlier that same morning, a powerful man by the name of Takeshiyama. The artificial man was looking forward to playing poker with the man, Isamu still had a bit of cash left after creating an Augmented Ninja Tool for Takeshiyama and his other customers and wasn't entirely worried about losing the rest of his savings. It was his understanding that his creator was going to be sending more funds his way soon, so even if he lost what he had gambling he wouldn't be in any danger of being broke.

The tall man walked about in a dark robe that wasn't entirely dissimilar in appearance from a Ronin Robe, the colors of his attire a mix of black and greys. His long hair was tied up in a ponytail and his piercing blue eyes looked about as he made his way toward the bar, despite his happy disposition the middle-aged-looking man still found himself on the lookout for danger. Instead of finding any sort of hidden foe or danger Isamu's eyes fell upon a group of civilians that seemed to be rushing down a nearby path that crossed the one Isamu walked upon.

The artificial man looked upon the group curiously as he made his way towards the point in the road where their paths intersected, though he felt an anxiety that caused him not to solely focus on them in case they were a distraction. Isamu continued to look about as he made his way down the road, but rather than continue towards the bar when he reached the crossing in the road he waited for the traveling group to meet him there.

The group of civilians seemed to beeline toward Isamu once they noticed him, which did somewhat concern the artificial man. He opened his telepathic link with his creator and Hasumi, informing them both of his location and the approaching people in case something occurred. He assured them however that he wasn't in danger yet, but that he wanted to keep them informed in case he was suddenly caught off guard. Fortunately, it seemed that Isamu's anxiety was unfounded. When the group reached him they quickly began to inform him that there had been an attack not far from the ruins of Tenga, and several refugees had recently arrived at their settlement. They had no clue how to care for or treat these refugees, however, and needed help from anyone who would be willing to come with them.

Isamu quickly informed the men of the nearby bar he was heading to, and that there might be some capable individuals there that could help as well. Stepping in line with the small mob of men Isamu and them began to head down the path toward the bar together. It didn't take long for them to arrive. Hopefully, Takeshiyama would be found there along with others who could be capable of assisting the refugees. They also needed people to help prepare for a possible attack. The men weren't sure what exactly had befallen the refugees, they weren't talking much and were a bit concerned that whatever had happened to their settlement could happen to them.

A few people volunteered to help, but Isamu kept his eyes out for anyone who looked capable or like a shinobi. He knew his creator wanted him to keep an eye out for anyone who could endanger or protect the settlements of this island, so he made sure to make a mental note of anyone who looked interesting and sent it to his creator via telepathy.

Not wanting to be rude, the artificial man introduced himself as Isamu to anyone who joined the group heading to the refugee-filled village. If anyone inquired further as to who he was he'd explain that he was an augmentor who was interested in making interesting and powerful tools and that if they wanted one crafted he'd be more than willing to do that for them. He'd let them know about the smithy he'd been working out of and that so long as the materials were supplied to him he would augment their equipment for free.

It didn't take long for the mob of people to arrive at the settlement, where they found the sides of the road littered with blankets and sickly people lying on top of them. Isamu was a bit hesitant to tend to the sickly-looking people at first, but as he grew near he noticed their illness wasn't quite borne by a bacteria or virus.

These refugees were escapees from a lab, as they all seemed to bear some type of strange mutation or another. Fur, scales, claws, and other animalistic traits seemed to have been forcibly manifested or grafted upon the bodies of all of the people who'd taken refuge within the settlement. Isamu remembered his sister telling him of all of the individuals she had seen during her time with the mole men and amongst Kurogane's experiments and guessed that these people had shared a similar fate. He informed his creator of the mutations he saw as he did his best to help.

It seemed to him that those with facial modifications and ones that weren't visible were the ones who suffered the most. Many of those whose faces and heads had been modified seemed to have trouble breathing or orienting themselves, some even losing vision or hearing as well. More than a few needed help finding a way to eat after their jaw had been transformed into something that couldn't move. Isamu did his best to help feed and care for the people as well as lead some of them towards a stable that was being converted into a home for them until a more permanent solution could be determined.

One of the people he helped a a woman who had been modified into the image of a harpy from some far-off continent's lore. Her arms were winglike, and her legs became more bird-like past the thighs. The operations had left her unable to use her hands though, and she found it difficult to stand with her new feet. Isamu hoped that the walking was perhaps something she could get used to if one of the medical ninjas within Moon couldn't find a cure. It seemed however that the woman's hands would need medical intervention if there was ever to be any hope of her using them again.

Isamu helped the woman into the stable and got her as comfortable as possible, making sure she had access to water and food that she could eat without her hands. Isamu left the building to find a shark-featured man gargling and thrashing about. It seemed he had difficulty breathing and was lashing out at people. Despite his difficulties, he seemed to be quite strong and Isamu watched as he threw a helpful villager through the window of a building. As Isamu was about to leap into action he noticed that some of the other chimera folk that had been struggling were starting to get aggressive as well. Realizing that things were starting to get out of hand Isamu quickly did the hand seals for the Shadow Clone Jutsu, making two copies of himself that he then sent to try and subdue the mutated people.

As the conflict started to grow in size Isamu and his clones found themselves grabbing people and getting them to safety more than fighting the mutated people. Unfortunately, Isamu didn't have much he could do in a fight, save perhaps knock someone unconscious if he hit them with the singular genjutsu that he knew. He ended up not using the ability during the conflict, however. While some of the mutated people seemed to exhibit abilities beyond that of a normal human it seemed that whatever benefits they had were outweighed by the health issues that accompanied them. Even the mutants that didn't get dealt with eventually grew tired or sickly enough that they just gave up and sat down after thrashing about for a bit.

As the incident began to become under control Isamu found only one of his clones had made it through the conflict. The other had met a rather unfortunate end, having been stabbed to death by the claws of someone with the features of a wolf. As Isamu did his best to help clean up and tend to the wounded he started to hear the villagers say they needed to get rid of these mutants. Isamu didn't agree with the sentiment but did little to argue against the people. He simply fought back against any suggestions to exterminate the mutants, saying that most of them likely underwent the change unwillingly and that there might be hope of their changes being reverted by a skilled enough medical ninja.

Eventually, it was determined that the people would be cast out, though some offered to help guide the people to another nearby settlement to see if they'd be willing to take the mutants in. Isamu was upset that he couldn't do more, and ended up pleading with his creator. Isamu couldn't convince the man to try and find a home for all of the individuals but he would be willing to try and study one of them and see if he could fix their mutations. Isamu went into the stable and found the harpy woman, explaining that if she was willing to come with him he would try and take her to a medical ninja that could treat her. The woman looked at him with a desperate hope that nearly broke his heart, he could tell she didn't want to believe him.

Isamu told the woman he wasn't sure if she could be healed but that he felt terrible about her current fate and wanted to do what he could to assist. She thanked him, and he did his best to help her to her feet and out of the stables. The woman struggled to walk with her modified legs but with Isamu's support, she managed. As the two of them exited the stables they would hear of another bit of news that was traveling through the settlement. The mutants that had come to the settlement as refugees had been the more docile members of a large outbreak of such people, and the more aggressive ones had taken to attacking people in the countryside. People were also getting sick, even if they managed to fend the mutants off. It seemed that the people from the lab had been exposed to some kind of illness and became carriers for it, and now it was beginning to affect some of the citizens of Moon.

As Isamu heard this he realized he was likely infected with whatever the illness was, if he hadn't been exposed while helping people or fighting then he was now that he was half carrying the harpy woman.  Fortunately, it seemed the sickness wasn't too terrible it just left a person fatigued for some time. It didn't seem to have lingering or dangerous effects, the only concern was that with all of the farmers getting sick, it was harder for them to work their fields. It seemed that there was a need for farm hands to help work the fields and sheer sheep at two of the nearby farms, while also looking out for the dangerous mutants. Isamu found himself volunteering again, even though he knew he'd likely start feeling sick sometime soon he felt that he should do his part to help with the crisis in front of him.

The poor 'harpy woman' decided to accompany Isamu, as she had nowhere else to go. Isamu opted to give the woman a piggyback as she was still struggling to move with her mutated limbs. As he made his way toward one of the farms he talked with the woman and tried to learn how she had been captured and experimented on, also doing his best to try and verify if it was Kurogane who was the culprit or not. He wasn't able to get much out of the woman, unfortunately, other than her name and that she didn't want to go back to the underground lab she'd been trapped in. It seemed one of the more able mutants had managed to carry her to the village they'd met in, but she'd been abandoned there. As they talked Isamu found out that the woman's name was Sakura, seemingly named for her pink hair. The feathers growing from her body seemed to be the same colors, making Isamu believe that Kurogane's experiments might be going beyond simple grafting.

If anyone accompanied Isamu to the particular farm that he was going to assist he'd talk to them as well, informing them of his suspicion that he believed Kurogane was the one responsible for the mutations these people had suffered. If anyone inquired on who Kurogane was he'd simply say he was a monstrous man who resided within the ruins of Tenga. He and his creations roamed the area and seemed to be responsible for some of the bandit attacks within the country.

After arriving at the first farm Isamu found a nice spot underneath a tree for Sakura to sit at while he worked. He quickly got in touch with the few farmhands who were well enough to work and began to assist them in preparing the crops. He did his best to follow their instructions, though he found the work to not be enjoyable at all. He found himself respecting farmers as he went about tending to the fields, there was no way Isamu could do this sort of thing for a living.

Sheering the sheep proved to be a worse experience. It wasn't that Isamu found the animals strange or anything. They seemed quite cute. But he didn't enjoy sheering their wool off, even if it was necessary to make clothes and other useful items.

As Isamu was working at the first farm he heard a shout from one of the farmhands. As the artificial man began to rush towards the sound he heard Sakura scream as well. Moving at high speeds he hadn't known he could reach, Isamu rushed at 88 speed to Sakura's side in time to notice the mutants that were attacking the area. As Isamu noticed these mutants he could tell they were different from the refugees. It seemed that most of them had mutations that were more acclimated to their body, though their behavior indicated that their ability to reason had been diminished.

Cursing, Isamu found himself grabbing a pair of sheers and fighting off some of the mutants to protect the farmhands and Sakura. The artificial man found himself cutting into the beastly mutants as they fought through the farmland, quickly breaking the sheers as he slashed and stabbed at a bear-looking man. Realizing that he couldn't beat this foe in hand-to-hand combat, Isamu quickly activated his demonic illusion upon the man as he was about to strike. The bear-man was entranced by the man and the flowers that suddenly surrounded him before then falling unconscious as his low chakra reserves were drained.

Isamu sighed as he fell to the ground and into a sitting position, not exhausted but needing to take a moment to gather himself. There were several times during the fight when the bear man had nearly killed him, and Isamu had a few scratches on his torso and arms now that were bleeding slightly.

Isamu got up after a few moments and made his way through the farm at high speed, running around and making sure all of the mutants were fended off., If there were any remaining he'd offer aid to anyone in combat with them, using his high speed to outmaneuver the monstrous men and hit them with punches that did little damage but distracted the monstrous men.

After the farm was saved Isamu went to Sakura and picked her up, asking her if she wanted to be taken to another settlement before he went to the next farm. Sakura didn't seem too worried about being attacked herself and told Isamu that she was better off with him for now as he seemed to be genuinely kind. She wasn't sure how she'd fare in a random settlement that would judge her for her mutations. Isamu felt terrible that the woman felt he was her only hope, but decided to take her along with him as he went to the next farm with some of the farmhands and anyone else who came along.

Fortunately, this farm seemed to have been spared by the mutant attacks, and while Isamu kept an eye out this time he found himself working for hours instead of getting into a fight. This farm didn't have any sheep in it but Isamu was stuck tending crops again, which he still disliked at the end of the day. Fortunately, the owner of this farm was willing to pay quite handsomely for all of the help Isamu did, enough that the artificial man felt compensated for all of the good deeds he had done that day.

Returning to Sakura he helped get her back onto her feet and into the piggyback position one more time, walking off towards Junko's home in hopes of finding a place where the woman could be treated. The artificial man wondered if his creator could do anything to help the woman. He knew that the man was a scientist of some sort, and Hasumi had informed him that the man knew something about the medical field. He'd seen it for himself as well, when Isamu had been guided through an autopsy his creator seemed quite knowledgeable on the subject.  If his creator wouldn't help then perhaps he could ask the woman who had led the autopsies for assistance.

[EXIT]

TWC: 3,003

It was with a large sigh that Takeshiyama would turn from his chair.  What was supposed to be done this night was a simple game of poker with a craftsman, he already could tell was going to be something different all together.  What he wanted was to have a few drinks, to have a few smokes on the kurisu he had recently purchased, and perhaps play a few hands of poker.  Winning money would have been a good thing, but it was entirely optional, call it the price of a good time.  Still, the moment he heard the door fly open, was the moment he knew all that fun was done.  Call it a sixth sense, but folks around here required more hand holding than any place he had ever been before.  He’d lay down his hand, it was garbage anyway, and turn towards the door to see a rather harried man approaching.  The man was covered in sweat, and seemed very disheveled.  How the man knew to come up to Kaito, he couldn’t guess….except for maybe it being his more than formidable looking physique.  Well….it did make sense he supposed, giving his arm a flex.  Yes well who else was he supposed to ask really.  He’d almost turned back around for another drink his mind already drifting away from the poor soul.  Maybe Daiki had out more than tobacco in this kurisu….he’d take a shot and another puff….what the hell.  

“Umm s-s-sir” the man would say, Kaito already twice now forgetting he was there.  

“May I help you?” He’d say with a smile, his eyes a little red as he took another deep drag and finished the other shot that he had already purchased.  This guy was for sure going to ask him to do something unpleasant and he might as well try to make it as pleasant as he could.  

“A-a man named Isanu….he said that maybe you c-could help?”  He’d say questioningly.  Takeshiyama would merely shrug and give the man a look that said to get in with it.  He would….and just as he thought, it was going to be annoying.  The guy spoke of how creatures had escaped a laboratory or something and were now in need of assistance.  The most likely culprit being one near the old Tengagakure ruins, which had its own host of malformed men.  To his understanding he was meant to go and help out not only the refugees but also the actual villages within the village they had all flocked too.  Sighing, he’d wave at Daiki indicating to put everything on his tab, and make his way out of the bar.  He’d hoist the kanobo onto his shoulders, he’d left it by the door so as not to alarm anyone.  

He’d make his way towards the village led by the guy who had come and got him.  He managed to mostly keep a straight way as they went.  The pipe and alcohol working against him, but working for his mood at being summoned in such a way.  After some time they’d arrive at the village and he would catch a glimpse of Isamu helping out a…..bird woman.  He’d laugh at that and look at the pipe once more.  Putting it to his lips he’d inhale hard, the remaining herbs inside of it being burnt to a crisp.  After the inhalation, he’d punch his lips shut and exhale out his nostrils channeling a proverbial dragon as smoke rolled down his body from his nose.  He doubted anything he was seeing was real, but that was no reason to not finish the job and help.


He’d jump in by playing bouncer between the mutant creatures and the actual villagers.  Keeping them separated enough to prevent any real fights.  This took up the majority of his time, but as he did he would find houses or stables that they could stay in until others could come and assist them.  He was not equips for this, so he continued to play to his strengths.  

Soon the people were taken to whatever safety they could and then a different struggle began.  While it was difficult to tell, some of the refugees where in trouble and the others where trouble.  It was soon Sused out that the whole thing was an elaborate charade.  How did he find this out?  Well one of the men was shaped like a wolf and he watched as the man wolf stabbed his claws in Isamu.  He wasn’t quick enough to save him, and luckily as this occured he poofes into white smoke showing that he was in fact a clone, not the man himself.  A quick palm thrust sent the creature flying into a wall, and ended that threat rather quickly.  As he continued to move through the village turned war zone he quickly devised an easy way to tell the good guys from the bad.

It was as simple as walking down the street.  If he was attacked, he would assume that they were bad guys, if they cries and begged for help he assumed they needed assistance.  It wasn’t fool proof as he was twice burned, but his inhibitions where on the low side just at the moment.  Even as he continued the haze in his head began to shift from that if fun to soemthing that felt more like an illness.  He’d soon learn that the creatures where infected with something but just as quickly as he began to feel the effects it would vanish.  Training and his perfect body seemed to overcome the poisons.  Feeling a bit better he would find a large thing of rope and tie up the majority of the ones he seemed as bad.  Sure it was possible that he might have messed up and put in one or two folks who didn’t deserve it, but that was for the law and possibly Ren to sort out later.  He wanted to be in charge of so many things, so it seemed likely that he could sort it all out.  He felt comfortable in the fact that he had done his part.

Soon the work was done, and moving out he attempted to make his way out of the village.  He was hoping to take a quick turn and to head home before he was stopped by the same man at the bar.  He would explain to him that in all the fuss the local farmers were calling for aid.  The main concern being that the sickness the mutants had would affect their livestock as well as the crops.  Not being a farmer he did his best to talk his way out of it, but he was unable too.  Maybe the sickness was still in his head to be talked into pulling an all nighter to help out a bunch of farmers.  Still, what was done was done, so soon he found himself moving out beyond the village towards the local farms.  He would find the man in charge and figure out what exactly they needed for him to do specifically.  He didn’t know anything about crops, but again he was basically built for manual labor, so it was those tasks that he started to work towards.  

The farmer would point to where several support beams in the barns had been destroyed, and so that was where he started.  Though he didn’t know much in the way of carpentry, but what he did know how to do was move the supplies.  He would gather up the heaven wooden beams and move them so when folks who were versed in barn building could get to it they would have the majority of the hard labor done.  He would do all this, moving around the animals and watching out in the fields for any additional threats.  As though on que those additional threats would come.  They came in the way of more of the mutant things, and this time they seemed to come for the live stock.  

Grabbing his kanobo he would wade out through the crops swinging it with massive strokes like the most belligerent painter you have ever seen.  What he painted with was thicker than paint, and no man no matter how big the Afro would say it was done so with joy.  Still, the threat would soon be squashed and he’d get back to the other work that was required.  Several of the labor mules had been killed or run away, so his next task was to hook himself up to the wagons and plows to pull them all into the barns so that they were kept safe.  All in all these tasks took many hours and what light had been in the sky was long gone by the time he had finished such things.  The drink and other things had finally kicked in and when no one was looking he’d take a small lay down in the hay in the barn leaned up against a large cow.  Before he knew it he was sleeping, and his mind transitioned form the strange areas, to be enveloped by that of dreams.  

His dreams would be rushed and stimulating.  The kind of dreams that prevent you from ever feeling true rest when you awake.  They would flash between scenes of past failures, both exaggerated and real.  Then he would see scenes of combats and terrible nights.  All this would quickly move over him before he woke with a sharp start.  An awakening made all the more awkward by thag if a large man with a pair of very large and over sized scissors.  Rushing to his feet he’d bring his hands out only to have the man cower and yell that he had just come to ask if he could help sheer some of the sheep if he wasn’t busy.  Well when someone catches you napping it’s hard to protest thag one is busy, so taking the shears he’d ask where the sheep were kept and made his way over in that general direction.  

The process of shearing sheep, surprisingly wasn’t something that he had never done.  In demon country, his family had been rural enough that live stock wasn’t an unfamiliar thing.  Though he was never going to be thought of as a farmer, a little animal husbandry wasn’t so far removed for him to complete.  He’d take to the sheep, and shear them as best as he was able.  It was true that some seemed a bit more patchy than maybe the farmer would have preferred, but the job was still getting done.  All in all he was able to get through about 5 sheep when the farmer approached him with one last job.  He knew it was the last job, because he was starting to get tired and the nap had only exacerbated such feelings rather than leaving them abated.  

As it turned out, he hadn’t dreamed that two of the creatures had actually stolen some sheep.  The farmer asked if he could track them down, and bring back the livestock, as loosing even a few threatened his whole farm.  This seemed a touch dramatic but so did everything about this whole damn night.  With a roll of the eyes and a wave of the hand he would prepare himself to go out.  What had not been discussed or seen so far, was the fact that Wiggly-Woo was still wrapped around his neck pretending to be nothing more than jewelry.  Now it seemed it was time for the snake to earn its keep.  Once he was away from the farmer he’d reach up and gently set the serpent down in the ground and let him know what it was they needed to do.  It’s difficult for snakes to roll their eyes, but ole wigglesworth managed to pull it off just fine accenting it with a few flicks of the tongue that one couldn’t help but feel like they were on the receiving end of a rude hand gesture.  Which was impressive given the lack of limbs from the reptile.  

Following the snake first through the trees, then some plains, and finally to a cave well outside of the main village.  It didn’t take long for the snake to communicate, and crawl back up his leg and return to being jewelry.  Even without the creatures intense knack for sensory abilities at this distance Takeshiyama could have figured out where the sheep were.  Their noise echoed within the cave, which was a good sign that they had yet to be eaten.  Feeling himself getting tired, and angry….he let himself go more than he should have.  Drawing on his ancestral bloodline he would almost seem to burst in flame as he charged madly into the cave, his preferred combat area.  It was nice to be able to hit people, and it was even better if you could hit them once, they fly into something else, thus giving you two hits.  The environment is its own weapon if you really stop to think about it.  Which he absolutely did not.  Instead he truly channeled the Oni like viasage that his people could take on, and he did….well he did Oni like things to those poor mutants, but let’s be honest they deserved it.  

With that taken care of he’d lift both sheep up, one under each arm and make his way back to the farmer.  He’d drop them off, take some payment for the job and be gone in a flash before anyone else could possibly ask him to do anything.  It was just a matter of time that mole men would start to appear or something equally crazy and ruin his day.  

He would have liked to have seen Isamu and again and actually get to play their poker game, but he felt he’d been with the man in spirit the entire time.  After all they had both been in the village and both been on the farm, just too busy to truly interact much.  He’d find time surely to get the game in on a different day.  He might still have need of the smithy one day, so it was a highly probably situation.  

He’d absently run his hands over the scales of Wiggly-woo as he walked back to his home.  Everything continue to grow and pop up around where they were living, and he couldn’t help but miss the more simple times when it had been isolated.  Still, there was nothing he could do about it now.  So he would make his way home, after what seemed like an endless night and crash upon his bed.  His eyes would close, wigglesworth would wiggle away to the window annoyed once again at almost being crushed, and both would soon fall asleep.  His dreams would continue to be rushed and seen in flashes, blame it on the drink or smoke or maybe even whatever pestilence the creatures had held.  Still he rested as best he could, and soon new days would approach and offer their own challenges.



Exit

TWC - 2503

+90 ap to wiggly woo
Memorizing Isamu and Yama’s chakra signature for wiggly woo
2.5k towards https://www.narutoroleplaygame.com/t46349-en-chakra-detection-v7-2
+20 to vigor 
+ 5 to str

18k from 4 C ranks + 16k from 4 C ranks at B = 34k

With night's darkness enveloping the land, Yama soon found himself drawn towards the outskirts of a nearby village, quietly disturbed by the tales he heard of an unnatural and terrifying occurrence in the forests that encircled the village. Whispers had been buzzing around the town of a particular group of villagers acting unnaturally, twisting and turning as if unwillingly as they aimlessly shamble through the undergrowth of the canopy above. Fearing the worst, Yama plunged deeper into the woods, his eyes and ears ever watchful for the slightest leaf-crunching beneath unsuspecting footsteps, the air growing thicker with silence, interrupted only by the shrill hoots and calls of nocturnal creatures on the hunt. As the shadows grew longer and longer, twisting and turning to and fro almost mischievously in the dimming moonlights, Yama's senses grew far more alert, bounded tightly and unsure.

Every rustle of a leaf and snap of a twig raised the hair on Yama's body, all the while as he strained to discern the shadowy figures that lurked just barely beyond his peripheral vision through the darkness. Then, from some distance ahead, a ghostly moan that chilled the blood within Yama's veins sounded from the bowels of the forest, compelling him to ready his trusty blade with hands made steady by years of training and combat-hardened experience. Carefully but intently, Yama crept more deeply into the twisted thicket of the forest, his finely tuned senses tracking the shadows. At the same time, his alert eyes and mind swept the darkness for signs of movement. And then, as though emerging from the darkness itself, chilling him to the very marrow of his bones with their ghastly presence, he found them – the villagers, twisted and deformed with agony and fear drawn grotesquely across their features. Yama, realizing then that he had uncovered something far more frightening than he ever expected, steeled himself to confront the horrors beyond regular transformations, an evil force that must be unveiled and undone – or the village, trapped in darkness and the haze of moonlight, would suffer whatever consequences there may be.

Back in the realm of the living, Yama pursued the eerie procession of shambling figures through the dense heart of the forest. His instincts honed to an edge that could cut glass. He knew that he was growing ever closer to the source of the dark energy that drove these villagers to and fro. Every thunderous footfall brought him closer and closer to the truth, and his resolve did not waver in the face of adversity. The dolorous moon hung overhead, spreading its lustrous light over the dark forest floor as Yama silently hounded these shambling shadows. Each of his cat-like steps was mere whispers as he moved like the seasoned hunter. Every twist in the trail and spiderweb-draped grotto drew him further into this macabre procession, his nostrils flaring with every short, sharp breath intake. The trees shrank back from the gloaming as the village was left behind, and the dour procession meandered its way toward some sprawling ranch. As the villagers approached the shadowed ranch house, Yama watched from the vanishing boughs. His back was crooked by fear.

They moved in grotesque unison, creeping and moaning like puppets of some evil force. Fear and terror clutched his heart, but he pushed it down and approached the ranch with great caution, his eyes raking the still air of the night land for threats. The stillness stuck to him like oil, oppressive and thick. It was broken only by faint sounds as the cows and pigs twitched in their night pens. The ranch drew nearer, and Yama dreaded the answers behind those walls. He quickened his pace, his breath coming in shallow, cold puffs of fear and anticipation. He didn't know what lay ahead but would soon scrape the pall away and reveal Yama. And in the heart of darkness, in the untamed light of the night, whispered the answers he sought, and nothing would stop him from searching.

Yama was stunned for a moment as he watched in disbelief. The group of villagers that he had been trailing began to scream and broke out into a frenzy of violence. What had previously been lethargic movements and shambling turned to frantic energy and violent aggression. With chilling efficiency, the villagers had unleashed themselves onto the ranch and the house that lay in the center of it.

The night air echoed with the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass, followed quickly by the shouts and screams of the people within. Yama sprang into action. His instincts guided his every move, forcing him forward. With each swift and decisive step, he closed the distance between himself and the monsters, causing havoc within the ranch house.

As he neared, he gave a mighty shout, and Yama threw himself into the fray and began to strike with his lightning speed, engaging with the rampaging horrors that lay before him. Despite their unnatural strength, something that had to have been grafted into them, he fought like hell to fight back the so-called villagers from what they were doing. As blows rained down upon him from all sides, Yama's mind raced with questions about just what these villagers were and why they had decided to attack this family. But most importantly, where the hell did they come from?

With each strike and parry from their bloodthirsty swipes, Yama continued to fight back the monsters, eliminating them one by one. His rather aggressive tactics were beginning to shine as blood began to pour everywhere. Their blood and his were covering the ground below them, covering the grass and dirt with the vicious crimson liquid. His thoughts wandered to his darling Akaime, as they usually did when he would have the sight of blood grace his vision. There was seldom any time that his mind didn't slip towards the thoughts of his favorite man in the world.

He had only known the man for such a short time, but just in that time. The very meeting they had first spoken, his heart grew aflame from the mere thought of him. When he had encircled him in that pool of crimson, his heart would flutter, and his mind would race. When he pressed his body against Yama himself, his knees would grow weak, and his desire would only increase. He couldn't call it love... could he? He would push the thoughts aside for the moment as he realized he was starting to trail far away from reality.

He saw the monsters still coming; they seemed to have an unnatural means of resilience and grit. He would open the gate of Pain immediately, bringing his strength and speed to an unbelievable level. Several attacks would go off simultaneously, but only one would before his gates were opened. He fired off fists and kicks in rapid succession, but as he usually would aim for places that would keep his opponents alive, as he didn't have the aim to kill, he would eliminate this limiter on himself immediately. His strikes aimed at lethal results, and he didn't care what that would cost.

With a final surge of strength, Yama unleashed a devastating flurry of blows that sent the remaining villagers reeling, their twisted forms collapsing in defeat. As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded into the night, Yama stood victorious over the atrocities that meant this family harm. He could hear the family within panicking, scared for their lives. He would look through the window he was next to, seeing the family huddled in their room. He would raise his palm and wave to them, completely covered in blood.

He reassured them that there was no longer to fear as the monsters were dealt with. After a few moments, the family seemed to calm down, even nodding towards Yama in thanks. He started gathering the bodies and dragging them away from the house, figuring they would want the bodies somewhere in the fields instead. He threw a few of the bodies up onto his shoulders, and he carried them out into the pasture where they could be dealt with in a more organized and humane fashion.

His interest would be piqued when he saw the monsters. He would inspect them a little closer when he laid them down on the ground. They seemed to have grafted skin upon their faces, and their bodies were severely malformed, twisted in a way. He gazed at them awhile, wondering who would do such a thing. When he talked to the family, they pleaded that they had no idea what those things were and what they wanted with the ranch house. Yama believed them and shrugged. It could be a mystery for someone else to solve. Yama knew that he was a simple man with simple talents.

He could kill someone quite quickly, but figuring them out was a different story he didn't feel equipped to handle. This is why he had spent so long in solitary confinement in the woods. He was barely bothered by the bandits, and the silence was something that he could genuinely revel in and find his peace within, so it was comforting. Then, he was brought out of his contemplative stance and back to reality. He heard the people beginning to speak amongst themselves as if something else was wrong.

He approached the family and asked them just what was wrong now. They would simply point to where the blood had spilled onto the ground. He looked down and saw that the grounds were beginning to rot. The very earth below seemed to wither away, and all of the grass had died entirely since the fight between him and the monsters. He told them all to get back for a few moments so he could get an idea of what they were looking at.

He knelt to the blood spatters and traced the earth around the pools of blood. A chill ran down his spine as he realized the extent of darkness that had tainted this land, and whatever had created those beings certainly had some sinister abilities. As he continued to examine the foul-smelling mire, he felt an evil energy pulse from within it. He couldn't quite explain just what these creatures were, nor did he truly wish to understand their nature. He wanted to be rid of them. He was thankful the blood hadn't caused him too much of a problem.

But it was then that a woman pointed to Yama's back. She explained that his skin was beginning to become red, and a rash was beginning to spread throughout his back. He asked if they had a shower and if he could use it. The family nodded their heads and guided the giant into the house so he could use their bathroom and shower.

He washed himself clean, but the pain was still leeched onto his body. His skin was irritated, and small bumps could be seen beginning to form. His strength seemed to escape him as he continued to wash the tainted blood from his body. He pondered for a while as to what was even making these things. What could cause blood to be so toxic? He didn't know a lot about the current situation, but he figured it was still best for someone else to take care of it. He wasn't the smartest regarding investigations, so for now, he would relegate himself to a simple clean-up crew. But he would have to be fast about dealing with these individuals in the future.

He stepped out of the shower and dressed himself. He thanked the family for their hospitality and offered his services for whatever they needed around the house. The family accepted his offer by asking him to assemble the fencing that had been torn down in their attack.

Yama could only nod solemnly to the grateful family as his sense of duty forced him to grant them the favor they asked of him. Approaching the wreckage before him, the battle still echoing within his ears, Yama could see the splintered remnants of a once-proud wooden fence destroyed in the pitiless assault of the agitated villagers. With a heavy sigh, Yama's powerful hands set to work, carefully taking the ruined wood and returning it to its appropriate place.

With each nail driven into the earth, Yama's determination only strengthened, flooding his veins with purpose as he battled to make sense of the chaos surrounding him. Tirelessly, Yama focused on the task at hand; his brow furrowed in dismay as he raised the barrier from its ashes. Turning the tide as the sun set, Yama narrowed his eyes to shadows to see the rebuilt barrier, a small exemplification of hope in a host of despair. As he did so, he turned to the spawn of the ranch, their eyes meeting his in silent, knowing understanding. The pain of the past would likely never be gone, but as long as they rebuilt together, the road that lay before them would fall to the might of his and their righteousness.

Yama was overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts and feelings, leaving the ranch house behind him. On the one hand, an unshakable unease still lingered after his encounter with those deformed, monstrous villagers. What had they been, and where had they come from? And most importantly, what did their very existence portend for the broader world? With each step he took, Yama could not stop seeing the horrific, twisted forms of the creatures he had encountered, their bloodthirsty eyes and twisted snarls haunting him like a specter in the night. He knew that he had only done what was necessary to protect the innocent, but he could not escape the feeling that more was happening here than met the eye. But through all this unease, one feeling shone out: his desperate need to see Akaime again.

The mere thought of his beloved scorched Yama's heart with a burning need that utterly chased the shadows of doubt away. It was the affection of this remarkable man that had sustained him through the dark days, and it was his love that would carry him the rest of the way through. With fierce determination, Yama turned his eyes to the road before him, intent on pushing forward. Though darkness and peril lay on that path, he also knew that all the while, he had a love of Akaime burning bright to light his way. Thus, he bolted forward, his image dancing in his mind's eye, knowing that no matter what faced him in the days to come, no matter how brief or how long the time ahead of him was, he would never walk unloved – and he would never walk alone. This is at least what he had hoped, knowing that he still didn't deserve his love. He still hadn't earned his affection. But he would do whatever things he had to do so one day, he would walk in the light, sharing his hand in a beautiful embrace that would be set upon forever.

WC: 2513
TWC: 2513
EXIT

Claims:
Completion of 4 C rank missions
18k from 4 C rank missions
90 AP

WC Claims:
Moving 12 Speed to Chakra
New Chakra (50)
New Speed (70)

+1472 towards mastering Tank again (more power) (Complete) (Previous Progress)
+1000 towards Transparent Escape Technique (Complete)
Dumping remaining WC

Yama Kokoro wrote:

WC: 2513
TWC: 2513
EXIT

Claims:
Completion of 4 C rank missions
18k from 4 C rank missions
90 AP

WC Claims:
Moving 12 Speed to Chakra
New Chakra (50)
New Speed (70)

+1472 towards mastering Tank again (more power) (Complete) (Previous Progress)
+1000 towards Transparent Escape Technique (Complete)
Dumping remaining WC

Approved

Isamu Hayato wrote:[spoiler=Mission Info]

Missions Attempted
Help New Refugees
Not a Refugee After All
Happy Harvest Pt.1
Happy Harvest Pt.2

Participants: Isamu Hayato, Takeshiyama, Yama, Shisou
Wordcount needed:8,000, 2,000 per character
Base Rewards: 18,000 Ryo, 90 AP


[EXIT]

TWC: 3,003

[center]Claims

Mission Rewards
18,000 Ryo, 90 AP

WC Claims
+12 Speed
+2 Strength
+5 Chakra
+11 Vigor
Total Concentration Breathing 2,500 words
Whirling Defense Technique 500 words for D-Rank

Modified Totals
Total Ryo:103,200+18,000=121,200 ryo
Bonus AP:180+90=270
Total Stats:171+30=201
Speed:88+12=100
Strength:23+2=25
Chakra:20+5=25
Vigor: 40+11=51

Approved