A Dark Mark, The Sixth Deal

The recent attack on the village had been devastating, a number of areas had been attacked simultaneously and the villages defenses had been stretched thin as many of the powerful Ronin visitors joined in repelling the disturbing chimerafolk from the village. While the attack had been repelled there had been extensive damage. and the entire village was abuzz with people working on reconstruction. Amongst the bustling crowds walked a man with a different purpose, one that still troubled him. Isamu had successfully handed out 5 Curses to denizens of Moon since his master had bid him to learn the Juinjutsu technique, but the possibility of killing someone he was trying to empower haunted him even as he continued to make his dark deals.

The Wannabe Samurai was dressed in his Iron Country Armor, including the helm. At his right hip were 2 swords, a katana and a tanto. The tall man easily found a path through the people even as they quickly moved through the street with wood and other construction materials, most taking note of him and getting out of his way.

Using his master's connections with the village leader, Lady Tsukiko, as well as his sister Hasu's limited knowledge, Isamu had discerned the identity of a few of the village's new shinobi and sought them out to beseech them to risk the Curse Mark. Among them was a young man who bore similiar features to Isamu and his sister. Beneath his helm Isamu's piercing blue eyes sought out another pair of the same color, along with shoulder length black hair. Isamu first traveled to the young man's abode, knocking on the door and waiting for an answer. If that didn't work he'd travel the village and seek him out in the places where shinobi congregated. The training grounds, the plaza in front of The Kage Tower, and other such areas.

WC: 312

It hadn't been long since the battle at Shinoda Springs, an event that had etched itself indelibly into Seikatsu's memory. It was a confrontation unlike any other, not just for the fight itself, but for the startling revelation of facing an ancestor—a link to his past that had sought to undermine the very sanctuary he had come to cherish as home. For most of his life, Seikatsu had been a solitary figure, navigating his existence without the deep connections that bind one to a place or a people. Yet, his recent travels closer to the Land of Moon, and the paternal figure he encountered there, had sparked a profound shift in his outlook.

There, briefly touched by a semblance of familial bond, Seikatsu felt a stirring within him—a desire to seize life more fully, to explore and embrace the complex tapestry of relationships and personal history. This experience had ignited a deep-seated yearning to understand more about who he was, his lineage, and the legacy of his family. Such knowledge was crucial, he felt, to truly define his identity and shape his destiny.

However, the path to uncovering his family history was fraught with obstacles. Despite his recent surge in strength—an exhilarating rush that tempted him towards further power—Seikatsu recognized that he lacked the means to delve into his roots effectively. This limitation was frustrating, yet it also fueled his ambition, pushing him to seek out the means to expand his capabilities.

The allure of instant gratification, a sensation he had typically dismissed, now danced tantalizingly before him. The power he had begun to revel in, the strength he felt was within his grasp, was intoxicating. As Seikatsu reflected on his journey and the battles he had faced, both external and internal, he felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and grasp that power fully. It was not just about the thrill of strength; it was about securing the tools and knowledge necessary to uncover his heritage and truly understand the full scope of his potential. This growing thirst for power was not just a craving—it was becoming a necessity.

As dusk settled over the village, enveloping it in the comfort of twilight, Seikatsu found himself relishing the security and tranquility that nightfall brought. It was during these quiet hours that he felt most in his element, most attuned to the subtle energies around him. However, this serene moment was abruptly interrupted by an unexpected sound—a knock at his door. Such an occurrence was a rarity for Seikatsu, whose visitors were few and far between. The sudden noise caused his deep blue eyes to widen in surprise, a brief flash of emotion crossing his face before he regained his customary stoic expression.

He walked deliberately towards the door, his steps measured and cautious. Upon opening it, Seikatsu was met with the sight of a figure clad in unfamiliar armor, the likes of which he had never encountered before. The stranger's presence and attire threw him momentarily off balance. His right hand reflexively moved to his face, his index finger scratching his temple in a gesture of puzzlement. Who could this be, and what could they want with him at such an hour?

His thoughts ricocheted wildly within the confines of his mind, like a bouncy ball careening off the walls of a confined space. Questions about the visitor's intentions, the significance of their armor, and the potential implications of this encounter raced through his thoughts. Despite the tumult of his inner speculations, Seikatsu managed to maintain a composed exterior. He stood at the threshold, his posture calm but alert, ready to engage with this mysterious visitor. As he faced the armored figure, Seikatsu prepared himself for whatever explanations or challenges might come next, his mind a whirlwind of curiosity and caution.

Only a few cautious words escaped Seikatsu's lips as he stood in the doorway, his eagerness to uncover the purpose of this unexpected visit palpable. He managed to compose his curiosity into a simple, polite inquiry, "May I help you?" His tone conveyed both a readiness to assist and a desire to understand just who this person was and why they had come to his door at such an unusual hour.

---

Isamu was relieved to see the boy he was looking for when the door was opened. Part of him had been worried he’d run into one of the Genin’s parents or another relative, the wannabe samurai knew the task before him would be all the more difficult if that happened. The artificial man already thought it cruel to risk the life of someone so young, he could only imagine how much the guilt would increase if he met the child’s family. Isamu took a good look at the boy as the door was opened before him. Though the boy was the same height as Isamu it was clear he was closer to Hasumi’s apparent age. Not for the first or last time Isamu wished that his master had some other means to increase the power of moons denizens against the threat that was Kurogane.

Not wanting to keep the boy waiting to long for an answer, and wanting to push this ordeal toward one end or another as quickly as possible, the living clone quickly answered the boys question.

“I apologize for the late hour. My name is Isamu, and I have been going throughout the village giving ‘gifts’ to those who are willing to take up arms against the mad scientist that threatens us with his creations, such as the ones that assaulted the village.

This gift of mine takes the shape of a fuinjutsu mark, one that can enhance your body to become as powerful as the Sage’s that influence this world. The procedure by which I place it does carry a risk of death, but so far 5 have gladly accepted that chance and come out alive and stronger than ever.

Would you accept this risk, and take a chance at power beyond that of a normal shinobi?”

If the boy accepted the deal, despite the odd circumstances by which it had been given, then Isamu would nod and remove his helm. He looked to be middle aged, but in truth the artificial man had walked this earth less than a year. Loose strands of black hair fell from his bun as he held the helmet in his hands, and his piercing blue eyes meeting the deep blue of the boy.

“Let us go to a place where you can lay down, even if you survive the mark it will render you unconscious. The mark also must be placed upon the torso in order to properly acclimate to your body, most seem to prefer to choose the location of the mark themself”

If the boy went to a place where he could lay down after being inflicted with the curse mark, then Isamu followed him and put his helmet down somewhere nearby and clean. As he set the helmet down his chakra flow would suddenly increase, his body enhancing itself to the point that an aura of blue energy would start to build up around him and his armor. Turning back to the boy Isamu would perform a single hand seal, Tiger, and then reach with his left hand toward the place Seikatsu indicated.

“I hope you survive young warrior, and that together we can drive Kurogane and his ilk from this land.” With that Isamu would activate the technique, placing a 150 power Curse Mark onto the boy.

WC: 552
TWC: 864

-40 AP for Tobirama’s Fury (+50 Vigor and Speed)
-100 AP for Orochimaru’s Juinjutsu (150 Power)

Seikatsu didn't have to wait long for an answer. Moments after he posed his straightforward question, it became clear that the visitor at his door was here not so much to seek help from Seikatsu, but rather to offer it in a most unusual manner. The man, clad entirely in traditional Samurai armor, remained an enigma, his face obscured, making it impossible for Seikatsu to discern his identity. This mysterious appearance added layers of intrigue and suspicion about how and why this Samurai knew where to find him. It seemed plausible that he might have connections with the village's leadership, which would explain his knowledge of Seikatsu's residence.

As the Samurai began to speak, Seikatsu's mind was suddenly awash with memories and reflections, particularly of recent events involving Kimiko and her claim to the Aranha lineage. These recollections served as a poignant reminder of his ongoing journey of growth and the vast swathes of knowledge he still sought to acquire. Listening intently, Seikatsu caught the essence of the Samurai's message—there were gifts being bestowed upon those in Tsuki, meant to fortify them against unusual threats.

The Samurai spoke of powers that could rival even the legendary sages of the land. With such a declaration, Seikatsu's curiosity deepened, mingled with a sense of wariness about the inherent risks of wielding such formidable abilities. The mention of death as a potential consequence struck a chord within him, emphasizing the gravity and irreversible nature of the path that lay before him. The finality of death was articulated in stark, unambiguous terms: a permanent, irrevocable cessation of life.

Death by itself, was a wouldn’t wanna be ya type of thing.

As the Samurai elaborated, Seikatsu found himself increasingly absorbed by the gravity of the conversation. The details about the gifts and the formidable powers they entailed were both enticing and daunting. Seikatsu realized that accepting such power was not merely an opportunity for growth but a commitment laden with immense responsibility and inherent risks. This was no ordinary dialogue; it was a crucial exchange that might well dictate the trajectory of his future, potentially altering his very purpose and identity within Tsukigakure.

He learned that five others within Tsukigakure had already undergone this transformative procedure and survived. These individuals now possessed abilities that allowed them to expand their strength exponentially—a prospect that deeply appealed to Seikatsu. The allure of such power, the chance to elevate his capabilities to unprecedented heights, was nearly overwhelming. The timing of the Samurai’s proposal couldn't have been more opportune, resonating perfectly with Seikatsu’s current aspirations to advance and evolve. He felt a surge of impatience, an eagerness to interrupt the Samurai’s steady stream of explanations with an eager affirmation.

However, as the Samurai concluded his exposition with a pivotal question—Would Seikatsu accept this gift?—the young ninja found himself hesitating at the threshold of consent. As he was about to voice a resounding yes, a wave of sobering realization washed over him. The mention of death, a stark and final consequence of the power at hand, struck a chilling chord. The potential of not just failing but ceasing to exist entirely loomed large, casting a shadow over his initial enthusiasm. This sudden confrontation with his own mortality forced Seikatsu to pause and consider the full spectrum of implications. The promise of power was undeniably attractive, but the irreversible stakes involved brought a profound weight to his decision. This was not merely a choice about accepting strength; it was about measuring his readiness to face the ultimate risks that came with such formidable gifts. The Samurai's question now echoed in his mind not as a simple offer, but as a profound challenge to his courage and conviction.

The deep blue eyes of Seikatsu had hardened with resolve as he opened his mouth to speak the decisive words, "I accept." In this pivotal moment, those were the only words that needed to be spoken. As he watched the Samurai in front of him, the man began to remove his helm, revealing features that bore a striking resemblance to Seikatsu's own—both sporting long, dark hair and eyes that mirrored not confusion about themselves, but a kind of enigmatic depth that seemed to guard their inner thoughts and feelings from the world.

Their eyes, deep blue like a clear, undisturbed ocean, seemed to hide mysteries that were not meant for others to unravel. This unspoken understanding created a subtle connection between them, hinting at depths yet to be explored.

Following this revelation, the man suggested that they move to a location where Seikatsu could lie down, hinting at the potential intensity of the forthcoming procedure. The implication was clear: there might be pain, or Seikatsu might lose consciousness. The Samurai confirmed these possibilities with a swift clarification, underscoring the seriousness of what was about to take place.

Seikatsu then led the man into his home, guiding him through to the living room, allowing him to observe the living conditions of Seikatsu. The interior was impeccably clean but modestly furnished, reflecting the simplicity of his lifestyle. The space was sparsely decorated, containing just a couch in the living room and a small kitchen equipped with a table and two chairs—though Seikatsu often wondered about the necessity of the second chair, given his solitary habits.

Seikatsu's minimalist living space not only underscored his straightforward approach to life but also provided a stark backdrop for the profound transformation he was on the cusp of undergoing. As he prepared himself both mentally and physically for what was to come, the simplicity of his surroundings reflected his mental state—uncluttered, focused, and braced for change. With a calm resolve, Seikatsu positioned himself on the couch, lifting his white shirt to expose the area of skin where the mark, as instructed by Isamu, was to be placed. He pointed to a specific spot on his right rib cage, the location Seikatsu had determined that would be best suited for him. As Isamu prepared to administer the mark, he uttered what could potentially be his final words to Seikatsu, imbuing the moment with a gravity that resonated deeply in the quiet room.

Carefully, Isamu placed the mark exactly where Seikatsu's hand had indicated. With the mark now set, the next phase of Seikatsu's journey was no longer in their hands. It was a moment suspended in fate, entrusted to the will of the gods—or perhaps the inexorable threads of destiny that had woven Seikatsu's path up to this point. Seikatsu lay there, a mix of anticipation and serenity coursing through him, his heart steady with the belief that if his life's narrative had any influence, he would emerge from this ordeal stronger and more formidable than ever.

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Dice roll for Orochimaru's Ninjutsu application. good luck, survival on any roll except a 6!!

The member 'Junko Tsukiko' has done the following action : Roll Dice/Flip Coin

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'6 Sided Dice' : 3

The Wannabe Samurai waited as the Curse Mark took hold, fear gripping him as he wondered if this would be the first death at his hands. Seikatsu was likely one of the younger shinobi he'd used this technique on, and the artificial man felt that killing him would be a worse sin than any of the older shinobi he'd used it on, or even the other artificial beings he had encountered.

As the Curse Mark seemed to acclimate with the boy's chakra Isamu let out a sigh, it seemed he'd been fortunate yet again. He retrieved his helmet and put it back on, wondering as usual when the day would come that he would finally fail in his application of this technique. He hoped that it wouldn't be anyone young, though Isamu believed he would be continuing to apply the mark to new members of Tsukigakure and not any of the established ones.

Isamu lingered a moment before leaving the Genin's house, double checking that he had indeed survived by checking his Chakra with his passive sensory ability. Once he was finally satisfied the armored man left the boy's home and down the street of the residential district. Determining that he'd need a drink after the anxiety of this task, he made his way toward Darkside. As he traveled Isamu wondered if he should invite Sota to the village, see if he'd be willing to drink with him and the other patrons of the village's most popular restaurant. The Adoption center owner had been enjoyable company, and the Wannabe Samurai was curious to see how Daiki and the others would fair in card games with Sota and his son.

WC:279
TWC:1,143

[EXIT]