Story Teller

Plot
The Rally (Flame Village)

16 posts in this topic

4899042-6850843495-20120.jpg.1b465d15a99f0d8548cae2645a4ebdce.jpg

The sounds of mumbling and whispers slowly began to fill the small dark room, a tight cramped location hidden somewhere deep in the village. It was a square room, most likely an old abandoned building being repurposed for whatever was about to take place. Rumors had been spreading all week of this meeting, with most people believing it to be nothing more than a myth. However those who paid enough attention managed to learn the secret location. With the start time quickly approaching, people began to flood in, cramming as many people as they could into the room. The smell of dust and sweat filled the air, a low rumble of voices setting the mood.

 

The front of the room held a stage, illuminated by several spotlights shining down on the wooden platform. There were a few microphones located near the front, with a massive banner hanging from the wall behind the stage, a banner that oddly resembled many of the posters that had been plastered around the village. The stage was empty at the moment, no one in sight for now, however voices could be heard coming from behind a wall, signs that things were about to begin. The opposite side of the room bore a small door, located at the base of a stone stair way that lead up into the streets of the village. Two dark figures stood positioned at the door, obviously body guards who were inspecting people as they entered. For a meeting that was meant to be a secret, many people seemed to know about it. The room was quickly filling up as all kinds of individuals could be seen finding their spots on the floor.

 

Apart from the random whispers, the room was actually pretty quiet, everyone on edge, tension filling the room. The walls of the room were littered with posters, with most of the people holding signs or wearing articles of clothing to symbolize they stood for this cause. That cause was still unknown though. Everyone here was anxious and ready to meet the man they had so blindly been following for the past few weeks. This meeting was promised to enlighten those who were tired of the unjust treatment by the shinobi world. An era of revolution was on the horizon, one which promised freedom from oppression. The truth would coming eventually, for now the meeting place continued to fill up, many eager ears ready to hear the truth and be enlightened.

 

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Akane thought the idea was utter bull shit. A real rally for some nonsensical revolution; an uprising to over power shinobi and the kage. She didn't think much of the kage, but when she thought of her mentors, of the people she had worked with and trained with over the past few years it made her angry. Not a one of them lived extravagantly above their means, or if they did, they had worked damn hard to deserve it. Throwing their life on the line to protect useless merchants complaining of their aches and pains and having shinobi carry their bags. To keep order from the teenagers, hooligans, and crime lords storming through the streets, exploiting people and forcing innocents to pay for protection against them. To locate and return lost pets, lost elderly folk, lost children. To rescuing the naive and unlucky people captured as slaves. Shinobi were heroes, and to revolutionize and overthrow them would mean putting everyone at greater risk. She herself wondered for her safety as she planned to go to the rally.

 

The woman had returned home when she had learned of the rally. She hadn't gone to the little farm she had grown up on and cared for in over a year and it had been overtaken by dust and grass alike. Yet, Akane had entered, bracing herself for the vivid and painful memories, hauntings of the past life she had lived here. She slipped into her mother's room, always even in disrepair, the cleanest in the house. The red head opened the closet and dressed herself in her mother's clothes, giving herself an older more worn appearance. Akane removed her clothing and shoes completely, leaving only her socks and her breast dagger on, sheathed against her sternum.

 

She slid on a pale pink working kimono, bunched and stained by the dirt of the gardens her mother had once tended to. It smelled of earth even now, and lightly of her mother's pungent lavender perfume. Akane fixed the white sleeves into a roll and secured them with a small strap. Then she slid her mother's old sandals on, the smooth wood also stained by dirt, the straps loose and dark in color. Akane pulled her hair into a loose pony tail, removing all of her jewelry except for a single small ring, red stone on her left pinky.

 

She looked like a spitting image of her mother in her younger years: hardworking, her legs and hands calloused, scarred, bruised, from shinobi work, but in this get up it could just as easily been mistaken for working on the farm. Akane knew what to look like, what to sound like. It was only three or four years ago that she herself had run and cared for this farm on her own. For good measure, she had actually left all of her belongings inside the home and spent a half an hour digging and weeding in the yard. With dirt on her hands, under her nails, and a bit of sweat dampening her bangs, the woman truly did look like a common harvester.

 

And it was in this dress that she had slipped into the complex, pausing at the door to look at the body guards, observing the faces in detail just in case, but trying just as hard to look inconspicuous. They asked for a name and occupation, and Akane gave her mother's, "Higurashi, Miaka. I maintain the Higurashi Farm." Assuming she had been let through, the ebon-clothed men wavingher inside, especially considering how small and insignificant she looked, Akane made her way through the dank room. This doppelganger of Mrs. Miaka Higurashi headed towards the front row, hanging to the right side in order to make a fast escape if needed. But she wanted to be close enough to see the man who entered and spewed his venomous blatherings. For good measure, Akane greeted another woman beside her, striking up a simple conversation on how tiring and hot the day had been. She listened to the woman respond in kind, complaining of her ills and her aches, and kept her face sweet and compassionate. It was her "I'm dealing with a customer" face and after many years of using it, she looked like them, talked like them, and smelled like them.

 

The woman was filled with anxiety, anger, and admittedly an abundance of curiosity. But she had to manage as much restraint as possible to complete her mission. She was here on orders, not out of personal interest, and could not afford to make her true identity known.

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Jin raised his spoon to his lips, sipping a mouthful of his miso soup out of it. Once that was done he slowly lowered the spoon, using the reflection it caught to continue spying on the two men, brothers as he learned, who were sitting behind him in the restaurant. He had been following them at a distance for about an hour now and they were none the wiser for it. From what he had heard both of them were planning on going to the rally tonight and that they both knew of a particular kind of cloth to tie around their arms to indicate they were "in the know" and would be admitted entry. Jin watched them get up and would continue to work on his soup till it was done. He'd watch them leave and saw what direction they turned once leaving the restaurant. He'd pay for his meal and leave about a minute after they did, leaping up to the rooftops with a couple well placed jumps.

 

As his quarry returned to their home, a simple one story domicile, Jinpachi had already slipped in the bathroom window as they were unlocking the front door. One went to the kitchen while the other went to the bathroom where Jin stood crouched on the ceiling. One arm would come down and wrap around the man's neck, lifting him off his feet in a bizarre kind of sleeper hold. His legs would kick but find no purchase and he'd quickly go limp, unconscious. Leaning the man down against the wall Jin would clamber across the ceiling like a spider till he was above the doorway into the kitchen. Once the other brother walked back through the doorway he dropped on him with a thud and rendered him unconscious with one blow to the side of the head, the beer the man had opened for himself spilling alongside him on the floor. 

 

Standing up and brushing himself off Jin would carry both men into their bedroom where he would expertly hogtie them with their sheets and gag their mouths before tossing them in their closet, though not before taking one of their armbands. He'd let someone know to come by and let them out later. Using Henge no Jutsu Jinpachi would transform into the older brother, clothes and all, before tying the identifying band around the appropriate arm. With that he'd quickly make his way to the designated meeting point, walking down the deep dank stairs into the room where the rally was being held. His disguise got him in with no issue and he began to mill about the crowd. Many people were talking but of course none of them had any real information that they hadn't heard before and that could be assumed to be anything but rumors. He'd start making small talk like the rest of the people around him to blend in but for now he was just waiting for something to happen. 

 

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Hannah, like everyone else had heard of the rally and decided to go. She doubted they would let those who were part of the village in and needed to disguise herself. A simple problem that some dirt and a kunai could fix. Making herself look dirty and homeless to those around her was easy. People were easy to fool.

 

Her attire after she had done the things consisted of a beanie, some gloves with the fingertips cut off, an oversized coat, and a pair of baggy and loose pants that she had stolen from Daichi's room. All of these things had been dragged across the ground and cut here and there with a kunai to make it all authentic like. Next was to conceal her face by adding some dirt and wrapping her hair up in a bun that was hidden by the hat, she also found some old reading glasses. The prefect disguise of an unruly civilian of the Flame that wanted change!

 

Then the girl made way to the rally building which one could tell was very busy and populated. Some secret meeting for sure. Assuming the guards did nothing to stop the homeless lady she entered and headed towards the stage as best she could through the crowd, being sure to pick a corner at the same time. 

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

 It wasn't too tasking for Yoshinori to find the place, with it being no secret that rumors of such a thing were running rampant all throughout the village. Other than the fact it was obviously the talk of the village, Yoshinori was always one to look at things from several perspectives and as such, it was only natural for him to be intrigued in the rally, regardless of it's true intent. Having no trouble entering (because who would dare disrespect an elderly monk?), he immersed himself within the crowds, enduring the smell of sweat as he along with everyone else awaited the man behind all of this. As he casually searched the eerily-silent crowds of anxious men and women alike, he quietly said underneath his breath, "Well, let's see how this goes..."

 

  

 

 

 

 

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Despite the way that Daichi seemed to interact with the people in the village, the man often found himself spending his nights doing things full of adult-like things but recently that had sorta changed. He wasn't enjoying it the same way he use to with all the drama that had been going on in the village, but even more so with his own plague of paranoia and insomnia that had slowly been creeping up. It had been on one of those long nights while he sat on the stool in some low town bar that he heard wind of the rally, though it was murmurs and nothing more than that. Being dry with no leads for a long time had caused his interest in the matter to increase to levels it normally wouldn't, so he'd come back to the bar a few times until he found a particular trio that had mentioned the rally more than once, almost as if doing the most secretive promotion for it. It was that group of three that was going to have a bad day.

 

One of third day did Daichi Uzumaki follow the group of men through the darkened streets of the Flame Village until they started to enter a darker part of town, where the man knew that there wouldn't be any active guards nearby, something easy to know when you were always on guard duty. They were mostly just thugs so it was easy for the tide of the fight to go in Daichi's favor, left with one man of the three still conscious at the end of it all and begging not to be killed. After delivering what was the sickest of one liners, Daichi would have proceeded to get the information of the rally out of him with means that most people wouldn't approve of. But he'd get the information, tomorrow.

 

.... That left Daichi where he was, looking at the mirror in his bathroom at the complex, letting a breath leave his lips. Although the man didn't quite look like himself, seeing that his usually red hair was dyed a deep raven black, the sink having remnants of the same color within it. His hair had long since dried and even though it looks really convincing, with a few times in the shower the deep black would be removed from his hair. He was way too cautious most times, not relying on the henge jutsu but the art of actual disguises instead. His outfit clearly screamed street punch, though.

 

Daichi wore a pair of black baggy pants and a sleeveless black shirt to match, which in contrast to his pants hugged his form nice and tightly. Over top of that was a beaten denim vest that complimented the rest of the outfit, finishing it off was the white bandages wrapped from his fingers and up to nearly his elbows. While he didn't have any weapons on him, he was more than capable without any and this mission called for him to go fully into his role.

The night before the day of the rally he would have left a note for a girl that he made a promise to, seeing he somehow thought this could be connected to the overarching conspiracy that he had been storming up in his head. If that was the case, then she needed to see this as much as he did, though he thought she needed to see this regardless. While she was still innocent, she was in a job profession that, the more use to the darker side of things you are, the easier and better of a job it becomes. She was around the age that she needed to start to see that and what was suppose to be a harmless rally and disguise mission could be a good gateway. Of course the note he left was simple 'Mission, meet me here. (Insert Location) Wear disguise. Heard of the rally?' It was cryptic and vague but she'd eventually learn Daichi's ways or understand. Along with the note was also some dye of her own and an outfit.

 

At the time and place he gave her the two of them would meet up in their outfits and move to enter the rally. When asked to give his name he would look at them and give a shrug, the same way a true punk would, the sincerity coming from when Daichi had spent his years on the streets,"Shinske Nakamura." Though when it came time for the girl to introduce herself, Daichi would let her talk for herself. Afterwards, without much words between them, they would enter the rally. The plan had already been discussed and was more than simple; Stay Close together and if anything happens, don't leave each other's side.

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Marjada skipped a step, as he guzzled down milk and came into the noisy building half-bent and undercover. Well not undercover per say, he didn't change his outfit at all. In fact, he even gave the bodyguards his real name. Due to his small stature, and even smaller reputation as a newly made genin-- nobody would be able to find him in the books. Literally, and due to him being from the opposite side of town, not a single adult around these parts would place his face. He pulled on his hat as he swung his way inside a red scarf around his wrist that he bought off a beggar looking for drink money. This was the final signaling to his flamboyant, but not too flamboyant entrance into the large boisterous warehouse. Marjada manage to laugh an innocent jest to himself whilst he occupied himself and took nest at the foot of two adults. You see, this mission was a bit out of his ranks; but what right-minded ninja would ignore the chance at a lifetime? There was a coup here, and he wanted to see if he could either stop it, or witness a mass overthrowing of the government. While he'd rather succeed-- the entire scheme of it was an appealing story. So why not be there? He wasn't hurting anything, in fact, he was helping it. Wouldn't it be the craziest thing, if the one who shut this entire revolt down was nothing but a measly kid? Man, oh man, would that rustle their jimmies! "This is gonna be wicked." He said, sitting down criss-cross applesauce. His eyes would do the skimming of the area, already he could tell the room was overflowing. Not long and the show would really begin.

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Momiji was preeeeeetty sure that the dye she had been given by Daichi was supposed to turn her brunette hair black. It didn't though. Instead her hair had turned an alarming shade of purple. Momiji was also pretty sure that that Daichi had meant to get the girl the right size clothing, but she doubted that he had much experience in buying clothes for teenage girls. The overlarge baggy pants could be cinched in place with a belt, which Momiji did, but the shirt was just unacceptable. It looked like she was wearing a garbage bag. So she dug through her closet until she found a tank-top she never wore anymore and the reason she never wore it was because it was hideous; the thing was an offensive shade of neon orange with a picture of a duck on it and a caption that said, "You gotta be quacking me."

 

It was awful.

 

What was worse was how much time it took for Momiji to tame her hair into a single tight bun on the back of her head after she managed to scrub off all of her facepaint. She hoped Daichi appreciated how much effort it took for her to look different. She tossed the dark denim vest over the atrocity posing as a disguise, ignored bandaging her arms up since she always did that, and plodded out of the door and down the street to meet up with her new teacher. It didn't take long from there to reach the secret meeting. Momiji growled at a few people and covered her nose. Rebels smelled bad. When it came time for her to give her name, she did so through her hand.

 

"Pumpkin."

 

In all honesty, she had forgotten to think of a name, but with the orange shirt on, she definitely felt like a pumpkin and the guards didn't seem to care as they let the weird looking girl enter alongside the "Shinsuke" fellow. She didn't talk, but kept her nose covered and her eyes peeled. Her other hand snaked out to grab onto the hem of Daichi's shirt so that she wouldn't lose him among the rest of the people.

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Nearly an hour had passed since people had begun to fill up the room, with the small enclosure now filled beyond capacity with all kinds of different people. The entire room, save for the stage and a few feet near the door, was jam packed with people, causing the room to be hotter than it should have been, the random stench of musk and dirty bodies floated over the crowd, mixing in with the dry dusty aroma settled across the floor. The last couple of bodies had finally made their way into the hall, the body guards moving from outside of the building, now standing with their backs against the wall, looking out over the crowd. The large wooden door would be pulled shut, a giant wooden beam slide across its surface. The door was securely locked from the inside, a possible attempt to keep anyone out once the rally had started. The lights in the hall would begin to dim, the only illuminated part of the room now being the stage.

 

A small wooden door located at the back of the wall on the stage would soon open, a hush falling over the crowd as those there were anxiously waiting for the even to begin. A large mass of black robes would spill out onto the stage, about twenty men and woman all dressed in the same black ninja uniform. It was obvious they were trying to hide their identity, however they cared less about hiding the weapons they had strapped to their bodies. Each person was decked out in various types of weapons, from swords to chain scythes and anything in between. The shrouded rebels, known as the Equalist, lined the edge of the stage, creating a perimeter to keep anyone from interfering during the rally. Their beady eyes scanned the crowd, taking a guardian type stance, as another figure walked out of the small door way, his foot steps echoing off the wooden stage with each step.

 

As the figure made his way to the center of the stage, he stopped in front of a microphone stand. Now facing the crowd he paused for a second, allowing everyone in the room to focus their full attention. Standing before them was a familiar sight to anyone who had been paying any attention to the village lately. He was a rather tall man, wearing a grey modified flak jacket, one that had not been seen for years. Attached to the leather suit was a cloth hood, that draped over the mans face. Staring out over the crowd was a set of small brown eyes, which were peering from behind the cover of a white mask. This mask was the same one that was plastered all over the village, the pair of eyes that belonged to this man were the very same that had been attached to the posters that were plaguing the nations. He stood tall and stern, placing his hand under the microphone and gentling lifting it to his face.

 

Amon-amon-30845016-500-281.jpg.6f4a723c47c4e7acf3027ddd476d6888.jpg

"Greetings my brothers and sisters, i am so very glad you have decided to join us this evening."

 

The masked man spoke in a very soft and relaxing tone, his words drifting across the room. It was almost soothing, with a very dark implication hidden behind his words. Regardless of the weight behind his words, the crowd could not help but zone in, as if being enticed to pay attention. The mysterious man began to pace across the stage, keeping his tone the same as each and every word expertly left his mouth.

 

"You all are here tonight because you seek change, you strive for freedom. Freedom that we once were entitled to, Freedom that is now being held hostage, hoarded by those who claim to have your best interest in mind. The Shinobi, led by the greedy and power hungry Kage, roam our lands doing as they please, suppressing your freedoms and imposing their own will. We have to abide by their rules, bend to their ambitions, and the moment we speak out, we are labeled traitors! Called rogue villains who only seek to destroy. We are the ones being destroyed! They wage war and conquest across our lands, with no regard to how things effect us and our lives. Our homes get destroyed, our people killed, for what!? For their heartless desire for more power, to assert themselves as our rulers!? We do not need to be ruled!"

 

His words cut through the silent room, every word he spoke being absorbed by the masses watching, like hypnotized sheep, nodding to every sentence. Eventually the crowd began to speak up, men and woman agreeing with his words started to shout things in agreeance. As the speech went on it was clear that the majority of the room was on his side, and the things they were saying were boarder line disturbing. It was clear to see how powerful words could be, and how deep hatred could run. As the masked man spoke, another group of black robbed men could be seen coming out of the door, dragging with them a person who was bound by ropes and wire. The group of robed men dropped the bound man into the center of the stage, directly behind the speaker. The bound man a jounin of the village, a strong shinobi that was well known around the village. His arms were bound, his hands being kept separate, and a cloth was tied around his mouth. The crowd erupted in excitement, beginning to get louder and more violent as the rally went on.

 

"For far to long have we been oppressed by these so called protectors. They use their gift of elemental control and super natural abilities to push us around, telling us how to live our lives. But what are they without their powers, their abilities and their weapons of murder? They are nothing, weak cowards who hide behind those with the true spines to rule over them. Their time is running out however! They have held the power over man for to long, now is our time brothers and sisters! We shall enlighten them, remove them and assert ourselves as the new power!"

 

Another eruption of excitement exploded out from the crowd, the entire room now throwing chants out, raising their fist into the air and agreeing with this mans point. As he finished speaking, the masked man turned around and positioned himself behind the bound shinobi. Holding the microphone in his left hand and placing his right hand on the top of the prisoners head his tone became softer, but still full of conviction.

 

"Now witness brothers and sisters, the next stage of evolution! Our weapon against the powers that would see us silenced. See how weak they are without their powers!"

 

The bound jounin began to shake, violently, as muffled cries of pain could be heard trying to escape from the man. A soft blue glow could be seen swirling out of the mans head and up into the hooded figures arm. As the chakra drained itself from the mans body, his skin began to take on a dark hue, shriveling up as the seconds passed, making the shinobi appear to be much older than he was. The color was pulled from him, his hair turning white and his flesh taking a translucent pale color now. Detaching himself from the drained body, the masked figure let the man drop to the floor, unconscious, and made his way back to the front of the stage.

 

"Now, you have seen real power, witnessed true conviction. It is your turn, this is your moment to be apart of the revolution. Tonight will be the first strike against our oppressors, and you all will be apart of the movement!"

 

Dropping the microphone to the ground, the masked man would raise his hands to either side, raising his gaze up into the rafters and speaking once more, his voice no longer empowered by the microphone.

 

"Your noble sacrifices will be the spark that ignites this revolution! Revel in this my children, you are now free and your voices will ring out through all the world!"

 

Without warning the black robed ninja on stage jumped into the crowd, pulling out their various types of weapons, and began to mercilessly slaughter the unsuspecting people in the crowd. The masked figure stood still, arms outstretched over the crowd, as screams of shock and horror filled the room. People instantly began to run towards the door that led out, which was now guarded by about fifteen more ninja, who were now cutting down those closest to the door. Blood quickly began to fill the room, with the crowd erupting into a swarm of madness and chaos. The brave ones tried to fight back, however they were unprepared and ill equipped for the large amount of men. The masked man would vanish, no longer standing where he was, lost in the confusion of the situation. The scene quickly grew gruesome, the body count piling up. It was obvious these men had no intentions of letting anyone out alive.

 

OOC:

 

There is no post order, the story teller will make his next post on july the 28th. Please only make one post with your attempt to escape, do not make it harder for others to post. This topic is now closed to anyone who did not already post in it. 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Posted (edited)

Hannah settled more into the corner she had picked as the multitude of masked people poured onto the stage. The number was strange to her. Not only did it seem like an intimidation move it also took away from the focus being on the speaker. Whether that was on purpose or not was unknown, but she would be on guard nonetheless, as always. Listening to the man's hypocritical monologue she couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Were people really this uneducated and sheepish? Just from a glance the persons who wore the masks were decked head to foot in ninja attire yet he preached ninja were the enemies.

 

As the speech reached midway and the jounin was pulled out Hannah leaned slightly forward. Her gaze concentrated on the leader's jutsu that was used and annotated how it looked and was done. It seemingly drained the vitality while leaving the victim alive, though she assumed not for long. Once again a hypocritical statement done by the man who truly had no connection to regular people. He was a ninja like the rest. It would only be allowed to pass for so long before the more educated general populace thought the same. This revolution for the non-ninja people to overthrow ninja was being led by ninja. They were just pawns.

 

--

 

How 15 other masked ninja came to the back of the room that was full to the brim without anyone noticing was bewildering to Hannah. Probably plot related. As the men jumped from the stage and started to mw2 airport scene the civilians Hannah quickly turned her head towards the back of the room to see the same thing happening. She brought both her hands up to her mouth and bit down upon both thumbs. As the blood trickled down her palms Hannah molded the needed handsigns before slamming her hands onto the ground. "Summoning: Quintuple Rashomon! Everyone get back!"

 

The ground underneath the foundation of the building begun to shake violently and was split wide open in several areas. From the fissures shot out 5 giant gates that surrounded the ninja from the stage in a pentagon shape. Blocking off access to continue their assault forward and the door that led out to the stage. These gates were tightly summoned together and spanned from the floor to the ceiling, leaving no room for escape. That wasn't all. Hannah pulled upon the chains of the gates and each one launched a volley of 50 metal spikes towards the ninja now trapped inside. Totaling a staggering 250 metal spikes in a omnidirectional attack. Assuming all went well Hannah headed towards the back of the room to help deal with the rest of the ninja. The injured or dead would have to be a secondary matter.

 

Spoiler

Quintuple Rashomon - 100 CP | The gates pop out at S-Rank speed at the same time and the spikes shot are also S-Rank. | Decreases the gates to A-Rank thereafter. | Just read the jutsu page.

 

Edited by Hannah Uzumaki
1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Jinpachi had settled roughly into the center of the crowd and he watched the stage as the show started. As the procession came out and the masked man began to speak Jin kept his face neutral but inwardly he showed much disdain. The man was nothing but a snake oil salesman. The fact that the crowd was buying into this was absurd to him. Preparing himself to listen to the rest of this tripe before reporting back to the Hikage Jin could barely contain his surprise when they brought out the bound man. He recognized him as a Jounin of the village, he believed his name was Kamuragi. He'd never spoken with the man personally but he had been a shinobi of the village for many years and his face was familiar. His first thought was to call out and demand that this farce cease but he did not know how many Flame village shinobi there were in the rally with him. The rabid crowd might just tear him apart if he revealed himself now, not to mention that his mission would be a failure. 

 

His hands clenched in fists of rage he watched as the masked man drained the chakra from Kamuragi and rendered him a husk of the man he once was, Jin assumed he was dead. It was all he could do not to kick down the door and charge out to bring down the full force of the Flame Village on this marauder. As the man spat out his last words Jin could not believe what he was hearing, "He wouldn't..." He thought to himself, just as the shinobi stepped off the stage and began to slaughter the crowd. "Dammit!" he growled, turning to the door, only to see another group of shinobi slashing through the crowd from that direction as well. 

 

This was quickly turning from bad to worse. Just as he was trying to desperately think how he was going to put an end to this situation he heard as his sister called out her summon. He cast an eye back and saw the gates rise up in front of the shinobi advancing from the stage. Hopefully it was successful at cutting them off, he thought, knowing it was his sisters strongest summon. He assumed at least Daichi had to be here as well. 

 

Releasing his transformation Jin would reveal himself to the crowd all call out loud enough for all to hear as he began to weave through hand signs, "Flame Ninja! Reveal yourself! We can push them back!" As he finished two A rank water clones would form at his sides. Both of them would draw kunai from their leg holsters and, holding one in each hand, charge toward the right side of the advancing line of 15 nin. They'd immediately lunge into attack, fighting shoulder to shoulder to defend and attack together as they clashed with Equalist forces. If an Equalist blocked an attack from one the second would attempt to lunge in for a lethal blow in the opening the clash created. Similarly if one saw a blow headed for the second clone it would block for them. With A rank speed and power they should be able to outfight any of the C rank Equalist, unless they all begin turn their greater numbers to bear. 

 

Jinpachi himself would form another short set of kata and leap into the air before taking a deep breath and expelling a blast of powerful Wind Chakra, "Wind Release: Art of the Wind Spear!"  The 2 meter by 2 meter blast would be aimed at the wooden door via which they had entered the room. It was barred but his jutsu was capable of punching a hole through an entire tree trunk and even some smaller boulders, so it would have no problem reducing the door to splinters. Obviously if anyone tried to throw anything at him while he did this the wind would blow them away and if any of the Equalists were between his blast and the door he'd be more than happy to use them as an impromptu battering ram to assist in knocking it down. 

 

Jinpachi scanned over the room as he was airborne, quickly trying to process the situation. If Hannah had trapped the 20 from the stage they had 15 to deal with. She was the only other shinobi he knew was in the room but he assumed there must be a few others. If there were they might actually have a chance of getting out of here with some of the civilians alive. 

 

 

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Posted (edited)

As the leader came out, Akane wet her lips. This was it, the moment she had come for. The moment where she had hoped her vivacious death stare might save them all the trouble of dealing with the leader in the future. He looked ostentatious, his mask utterly ridiculous. She hadn't ever thought that the cartoonish villain of the posters might actually dress that way in real life, and yet here he was. She toyed with her red hair, trying to keep her hands busy enough that they wouldn't try to make hand signs and outright end the man before her. And then, with the jeering of the crowd, out came a face she knew well.

 

Kamuragi, the jounin, a brave man: she had once had him as her Academy teacher, many years ago, back before she had even lost her mother. He was a hard ass at times, but the man knew how to turn children into ninja and his training had lain the foundation for who she was today as a shinobi. She bit her lip so hard it drew blood, seeing the ragged condition he was in. She started to step forward, moving a half step and pushing the person in front of her. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't be real. Not Kamuragi, not Kamuragi-sensei. She felt the child in her memories rise up teary eyed as the jounin was brought to his knees, as his skin changed color and his hair faded into white. She started pushing, like she was in a mosh, trying to boulder the crowd around her enough to create an opening. She was only three or four people from the stage, maybe she could save him..?

 

But the imbeciles around her didn't move, they laughed and cheered, jumping, blocking her path in excitement. "Get out of my way! Bastards!" But her voice was easily drowned out by the sound of the cheers. Akane's hands were shaking in fists at her sides now as she tried to burst through, but the woman was ignored and she saw Kamuragi's body fall. At that moment, she wished death on all of them. All the people on and off the stage. She had to see if Kamuragi was all right, she had to try to heal him. Her mind reeled through the medical knowledge she had learned, barely listening to the masked man on the stage. That is, until her ears heard the word sacrifice. She stopped moving, her anger focused, and with a back step, she reflexively reached for her nin pack which was not there. The people started to fall and for a second, she did nothing, feeling a mix of relief and joy at how they got what they deserved. And then Akane was back inside her own mind. It was good timing too, for just as an Equalist leapt for her, she had grabbed the woman besides her and kicked off the ground hard, pulling them both out of harm's way.

 

And a single second later, Hannah's gates broke through the line of sight, cutting off her attacker and the rest of the 20 Equalists as far as she could tell. A quick glance to the door told her the work was nowhere near done, and she held the woman's arm next to her tight. "Stay down. STAY down," Akane commanded firmly, releasing the woman, snatching the lady's small money purse, and pushing upwards, leaping into the open and vulnerable air. Her mother's little work kimono flapped and her red hair streamed behind her like billowing ribbons.

 

From the air, she saw Jinpachi's clones, thankful both he and his sister were there. There was no way Daichi had missed the rally either, so for that she was thankful as well. Her right hand hurled the money purse at the door hard, watching as it smashed and dropped an array of ryo from the door above. Then her delicate hands moved together in practiced motion, as though she had done it hundreds of times, using the sight of the flying money purse, and the sight of the falling ryo, as her genjutsu trigger. Boar - Dog - Boar, Akane's fingers spelled out her Distorted Obstruction jutsu. The illusory wall fell over the shinobi near to the door, created a 10m x 10m x 10m stone wall dome complete with ceiling. It would appear nearly identical to a common Earth jutsu and she hoped that in the raucousness and chaos, the murderous shinobi would fall for the genjutsu. If they did, they would react as if they were caught inside a dome of Earth, unable to fight, unable to break the walls down, and most importantly, unable to slaughter the innocents around them.

 

As she began to fall, Jinpachi's Wind Spear blasted from above the crowd, and she shot him a small smile, airborne shinobi to airborne shinobi. Breaking down that door had been her next idea, and she was glad they were same of mind.

Akane Chakra: 150 - 25 = 125, C Rank jutsu

 

Edited by Akane

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Posted (edited)

 Alongside everyone else, Yoshinori had been listening to the words of the man who supposedly led these group of... Equalists. His eyes followed every hand gesture of the guy as he was fixated on what he was so driven to preach. Though Yoshinori was one to look at things from multiple perspectives however, this was one thing he could ignore.

 

 He was well aware of the possibility that other Flame shinobi were in the area, however it shocked him when he noticed one of these presumed Flame shinobi producing two Shadow Clones, while near the stage, several walls had burst through the ground before raining down a barrage of projectiles on the trapped Equalists. With a surprise appearing every few seconds, suddenly the floor shook as a 2 meter by 2 meter gust of wind blasted through the small door, breaking it down as it would send splinters of wood flying. "It's time for me to contribute." Yoshinori would say calmly. 

 

  Though the room was packed with crowds, most had ran making it easier to separate them from the more composed Equalists who stood, anticipating another attack. This was what Yoshinori would count on as he would weave three simple, albeit crucial handseals. Suddenly with a brief cloud of smoke, Yoshinori had been joined by one copy of himself as he used the Shadow Clone Technique. After thinking for some time, he concluded it would be best to buy time for the civilians to escape, figuring his fellow Flame would be able handle the rest. As noted before, it wouldn't be too hard to separate the Equalists from the frenzied masses and spotting several Equalists who had now huddled together, he'd subdue them before they could plan something else. Yoshinori and the clone began walking toward them while performing four handseals, expelling two clouds of blinding quicklime; each capable of spreading within an 8-meter radius. Awaiting the familiar coughing associated with being exposed to quicklime, Yoshinori became content as it would hold off the remnants of any Equalists for at least 1 post. Though a C-rank jutsu, he was sure there was no way they'd be able to handle two at once with the minor techniques they seemingly were limited to.

 

 If successful, Yoshinori would use his remaining strength and swiftly guide a few civilians as the Equalists were somewhat immobilized temporarily [slowed by 1 rank].

 

 

       

 

Chakra: 500 - 50 - 50 = 400 CP

 

 

 

 

Edited by Yoshinori

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Posted (edited)

As Daichi had been standing in the room, with Momiji holding onto his shirt, he was listening to the murmurs of the people that were around him. He was feeling a mixture of emotions as he listened to the people that were talking around him; some of it was understanding, because he had spent time on the streets but he hadn't been oppressed by people like the shinobi, he had been oppressed by the same people complaining. So what their solution to feeling oppressed, to oppress another? Daichi was a shinobi but that had come later in his life, for him and his siblings, when they found a chance to make a better lives for themselves. The other main emotion that he was feeling was obviously a slow simmering anger. But that was easy to ignore, at least for now, but after a whole hour of hearing the people murmur.


As the man started to talk, like most of the other shinobi in the room had started to think, it was nothing but BS and propaganda, and the fact that this man had been able to earn so much power was mind boggling. As the people oohed and aahed, listening to his words as though missing just a simple word would have them miss the entire reason of this meeting. Daichi had listened but none of it affected him the way it did the civilians in the room and during his speech, he took a few moments to glance down towards Momiji. Of course, when Kamuragi had been dragged out from behind the stage and in front of everyone, Daichi's breath nearly caught in his throat. He wasn't someone he had simply seen in passing or someone he had a deep past with, but Kamuragi was one of the Jounin that Daichi had gone out for drinks with a few times. He had one hell of a poker face, too, even giving the Uzumaki a run for his money during the games in the guard towers. That simmering anger that had been in his stomach suddenly started to boil and as the man moved down to touch Kamugari, Daichi took a step towards the stage. No one would stop him, he towered over most of the people in the room and especially in the immediate area of him....

What did stop him was feeling of the tension that was created when he was suddenly reminded that Momiji had been holding onto his shirt, but he couldn't look back at the girl because it'd be hard to hide the anger that was slowly creeping on his face. He moved back a step and as he watched what they decided to do with Kamuragi, Daichi's hands balled up to the point that, if his hands weren't covered by bandages, one could see his knuckles go completely white. He wasn't dead as Kamuragi hit the stage again, looking closer to an old man than anything else, but Daichi still kept his calm. And then the man made his announcement, and people started jumping forward with their weapons drawn.

 

The fact that a fight, or more like a slaughter, had broken out had saved Daichi from blowing his cover because he would had been able to take only so much more of seeing what was happening. He tried to keep his eyes on the guy in charge but his visage of the stage would suddenly disappear as he heard the voice of his sister scream out, followed by the rising of the Rashomon Gates and blocking off the people that had been in front of them. He had begun to spin on his heels to see what was happening behind him, hearing Jinpachi call out and catching sight of not only his wind jutsu but the bag of coins that Akane had managed to launch. His siblings and companions were here, his student too, so that meant no changes could be taken,"I'm putting you on my back!" He roared out over the sounds of people to the girl that was by his side.

 

With one handed ease, he'd move to pick the girl up by her shirt and then swing him onto his back, hoping that she would comply and latch on. Once she was close enough for him to talk in a more controlled town he would continue,"Watch our backs, make sure no one gets behind us, if they do, tell me." He paused for a moment, then added,"You don't have to close your eyes but you are going to want to cover your nose. This isn't going to be pretty." And then, without much warning, he would call forth his jutsu onto his form as lightning would explode around his form in a furious eruption, almost accenting the anger that he was letting explode outwards finally. His muscles would have expanded under the influence of his Raiton no Yoroi and his hair would spike upwards as well, though with Momiji hopefully on his back she would feel the jutsu coursing through her form as well. And, even in it's mostly contained state, her hair would do it's best to spike upwards in response to the lightning that would be surrounding the two of them. Even if his disguise had been good enough to hide himself before, at least his siblings and Akane would notice the ability that surrounded his form and be able to put together who Daichi was. But that was all he would do before he would fold his thumb and pinkie finger into his palm and concentrate lightning around his three extended fingers, which were pressed tightly together.

 

In that moment Daichi had become the most physically capable shinobi in the room, each of his stats boosting up to S-Rank immediately and allowing him to move around at a speed that most people would have issues even keeping track of. The opposition in the room, 15 men that had been split apart between several techniques, were barely any match for the redhead as he dash forward and use his technique to cut their bodies in half, with the ease that a red-hot knife would have going through butter. Daichi had only a few men near him that had been dispatched with ease but the anger that had been within his form wouldn't stop him from there,  easily weaving through the people in the room to the ones that were obviously Equalists. The group that Akane had caught within her genjutsu, from even the group that Yoshi had caught within a cloud of smoke, Daichi would move around the room and kill the enemies that had been distracted, while they were distracted and before they could regain their senses. Not their swords, or cloaks, or even any jutsu they may be able to try and throw at Daichi could have stopped his assault. It would not be fair in any sense of the word but they proved from the get-go that they were not here to play a fair game, and that was fine by Daichi Uzumaki. 

 

By the end of it all, assuming things had gone as everyone had originally planned, then the bandages that were on Daichi's right arm would be covered in a deep crimson color, a few splatters of crimson across his face and a couple larger ones across his clothing and body but with Jinpachi killing several and Daichi going to finish the rest, the room should have been cleared of threats save for the men that had hopefully and most likely gotten trapped by the gates. They were essentially sitting ducks, though.

 

Spoiler

Raiton No Yoroi: 35 CP, 15 SP
Hell Stab Technique, Three Finger Nukite: 100 CP, 50 SP


Remaining points; 165 CP, 335 SP.

 

Edited by Daichi Uzumaki
1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

All of the talk bored Momiji into an almost catatonic state, not that she could have focused if she wanted to with all of the various odors crammed into the room assaulting her nose. Eventually she gave up and just buried her face into Daichi's shirt. it helped some, but he still had the scent of hair dye on him. It was bitter, but at least it was better than the rebels. Even though she couldn't see what was happening on stage, Momiji could hear it and she could feel Daichi tensing up. Then there was a thump - the sound of a body hitting the ground. It was almost immediately followed by the sounds of screaming.

 

Momiji whipped her head up and away from Daichi only to be greeted with the sight of slaughter. Not just the sights, but the sounds and smells as well. She froze, her head pounding from the excessive input when Daichi swung her onto his back. She latched on as best she could, even when his lightning chakra washed over his form, and she tried to follow his directions to watch his back. She managed for about thirty seconds before she suffered from complete sensory overload; the smell of blood and smoke, the sounds of screaming and bodies breaking. Even if it wasn't trying mentally, it was physically on her enhanced senses.

 

"I'm sorry, sensei," Momiji whimpered before letting go and dropping off his back. There was a brief second of dizziness and she vaguely felt a kunai rip through the muscles of her left bicep; thankfully her flesh was less sensitive than her senses. She had heard a window break when the defensive walls had been summoned, so she bounded over to it, dodging civilians and baddies alike, and pulled herself up onto the sill and hopefully out the window without any further injury.

 

Spoiler

Had to escape due to Momiji's bloodline weakness.

 

1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!


Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.


Sign In Now

  • Word Counter

    Word Counter