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Hedoro

Hedoro blinked, and the insubstantial darkness that she'd thought herself surrounded by vanished as surely as if it had never been. Everything around her looked precisely the same as it had before. The same carpet, the same source of light which had first grabbed her attention, the same door that had brought that last predicament upon her. She knew now that the choice itself was not in the act of choosing, but in the action of carrying that choice out to it's ultimate solution. She could ponder the intricacies of each choice forever, and yet nothing would happen. No,
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she needed to take action. Even if she made the wrong choice, the act of choosing was what was the most important for the moment. To open, or not to open. She had no way of knowing which was the right answer, but judging from what had happened before, she felt fairly confident in what would happen, should she choose to open the door. And if that was the case, what the results of such an eventuality might mean, and especially, mean to her. After all, she was the only one here, that she knew of. That didn't change the fact that she was a very private being,
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that these jaunts into her innermost private thoughts was of a magnitude above anything that she'd thought uncomfortable before. But regardless, she felt a dim sense of definitiveness, she somehow knew that until she'd gone through each door that she might come across, that she'd never be free of this unfuriating hallway. That fact angered her, just as much as what she was being forced to relive. Channeling her anger and irritation, she stepped forward, gripped the door's knob, and flung it open. And predictably, the moment she began to cross the threshold,
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everything went dark for a long moment that simultaneously felt as short as the time it would take to blink, and also as long as a lifespan. But finally, light returned. She opened her eyes, and took a long look around her. She was apparantly back in Hidden Rain once more. There were several people somewhat close to her, but none of them seemed to notice her. That either meant they were rather ignorant, or that she was indeed within one of her memories again. And again, this new sense she was still growing used to, scent, was telling her a whole new world
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of information. The unmistakable odor of fresh rain and fresh soil filled the air, the scent of life, as it were. She inhaled deeply, and let her feet lead her, wandering around aimlessly, until she found whatever it was she was supposed to find. Looking would make no difference. If this was her memory, then she couldn't change things. She was sure she'd find her destination when she needed to. For now, she'd simply enjoy the change in scenery, the fresh air and the very minor bit of sunlight the clouds afforded. She took her time walking, letting anything that
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drew her eye bring her to a temporary stop, to behold whatever the site was, to see more of this new world she'd been given leave to witness. She saw people walking, heads downturned against the chance of rain. She saw children playing in the streets, and a dog rummaging through a garbage can. She heard things, as well. The various shuffling sounds of feet moving against the ground, the slightly raucous laughter of those playing children, the metallic clang of the garbage can which finally fell over, to the canine's delight. She moved on, having drank
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her visual fill of the current scene, wondering just where her destination was, what memory it might be. She knew she'd eventually find it, the chance that whatever force was controlling her would move her to a more interesting prison was very unlikely. She turned down streets at random, letting nothing guide her actions. Once or twice, she came perilously close to bumping into people, but even then, they never seemed to notice her. Of course, if this was the past, she was merely a ghost or a projection, no one could see her. Finally, she came to a stop as she was
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about to walk past a street. A sudden flicker of slight remembrance flashed through her. This, then, was the street that housed whichever memory she was here to see. Not wanting to put it off, she walked onto the street, moving down it's length as she kept an eye out for her younger self. As she moved, she heard a new sound slowly emerge, but she couldn't immediately identify it. She drew closer to it, and eventually was able to hear it closely enough to piece together it's source, and what the sound meant. But by this time she was able to actually see
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the source, and the sound's details were instantly ignored as irrelevant. Standing less than ten feet in front of her, was her. A younger version of her, surely, but not by much. She hadn't really changed shape in the process generally referred to as growth, so there was no way to date this memory by such a visual cue. But even so, she knew this memory wasn't very far back at all. Perhaps just a month or two before she left Hidden Rain to learn the ways of the shinobi? She was not the only one standing before herself, either. There were three others, all normal
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humans by the looks of it, and all of them standing side by side, facing the younger her. She recognized their postures instantly, knowing a fight was about to break out, as if the knives and pipes they held weren't an equal indicator. The leftmost one was the oldest, according to human time, he was likely in his upper teens, possibly lower twenties. He was somewhat muscular, but not overly so, and dressed in casual clothes which were scuffed and torn from frequent use. The rightmost was a young woman, maybe the same age as the leftmost person. Her clothes
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were in much better condition, although it was hard to tell with the unorthodox items she chose to use as clothing and accessories. She wasn't particularly well-muscled, but she did look in good health. The middle person was another male, perhaps a year or two older than the others, presumably the leader of their little group. He actually seemed to be somewhat well-off, dressed well and seemingly immune to the drab and filth of the street they were standing in. The man said something, but she was just a little too far away to hear what was said. But it
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was easy enough to guess what was said, as the three humans began to spread out slightly, preparing to initiate an attack. The younger Hedoro didn't seem particularly intimidated by this display, she'd fought plenty of people before, and oftentimes not just one on one. She kept moving, sliding from one foot to the other, slowly turning to keep a supposed eye on each of her soon to be assailants. In fact, she could watch them all while remaining still, but they didn't need to know that. They didn't know what was under the numerous bandages and scraps and
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rags she used as clothing. That would prive disastrous. For them. Just as the three humans began their attack, she did as well. She targetted the younger male first, rushing towards him rapidly. He seemed put off for an instant, and that instant was all that she needed. She leapt at him, bringing her knee up to smash against his face. He crashed back from the impact, tumbling against a garbage can, but almost immediately began to get to his feet again. The other two didn't let the younger Hedoro's attack go unpunished, either. While she was still collecting herself
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after that kick, the woman stabbed at her with the blade in her hand. The older man waited a short moment before he began bringing his pipe down with brutal speed, aimed directly for the younger Hedoro's head. Hedoro was in no position to dodge either attack. The blade sank deep into her side, all the way to the hilt. The pipe collided with her head, actually seemingly caving her head in. But instead of crying out in pain, or collapsing, the younger Hedoro stood her ground, impassively. The two assailants cursed, wondering what sort of trickery she was
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using, and tried to pull their weapons free. It took a moment, but they did. Although not just their weapons. The blade had a thin, almost invisible blue sheen on it's edge in place of blood. The same applied to the pipe. Neither human noticed it. By this time, the third human had regained their footing, and returned to the fray, demanding to know why the other two were just standing there with their mouths open. The older man was the first to recover, demanding to know what in the world Hedoro was, as he tried to bring the pipe down on her again. But for whatever
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reason, his angle was way off, instead of hitting her, he brought it down on the arm of the other man. With a loud crack, both of the man's bones in his forearm shattered, and he fell to the ground, howling in pain as he shouted out to know what the other man was doing. The woman thought that Hedoro had deflected the attack, and launched one of her own, stabbing out with the knife once more. She was aimed directly at Hedoro's back, there was no way the damned mummy would know she was attacking. But her savage grin changed to a shocked grimace
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as she felt the blade twist in her grasp and settle on a new path, the belly of the leader of their group. She tried to pull it back, but it was too late. With a gurgling cry, the older of the two men fell to the ground, clutching the knife to his gut, looking at the woman with wide, shocked eyes. He was not the only one. The woman had frozen, the knife had seemingly come to life in her grasp, doing what it wanted, despite what she'd tried. So shocked was she, that she didn't even fight it, or even notice, when Hedoro grabbed her by the neck and shoved her down
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to join the two wounded. Hedoro advanced on the trio, until she was standing right above them. Though it was very quiet, and they couldn't see her lips, she whispered something, and they heard it. What it was, the current Hedoro couldn't remember. What she could remember, however, was worse. Even though the fight was already over, the younger Hedoro didn't seem aware of the fact, She pulled the pipe effortlessly from the older man's loose hand, and raised it up high. Waiting for a long moment, she pulled her bandages from her face, showing her three
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newest victims what her face actually looked like. Then the pipe came crashing down. And again. And again. The current Hedoro could only watch as her younger self showed no restraint whatsoever, as she brutally murdered her helpless captives. And only at the end, when the last spark of life was gone from all three lumps of steaming flesh, did everything darken as the current Hedoro was pulled from the memory. During this darkness, which felt just as interminable and brief as the last, she replayed the memory she'd just witnessed, trying to remember
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one simple question. Why? Why had she been fighting with those three, was fighting with them really a worthy goal, had she really needed to do that to them, to kill them so brutally and unmercifully? She didn't know, but she had a feeling. Nothing concrete, but she had the feeling that it was she who had started the fight, that she had wanted to fight, to kill, for no other reason than the act itself. That somehow, the joy she felt while fighting and harming others, that that was the one source of joy and pleasure that she had known in those dark and grim days?
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Jinzo opened his eyes, staring up into darkness. It had happened again. He died. Jinzo looked to his right to see Orochimaru standing over him. "Go back to resting, my child" Orochimaru hissed. Jinzo immediatly fell back into a lifeless slumber, where all he could think about was puppies killing antelope.

((Artanus. Did you die in a fight? If not, you cannot post in the afterlife Just want to make sure. Oh and you cannot kill yourself to get here or dream yourself here))

Hotaru lazily opened his eyes not knowing where he was. Everything was as white as white could be. It was almost too harsh for the eyes. Good thing Hotaru had his clan's signature black shades. He gazed at the infinite plane looking for any signs of another soul. He was surprised to see another figure drifting on the misty realm. He began to approach him to see if he knew anything about this plane or how to get out of it. By now Hotaru had figured out that he was dead and this had to have been some sort of place where the fate of one's soul was determined.

[1/10]

Hotaru raised one eyebrow as the figure addressed him. He wasn't exactly sure how to answer. It was rather unusual until he saw the soft orange number imprinted on Alastor's hand. This prodded Hotaru's curiosity. He gazed down at his own hand to see a similar sign. It was the number 80 glowing in a soft orange slight. Its suddenly changed to a 79. This puzzled Hotaru even further. Was this some sort of timer? What was it counting down to? If it hit zero, would that mean something bad? All these questions ran through Hotaru's head but were left unanswered.

Although he had a sense of worry in him, he couldn't do anything about it. He then responded "Actually yeah. Lets hope its a timer to get out of here." Something strange then happened. Hotaru's black shades vanished. The one thing aside from his bugs that identified him as an Aburame had vanished into nothingness. This was rather strange. Hotaru slowly felt like he was losing himself but at the same time gaining something else. Little by little as time went on, Hotaru felt like he knew who this foreign ninja was. He felt close to him but at the same time he had never met him before.

[3/10]

Hotaru then began thinking about his origins to introduce himself. "My name is Hotaru....." He muttered but trailed off as he didn't remember what clan he was from. He knew it involved a bond with insects but he couldn't remember its name. Hotaru seemed to get lost in his thoughts, gazing into nothingness not sure what the future held....as well as the past for that matter. He couldn't undersand what was going on but it seemed it wasn't under his control. Hotaru suddenly woke up from his day dream as he responded "Not a clue. All I know is we both died and this is some sort of plane to decide our fate. Hopefully for the better...."

[4/10]

By now the numbers on Hotaru's hand were at 75. He wished he could make it go faster but he didn't know how. He shrugged silently at Alastor's suggestion. It was very likely that they were being reincarnated. Hotaru blinked as he always did but there was something different about it. When his eyelids opened, his eyes were no longer the dull brown that they typically were but now a bright crimson. Of course Hotaru didn't notice but Alastor was likely to see this unusual change. Hotaru then said "Well lets see if we can pass the time faster. Why not us have a little spar?"

[5/10]

'Lets see if I remember how to do this.' He thought to himself. He felt something familiar inside of him. Almost subconsciously, Hotaru began sending a vibe through his body. Almost instantaneously something began rushing out of his sleeves. At first it seemed like black sand rushing out of his clothing but the one would notice the buzzing that came along with it. It was a swarm of destruction bugs. Hotaru was rather surprised they had followed him to this empty plane. He had almost forgotten that he had dominion over these creatures. They were an essential part of his battle style.

[6/10]