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~Silence fell as Damian stared at the wasteland that stood before him. It was if the land itself was a battlefield that had never gotten rid of its blood. This village was one he'd been planning to come to since he heard of its origins, yet there seemed never to be time to make his appearance. The air even had the smell of old death, something that few could get used to, though given his past experieneces on the battlefield, he had learned.

"....Sir are you sure you want to stop here?" said a shallow faced sailor whose eyes showed fear as he stared around at the place. Apparently he knew information upon this place that Damian did not.

Damian stared at the sailors clothing for a moment, taking note of his appearance. The hat upon his head was tattered as if unkept or taken from another suit that was many years old. His shirt was worn-in, displaying various patches that an unskilled hand had put in. The stitches were rather wide and some were even coming loose. A faded scarf hung from his neck, from the looks of it had been used to blow various bodily liquids upon. That was absolutely disgusting.... The sailors pants were no different from his shirt, torn and ripped in various places, though no patch job seemed to hold these together. Even more amusing was his choice of shoes. The top of his boot simply hung upon with, from what Damian could tell, fishing line. The soles of his shoes ran down to their bearings. This man had a curious look to his whole self, though Damian thought any information would be good, concidering he'd be entering the village soon.

"Yes.. I'm sure. Is there any specific reason why I should stay out? Do you know of some danger that I do not?" said Damian, his eyes displaying a casual quimsical expression. Hopefully the man had decent information instead of information that could be brought in comparison to his attire.

"....Do you not know why they call that place.... Hidden Blood?" said the sailor, wincing as he said the name as if he were expecting to get lashed at from an unknown source. His eyes traveled around Damian as if trying to avoid looking at him, though his eyes dropped to the ground as he peered into the trees behind.

"....I would imagine it had to do with their genre of jutsu or maybe even a name that explains how they began. There could be millions of reasons for why it is called that, though since you've decided to partake in my precious time, lets hear your explanation." said Damian, an air of aggrivation spreading about him. He didn't like his time being wasted, nor did he like vermin like this man who had a job, yet didn't use their money to take care of themselves.

The sailor stared at Damian for a moment, unable to understand if he was being shooed away or if the man indeed wished to hear him. After a moment he simply started, figuring that if the man didn't wish to hear he would leave or worst unleash whatever powers he had upon his poor head. That is what most did when they wished him to go, which was why he desperately hated his job, "....It is said that they kill travelers that they catch.... Many of the people that go within those walls, I never see again....."

This story definately was going to be a waste of his time. How could he have thought that he could get decent information from a rag-tag person such as a sailor. For centuries sailors were known for their crude stories that were nothing more then that, fictional made up instances that were hardly anywhere near the truth. They did however make good stories to tell children for humorous affects. Damian, however, wasn't a child therefore would not be subjected to such non-sense. Even if the village was as the man said, they'd have a hard time in doing it to him. He afterall, was a Sannin, one of the strongest shinobi in the world.

The sailor stared at the back of Damian's head as he began to walk off. At least the man hadn't decided to punch him or worst steal what little money he did have. Usually that is what happened when he began to tell stories he'd heard from the other sailors. They were much bigger then him though, so he really couldn't do much to stop it. His father had been a great shinobi, though he'd been kicked out of the family, banished and told to never return, just because of a stupid mistake. That was the whole of his life though, which was why he was now a sailor, a rather fidgety one at that. Sighing, he leapt onto the boat, going down to the inner sections with a last glance over his shoulder at Damian, "....Farewell young one...."

Damian shrugged, standing infront of the forest that separated the docks from the village. His eyes traced the inner parts of the forest, trying to make sure that there was nothing that could jump upon him. Even if the man was entirely false with his accusations, it was better to be safe then sorry. Even the darkest places within the path were searched thuroughly before he took foot outward onto the land. No birds chirped within this forest, nothing beautiful about it. It was the story of his life. One village would have its ups, though the next would have its downs. However, if he could learn anything from the residents, he would. Even if he had to force it from the residents. He hoped however that the village wasn't too big, because even though he was one of the greatest Shinobi in the world, he couldn't take on too many at once.

Even the trees seemed to speak secrets to eachother as the wind beat upon their branches. A few leaves dropped into the sunlight, showing the blood red color. This village was proving to be a most mysterious one. What was he thinking? He wasn't even in the village yet and the forest was creeping him out. Maybe what the sailor said was correct... Wait, this was just the youth speaking. A grown man wouldn't be scared of this silly forest. He was just letting the youths hormones get to his head, affecting his mind set. Apparently he was getting too used to the body.

As he strode forward through the forest, Damian put his mind at ease by thinking of previous events in his past. Some of his more memorable memories were when he was apart of the Akatsuki. The Akatsuki had taught him more then most could. He'd even trained under Bone while being within the groups confinements. That had given him alot of useful techniques. A chuckle echoed throughout the surrounding trees as Damian realised the granduer of it. He'd trained under the strongest within this world, thus he must become stronger then him. The grasshopper would have to become the master as it would be said within some martial arts.

Soon, Damian figured he would stop learning techniques and start up with a few S-Ranked missions so that he had something under his belt that people would remember him for. Afterall, honestly, who became well known just off of their technique usage? There had to be some missions within Hidden Leaf that he could complete for the Hokage, or maybe even the Mist Villages Mizukage. There was always another upcoming criminal that needed to be disposed of. Smirking, Damian kept on forward, remembering that he'd left his Bingo book within the Shadow Village, "...I'll have to go back and get that soon....."

Cursing himself, Damian's foot got caught in a hole, sending him forward to the ground. His hands were barely able to catch him from hitting his head upon the root of a fairly large tree, "....How far can this village be?" He thought as he pulled himself loose of the hole, shaking off the various clingons that had held themselves tightly to his cloak. He would not leave until he learned something from these people, though the village wasn't within sight, nor was any humanity for that matter.

For several more minutes, Damian's feet shuffled along down the lengthy path. Finally the edge of the village came into view, though it looked nearly the same as any other village he'd been within. There weren't many people traveling about though. Some scowled at him as he passed, staring at his headband, then to his clothes. From what Damian guessed, they didn't enjoy other kinds of shinobi then the ones within their village. This didn't really matter though, because if they fought him, he woudl succeed in learning techniques, and if they didn't he would learn them either way. Sighing, he glanced around trying to decide whom he'd ask to learn something from.

For now at least, he decided the people were entirely unfriendly, so he shouldn't ask for any help. He'd most likely end up having to spar with one of the villages shinobi to learn anything given the hospitality he was being served already. An old lady crept with her cane around a corner, muttering under her breath as she stared at Damian. This village was beginning to breep him out, though he still refused to leave just yet. There was definately potential here, though how he would find the key to unlock it was entirely unknown to him, "...... hmn.... where to go.... where to go...." He muttered to himself standing in place as he gazed at the various buildings.

Oddly enough, his choice was a cemetary where he saw a man standing over various dead bodies. This was most curious, yet even if he didn't learn a technique, he would learn a small tad bit about the village itself. The man stared down at the bodies for quite some time, as if he was studying their deaths, seeking their past and their reason of death. Damian realised that this was entirely untrue when he saw the man kneel before the body to the left, placing his hand upon the deads chest.

The dead man that he placed his hand upon stayed like that for a moment, his grayish skin not altogether decayed yet, though his mouth clamped tightly shut. The bones could be seen beyond the grayish skin, making it well known that the man was indeed dead. Damian wondered what the reasoning upon any of this was.

Damian's eyes bulged as the dead opened its chalklike eyes, blinking several times. His body began to become rejuvenated. The now alive man simply stared for a moment, regaining his balance as he stood, staring at the man who had revived him, ".....What can I do for you while you have me here master?" The zombie had called the person master, which ment that it indeed was a technique, though however long the zombie would stay alive was clueless to Damian. The technique would be highly useful though. He could raise an entire cemetary of anchient well known shinobi, just to raid a village or kill off an unwanted enemy.

Silently, Damian waited for them to leave. After they had departed the area, he walked over to the body closest to him, placing his hands upon the corpse as had the user of the technique. Within his minds eye he pictured the body coming to life, the corpse blinking as did the previous. The chakra flowed through his hands evenly, distributing into the body, its formula complete. The zombie leapt up, obviously stirred that he was alive once more, "...What may I do for you?"~

Rebirth 20 of 20 ( Gawd Damn..... )