Takira Gwyndolin Hekireki ll Strategist ll Doton :: Raiton ll Former Bandit Lord :: D-Rank Artillerist ll Jiton :: Ferromagnetic
❀Takira slowly stood up as the banana man backed away down into the cave, there roles now reversed as he cornered himself. Well not completely reversed, she was still on the back end of this encounter. It didn't take the savage long before he began shouting stupid things once again. She was dumbfounded as to how this one boy could even manage to breath with how loose his screws were. He had show great instinct in avoiding taking what amounted to a very hard rock to the shin. His combat skills were impressive but his thinking skills were severely lacking. Her brows furrowed in anger. It was as if the simpleton had ignored the entirety of her speech, a speech that the boy himself wanted. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. 'This is beginning to give me a headache. Everytime he makes this fun he has to go and open his ******** mouth.' She thought as her clouded with a burning fire. She took a deep breath to try to stop herself from snapping then and there. It wasn't working. "Are you ********' brain dead boy? Am I wasting my bloody breath tryin' ta talk to you? I just went on an entire monologue about love!" She snapped out, fingers tightening around the frame of her metal boot. It was as if she was using it as a stress ball. If the boy listened closely he would head the creak of metal being compressed and stretched under her magnetic field. With a long angry sigh she let go of her boot.
Instead of dropping to the ground like common sense would dictate the weaponized boot float out of her hand and orbit around her as she tore off the remains of her tank top, ripping it into strips. She wrapped up the hole in her foot using one the the strips before using the remaining straps to blot the blood off of her chest. It smeared slightly before she tossed the bloody rags to the side of the cave. She looked down at the coat laying on the cave floor wondering if she should use to to prevent the gash on her chest from bleeding more. However it wasn't bleeding enough to force her hand into tearing it up. She sighed wishing her cape was was around, it worked so nicely as a wrapping when her leg was split open. All the while the banana was waving his stick in the air doing something with the sound. With a flick of her finger the orbiting boot landed on the ground in front of her. She idly wondered if the cape was with her remaining metal bits as she slid her bandaged foot into her boot. She tapped the boots toes against the cave floor to test if the banged would shift too much. Stashed with her idea she extended her uninjured hand as her magnetic field began pulling at the metal behind her. Without and resistance her trusty katana floated into her hand, pale fingers gripping onto the hilt before striking the air in front of her. She was noticeably slower than when she was fighting the chimeras. Nothing too extreme but the whole poisoning business was getting really annoying.
She stared at the child as he continued to make himself less and less fun. The fires burning in her eyes slowly began to die down, as if the mere act of listen to him talk was killing her. He claimed that the bandit with an ego the size of a great nation had no love for herself. That someone who was constantly promoting how great she was didn't believe her own words. He was either too blind to notice or he chose not to run with the conversation threads she left handing out in the breeze. Even as he redacted his insult to her family she felt nothing. The fun was done. He had successfully made it so that she would take no pleasure in running him through, or painting the cave with his blood. Even as he taunted her by calling her weak it was like watching a young child calling her a stupid head. "You've done it. You made it so ya aren't even worth wasting the time ta kill. Yer constant incoherent logic is tiring to listen too. I'm surprised the wormbag lasted as long as he did trying to recruit someone so simple... so.... boring." She mentioned off hand as she wrapped her bruising fingers around the collar of her coat, throwing it over her shoulder as she shook her head. She didn't bother saying goodbye as she stepped off of the ledge, free falling towards the ground bellow.
The glint of metal confirmed that it wasn't just her boots and blade that the worm had left outside her range. She began pulling at the metal on her feet as she neared her destination, landing hard on the ground. Not the nice gentle landing she would normally preform. She misjudged the alloy and made the pull just a hair too weak to keep her in the air. The sound of metal cracking into the soil echoed around her. She gingerly rubbed her aching knees as she let the vibrations filter out of her bones. It didn't take long before her body retaliated, she cupped her mouth to fight back the urge to spray what remained in her stomach against the ground. Groaning in distaste she tossed her blade into the air, bending down and picking up her bright red cloak. She gently wrapped the fabric around her breasts and chest gash before tightening the fabric. With her wounds somewhat covered she began the task of gathering up all her spread out items. She took note of what a mess they were left in as she slid her arms into her black coat. "Tsk. That worm better not of taken anything." She grumbled, resting her headphones around her neck before she began taking stock of the items. Part of her wondered if the banana would be invading her space again, its not like she went far... just down a nice distance. The other part wondered why she bothered getting hyped up in the first place. He had already proven himself boring when she was tied up, was she just hoping beyond reason for some entertainment? She missed her bandit family... they were never boring. Chakra Pool:: [235 //275] Stamina Pool:: [225 //225]
Quote " You said you would become a martyr for your ideals. In life, you must have been a pure saint. A proud and noble figure, certainly. But who can truly admire the martyr’s thorny path? Who dreams of such an ending? A king… The king must be greedier than any other. He must laugh louder and rage harder. He must exemplify the extreme of all things, good and evil. That is why his retainers envy and adore him. And why the flames of aspiration, to be as the king is, can burn within his people. Proud king of chivalry… The righteousness and ideals you bore may indeed have saved your nation once. However, I’m certain you know what became of those who were saved, but left to themselves.” :: Iskandar Takira's ThemeNieR: Gestalt - Shadowlord
The differences in what the two of them believed love was. Takira saw him a fool and dense but Baranara could only see Takira's form of self love as not love but entitlement and delusions. Baranara did not know, the young girl of whom he seemed to have a constant shouting match with had already lived a long life, and as the old saying goes teaching an old dog new tricks, this case being her outlook on the world, was no easy feat if not bordering on impossible. Takira had chosen, she would remain the embodiment of fear itself, and with such a title the tanned man remained in a stupor of deep thought. His hand did not cease its centrifugal performance. Takira did not believe in being a Hero but it seemed she believed that for a Hero to even exist there must be villains and she was complacent in playing that roll. So be it.
Despite the injury of his ankle Baranra would produce a disgruntled exhale through his nostrils. It's true he was not word smith. He'd never win in a battle of words, and it seemed clear he would not win in a battle that showed mercy. In deeper thought as Takira was gathering her belongings now, before there would be no true winner. But with Takira insisting on being the avatar of fear there would need to be someone to stand up to that fear. It weighed heavy on his shoulders, but he knew full well to his commitment. He would take responsibility for Takira. He would take up the title, the title of being attempting to be the embodiment of Hope for the future with Oragor...and in a future destined for hope fear...was unnecessary.
A loud thump from above would resonate through the cave, one that would likely direct the attention of Takira below to above. There he was, the man who would now take his stand to become Takira's antithesis. In the golden hues of his eyes it was clear, pure content for her existence, though no anger. There would be no more words from his mouth as the spear which spun like a helicopters blades behind him ceased its rotation as it was pulled back in an instant. No doubts about it there would be no restraint in its throw. Fired like that of a siege ballista the time it would take to close the distance partnered with the Banana mans sudden descent would be no more than two seconds at most. Aimed directly to penetrate Takira's very center of her heart. This would likely leave Oragor bitter if the strike connected but as far as he knew there was no reason to keep the bandits heart in tact and to kill one's prey there would be no better point to strike. Should it miss or fully penetrate the girl the force behind it would make itself known as the spear destroying itself in the process would smash into the ground with such force the cave would shake a debris of whatever hard rock it collided with would scatter.
As soon as the throw was made there would be no hesitation in Baranara's next movement. His hands clapped together as from the side of the wall a thorn would begin to emerge, and then again his hands moved as a vine sprouted from the his nearest point. Like that of tarzan or other jungle man tropes swinging from this new vine to decelerate his decent to the thorn which would serve as his foothold which by the time he would reach it would be fully grown, here is where he would land. Hand firmly placed on the second of his former three spears, he would wait for the dust to clear, as he would look down upon Takira when it did, in of itself this would be the insult to her person. Not words. The Banana man implying as though he were better than her, and in a sense, in these moments, Takira was no longer a person, she was untamed wild game.
Spiral Shot: B : {No Back Step = No Rank Superiority}, {Complex} Vengeant Thorn: D Sudden Growth: D Total Chakra: -20 Total Stamina: -10 In Combat Regen: +5,5
Power →☆☆☆☆ [4.5] {+1 Style} Agility →☆☆☆ [3.5] Intelligence →☆☆ [2] Chakra →☆☆☆☆☆ [5] {Ninjutsu Gains .5 Modifier In Speed or Strength} {+1 Nin Slot} {+15 Chakra}
• Turgid Foliage| Plants become a lot sturdier in Baranara's possession, the reason is unknown to him. The use of large leafs may be substituted for fans for determining offensive capabilities and stalks of bamboo can fill in as a pole arms or staffs. A large leafs durability is treated as [10] while a shaft is treated as [20]. • I Do Plant Good | Plant related techniques or techniques that utilize a plants in combat have their costs reduced a stage. In exchange any techniques that do not utilize plant life have their costs increased a stage.
Spiral Field: B : Complex : -10 Chakra, -10 Stamina
Details: Character: Baranara Nanabara Talent Name: Spiral Field / Spiral Shot Rank: [X/D] Association: Soldier Duration // Upkeep: Base Per Turn of Sustain, May gradually increase and decrease as needed Element: Complex Requirement(s): Polearm Description: With deft hands and skill a pole arm is spun in one hand as one would a baton. This mimics the effects of a circular saw and produces a pseudo-shield all whilst building momentum similarly one can see it as a fan drawing in air around it. The second part of the technique allows for the user to then switch from spinning using the built momentum to throw it with increased penetrative force, room for a backstep is required to do so. Whilst spinning deflects oncoming projectiles of equivalent rank, causes a [lock] to happen when clashing with a weapon preventing further spinning regardless of the attacking techniques rank being inferior. A throw requires one post of uninterrupted wind up in which when thrown is treated as a rank-higher in strength and speed.
【C U R S E D⦁B E G O T T E N⦁M A N I P U L A T O R】xxxxx◢ H e s r i k U r u k s a b r i l ◣xxxxx【M I Z U K A G E⦁S A G E⦁H A R V E S T E R 】
tabSilence was golden, the old sayings whispered, though if it were true the fighting that was taking place behind him most definitely fell somewhere in between bronze and s**t in spectrum. The screaming, the fighting, the clang of strikes and screams of fury, all of it carried to the edge of the pit upon where the future Mizukage rested, eyes closed in meditation. Their cries awoke the parasites within him enough that Hesrik was forced to repress them once again, yet with defenses in place there was no fear of the imbecile and the savage harming nor bothering him as he considered the actions most needed to take from this point forward. tab Once more Hesrik's thoughts turned to the future while taking in the flaws of his past, where he had ruled over the entire land of water with a fist that could not be broken nor swayed. Those days were gone as surely as were the hearts he'd once stored, and likely for the same reason: the Plague. The Taking, as many called it in the southern areas of the world, had spread like wildfire during his rule to many of the islands and their inhabitants it what felt like a rather aggressive maneuver from a child. That specific people were targeted had shown there had been thought and meticulousness behind the choices made, and given their current predicament there was nothing that assuaged that particular belief in the slightest. Much had been lost thanks to that damnable curse, and with a silent scowl he turned his eyes to tattooed bands around his right hand's fingers' bases, each a study of tribalistic and ritualistic masterpieces, they had once served collectively as the Sigil that had allowed him absolute control of Kirigakure no Sato and all its possibilities. The defenses, the strengths, the control they had allowed him had been immense indeed, and of all his losses it was this he felt most keenly. tab Sighing quietly, the ancient monstrosity turned part of his attention back to the fight at his back, though only enough for his other eyes to continue paying attention lest they make a move his direction. 'Such pretty words,'came the sardonic thought at his words of love and cherishment. 'Such words lose meaning when the target simply can't grasp the concept.' That the Bloodied Iron acted as she did spoke volumes of her character, the least of which was her stark, raving insanity and delusions of grandeur. That she viewed herself in such regards was admirable on many fundamental levels, but a semblance of reality would have tempered her into a weapon far deadlier than she had ever been. For decades she'd raided Kirigakure no Sato's ally, the Cloud Village, and all of its territories, as had she reached across the border to Kiri's borders on several occasions. Such attacks had been surgical, precise, and destructive in more than one way, with the cruelty in her actions leaving many who had not wanted to face her down. It had taken the absolute destruction of one of her raid parties before she'd backed off of the Land of Water, though it could also have been the slew of eviscerated corpses lacking a particular organ that had been laid about their forward outpost's hearth. It was truly difficult to determine the truth of that matter. tab Shaking his head mentally at the memory it was sudden and fierce that the parasite, Honyo'rish, screamed for his attention as Baranara stepped to the edge of the pit where not a few moments before Takira had descended into and brandished a spear. The way he heaved, the power within those muscles as they coiled like a spring, it set off warning bells within every fiber of his being. There was no mistaking the impassioned way he readied himself and threw that spear: he was aiming to kill her, and kill her well. The rage within him was not something felt by Hesrik himself, but by the parasites within that had been promised blood, and hearts! If Baranara killed her there would be no knowing just what would happen, and it was this that sprung him into action. Opening the palm of his hand much like a zipper and splitting the skin there to open into the recesses of his tendrils internals Hesrik spouted a single phrase, "Rigalta hes'run vikra spira'koa!", and unleashed the golden webs that had been building within him. Erupting from his flesh at the same time the spear left Baranara's hand allowed for some chance of success as the golden threads shot at an angle, aiming to strike the spear just as it was about to strike that pawn of his and to smash it against the wall nearby. Even as he fired it and it stretched out, Hesrik hissed loudly and spoke with venom at the savage's nearby form. "You foolish barbarian," he began, his tone saying far more about his disapproval than his words themselves could do credit. "You wished to save her! You have failed, and by your own words are you snared! Leave her be!" tab Releasing the strings from his hand his expression, the little of what could be seen, relaxed as he stared down to watch the finality of their actions, but not before continuing in a much calmer, certain tone. "There are people watching us, Baranara. You mustn't give the impression that disapproval is met with a censoring of one's life. Let her leave, or she may well undue all we are hoping for." tab
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ❝ With power, there is always a price. ❞
Techniques Used: ✤
Current Objectives: ✤ Teach the young bloodied iron that this world is no longer her's.
Items of Note: ✤ Techniques Learned: None
magcookie
NecroPlant
[ e x p ] 0000 x|x [ r y o ] 0000 x|x [ c h a k r a ] 450 / 450 x|x [ s t a m i n a ] 125 / 125
[ m o o d ] Bemused x|x [ h e a l t h ] Weakened x|x [ i n j u r i e s ] None x|x [ c o n t r o l ] Established
Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 7:49 pm
Takira Gwyndolin Hekireki ll Strategist ll Doton :: Raiton ll Former Bandit Lord :: D-Rank Artillerist ll Jiton :: Ferromagnetic
❀Takira's weapons and metallic tools floated around her body, to be exact a large worn and rusty tower shield now covered her back, even if the spear was launched the shield would give her enough time to dodge a fatal wound. She was slightly miffed that her possessions were all accounted for. Sure it was a nice to know everything she earned was still hers but at the same time it meant that the worm either had no sense of value or that he thought her goods weren't worth taking. With a scowl she finished getting her gear back on her person. Term tinkerer came back to the forefront of her mind, that little old invasive voice that came to her when she found her control 'rod.' Was this fate once again messing with her? Was it deciding she wasn't fighting back against it hard enough so it pitied her? It kept nagging her with the idea of mechanical constructs. Telling her that she still hand't reached her goal. This very VERY dragged out side quest she had been forced into was over, she needed to return to the only glimmer of ambition that sparked in her. Her brows furrowed as she pushed away the memories and knowledge that didn't belong to her. She knew where she needed to go, or at least the general direction. Towards the world tree. She looked onto the horizon only to spot the large bleached skull she originally got drawn into the pit for. 'Well if the worm bag didn't sweep my iron flakes over here he must have just left it behind where I passed out.' She mused as her chakra began pulling at the metal on her feet. she began floating back into the air the more force began pulling past gravitates resistance.
She titled forward in the air as she tightened one of her hands into a fist. A surge of power set the alloy metal towards her core. Her muscles were all that kept her from doing cartwheels in place. She flew forward from the caves basin back over the black tar like material that pooled on the ground of the pit. Her weakened body was starting onto its recovery from the whole poison incident. She could feel her muscles getting their strength back but it wasn't as if this was going to be a fast process... if her jelly legs meant anything. Her right leg had gave way to the force of her pulling almost sending her into a nose dive. Lessening the magnetic pull gave her muscles a little rest as she soldiered on towards her goal. It wasn't long before the field began reaction to a familiar iron. Innumerable little metal flakes began pinging off her field like a radar detecting movement. A grin formed on her lips as she entered the bare minimum range. Like a swarm of locus the air in front of her was blotted out in gray. In seconds she was swallowed by a grayish black ball of loose metal. Fire began burning in her eyes as she let the weary scent of blood soaked iron fill her nostrils. It was the type of scent that reminded you of home. Like walking in on a stew being cook over the fire. A wild grin filled the bandits lips as the shell turned into a large cloud behind her body as she landed onto the bleached bones. "Whews gonna need a rest after all that movement... I still don't got my touch back." She said with furrowed brows, releasing her clenched fist only to rain iron down around her body. Read to be used at a moments notice if she was followed.
[[ooc: peace out bitches]] Chakra Pool:: [235 //275] Stamina Pool:: [225 //225]
Quote " You said you would become a martyr for your ideals. In life, you must have been a pure saint. A proud and noble figure, certainly. But who can truly admire the martyr’s thorny path? Who dreams of such an ending? A king… The king must be greedier than any other. He must laugh louder and rage harder. He must exemplify the extreme of all things, good and evil. That is why his retainers envy and adore him. And why the flames of aspiration, to be as the king is, can burn within his people. Proud king of chivalry… The righteousness and ideals you bore may indeed have saved your nation once. However, I’m certain you know what became of those who were saved, but left to themselves.” :: Iskandar Takira's ThemeNieR: Gestalt - Shadowlord
tab For what seemed like eternity, but at the same time no time at all, you floated in darkness. You can vaguely recall yourself, who you were, and what you were, as if a voice had guided you along that path to remembrance, but the voice itself faded away like it had never existed to begin with. All is at peace, at rest in the comforting embrace of the abyss, until a crack splits the air, resounding in the nothingness. With it came light and humidity as it slowly spider-webbed outward. Then it shattered altogether and you were released from your prison, where you fell to the damp earth, strength not immediately returning to your limbs. This weakness would only last a brief moment before you were filled with energy that could have kept you going for what felt like days, fulling rested and at your prime. tab With a clatter you fall forward, though whether you catch yourself is entirely up to your limited capabilities. Crystal sprays outwards where you erupt from the earthen wall into a cave of some sort where a fire blazes in a hearth and around which rests several boxes, structures, and even a...scythe? Odd, and given the warmth, perhaps the fire had been here some time. How will you proceed, with the scent of earth and cooking fire the greatest senses touched by your entrance?
The spear collided with the wall as intended, intervention was not anticipated. The thumping sounds of deafening beats that resonated hymns of old cries to war and bountiful hunts ceased. His eyes faded from its intensive glare to closing and then spitting on the ground to his right as the cavern shook from the spears impact. There would have been no doubt, the intent to kill Takira was all there. To have her escape, what Baranara now branded nothing but an envoy of destruction whom could only be a tyrant beyond salvation. It sat in his chest like a disgusting lump of disdain. Like moldy Banana's.
Hesrick would scold him, if boiled down to 'setting an example' in the tribesman's head. He sought to do that now, by ridding the world of the evil contained in such a small package. An evil he was certain could not be swayed under the guise of freedom. He failed today, but this would not be the end. Takira was marked by the man, he'd have followed if he were no certain Hesrick would likely intervene again. The sound of something shattering resonated in the distance. A familiar sound. He would grit his teeth.
In a calculated but primitive manner Baranara would place the large leaf he had upon his back on the floor, now with only but one spear but the capability to make more, with a handsign and focus as if a slow climbing elevator he would begin to rise until his platform landed to touch ground. He would match eyes with Hesrick for the moment. No words said between the two as he gathered the leaf of which he stood on. He merely sat akin to a child who had not gotten his way as he conjured fibrous vegetation in which he would use to wrap his now throbbing ankle. With the high from his endorphins gone now there was only pain. He wondered if Takira felt the same, and if she would be enjoying the possible scars he'd have maybe left her.
"What now." he would say plainly, as he opened his satchel to find something in it that was not there before to his knowledge, or rather it was always there but well hidden. The family amulet. He'd assumed all the jewelry he had became ash but this was different it seemed. It removal caused a fierce wave of Banana scent to fill the area. Like a strong perfume. Well now we could determine a source. Baranara would place it upon his neck, a tribute to ancestors...and as difficult as it was to seem possible he smelled even more like bananas than ever. The dirt caked on his body having almost gotten rid of the scent entirely until now. It was as though he were refreshed with fruity virility. The red stone in its center would glow for the moment. Before Baranara slowly stood once more likely in tandem with whatever answer Hesrick had for him. But to say he was completely over what had just happened moments ago, would be a lie as there was an underlying air of bitterness.
Power →☆☆☆☆ [4.5] {+1 Style} Agility →☆☆☆ [3.5] Intelligence →☆☆ [2] Chakra →☆☆☆☆☆ [5] {Ninjutsu Gains .5 Modifier In Speed or Strength} {+1 Nin Slot} {+15 Chakra}
• Turgid Foliage| Plants become a lot sturdier in Baranara's possession, the reason is unknown to him. The use of large leafs may be substituted for fans for determining offensive capabilities and stalks of bamboo can fill in as a pole arms or staffs. A large leafs durability is treated as [10] while a shaft is treated as [20]. • I Do Plant Good | Plant related techniques or techniques that utilize a plants in combat have their costs reduced a stage. In exchange any techniques that do not utilize plant life have their costs increased a stage.
Spiral Field: B : Complex : -10 Chakra, -10 Stamina
Details: Character: Baranara Nanabara Talent Name: Spiral Field / Spiral Shot Rank: [X/D] Association: Soldier Duration // Upkeep: Base Per Turn of Sustain, May gradually increase and decrease as needed Element: Complex Requirement(s): Polearm Description: With deft hands and skill a pole arm is spun in one hand as one would a baton. This mimics the effects of a circular saw and produces a pseudo-shield all whilst building momentum similarly one can see it as a fan drawing in air around it. The second part of the technique allows for the user to then switch from spinning using the built momentum to throw it with increased penetrative force, room for a backstep is required to do so. Whilst spinning deflects oncoming projectiles of equivalent rank, causes a [lock] to happen when clashing with a weapon preventing further spinning regardless of the attacking techniques rank being inferior. A throw requires one post of uninterrupted wind up in which when thrown is treated as a rank-higher in strength and speed.
In The Beginning, there was nothing. The emptiness of unbirth. Then, a voice. It questioned, prodded him into being. Arms, legs, mouth, face. The Beginning was not The Beginning after all, only his beginning. When the voice had finished its inquisition, Ryslatho could feel himself. Time was meaningless here. Perhaps it was many decades or perhaps it was mere seconds later when a crack split his world and he felt himself fall forward into the rent.
Thrown into a world of sensation again, he fell onto his knees, feeling the earth beneath him. A horrid retching noise cleared his throat in his a dry heave. His instincts had reached out, Aburame that he was, to find.... death. Nothing resided in him, no hives of kikaichu buzzing along. It was like waking up in an ice bath missing an arm and a kidney. The motion dislodged dust, dried bits of carapaces, and dead eggs from the pores of his body, falling to the ground like soft rains.
Taking a moment to come to terms, a strange energy flooded Ryslatho. Life itself. What an introduction to this world, filled with death then filled with life. He barely even had any time to think about the entirety of his situation. That would need to wait. Ryslatho quickly did a pat down of himself. Everything still appeared to be in place. The insects must have died out from lack of chakra, then, as his weapons and supplies were all where he last remembered them before the nothinginess.
Looking him, he scanned his surroundings. A cave with a cooking fire. He jumped at the realization that he was likely not alone. Strange structures, boxes, and a wicked looking weapon. The sudden shock that he was very much not alone. An overwhelming smell of banana filled the area. Ryslatho felt helpless, jumpy as a cornered rat. His hands were in a halfway state between jumping for his weapons or forming the Tiger Seal and leaving, his history of hiding blaring the beacon of his one technique bright in his mind. It was his curiosity that kept him here where all his instincts were on edge.
Man, he hated dealing with people. "Ah, ahem." He coughed, pathetically drawing attention to himself if he hadn't already. "What is.... please explain?"
NecroPlant
Lanfaer
Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2018 1:00 pm
⦉Power gives freedom from control and the pen of destiny to the author.⦊ ❝Power begets freedom, and I shall be the freest of them all.❞
【C U R S E D⦁B E G O T T E N⦁M A N I P U L A T O R】xxxxx◢ H e s r i k U r u k s a b r i l ◣xxxxx【M I Z U K A G E⦁S A G E⦁H A R V E S T E R 】
tabAnd so it was that the Bloodied Iron fled those behind her, eyes forever forward and towards her next consequence. How foolish she looked, but how dangerous the possibilities now. Hesrik was not blind to what it meant to stop her death here, as Baranara so gallantly chose to reveal through his brief gaze before moving on. Death would have cleared a path between his goals and her's, making the pathway to a victory that much easier to attain, and yet he felt that, nonetheless, it had been the smarter choice. There would be a time for them to discuss it but now was not that time, not with the movement of trees around their great hole, nor the sound of more crystal breaking from within the gave they'd claimed as their refuge. The magic he had pressed into the land was doing its trick as a beacon for the newly awoken to gather, that much was certain, and it brought a sense of excitement to his dessicated flesh. But it was that same knowledge that prevented him from setting the record straight with Baranara, at least for the moment. tab Why did he care? tab The question came to him suddenly though it was far from unwarranted. Why should he care what the savage thought? Why had he cared before, trying to fight for the warrior's heart when claiming the organ for himself would have served a greater purpose? Perhaps it was the new world, the lack of resources that gave him pause in tossing aside a potential spawn. It clearly wasn't the scent of ripe produce that surrounded him. No, it most especially wasn't that, since his parasites recoiled at the immense stench. Perhaps it had something to do with the realist within him that recognized survival in this new world meant using every pawn to its most before tossing it aside. If that was the case than Baranara had earned his life for the moment, that much was certain. tab Turning from the horror show that had been the last hour or so Hesrik instead looked towards the cave where a new face stepped forth, one he didn't recognize. This was a good thing of course, for knowledge meant a chance at the truth being exposed too early. Eyes moving over the figure the former Mizukage considered how best to approach the situation and to answer the question that had been so quickly posed. A demand for explanation meant the boy knew nothing of his capture and imprisonment within the chrysalis that all had fallen into. Given the dust that fell from his flesh and clothes he had woken within the earth and had unburied himself in some fashion, which meant he might well not be in the best of mental states. That he coughed before approaching showed either tact or no control of his bodily functions, the latter of which showed a lack of discipline if nothing else. It was curious, but he felt the boy held promise at least from the look of him. tab One hand to his chest pressed against the brass of his breastplate above where his heart was meant to be Hesrik bowed from the waist while keeping his milky white eyes on the boy's face. Would he see the older decrepit body of his to be the weakened form that it was or assume age, he wondered. In his time many often assumed one or the other, and each helped to define what to expect of their mentality in that moment. Once he was erect once more the reborn shinobi held out his hand and gestured around them. "Welcome to the new world, my good fellow," he began, his tone jovial, voice a whisper pitched to demand silence to listen to properly. "I am Oragor. Who might you be?"
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ❝ With power, there is always a price. ❞
Techniques Used: ✤
Current Objectives: ✤ Teach the young bloodied iron that this world is no longer her's.
Items of Note: ✤ Techniques Learned: None
magcookie
NecroPlant
[ e x p ] 0000 x|x [ r y o ] 0000 x|x [ c h a k r a ] 450 / 450 x|x [ s t a m i n a ] 125 / 125
[ m o o d ] Bemused x|x [ h e a l t h ] Weakened x|x [ i n j u r i e s ] None x|x [ c o n t r o l ] Established
Takira Gwyndolin Hekireki ll Strategist ll Doton :: Raiton ll Former Bandit Lord :: D-Rank Artillerist ll Jiton :: Ferromagnetic
❀Takira took the moment of solitude to stretch out her aching limbs. Step one in conquering a new world is always making sure your limbs are limber after all! Plus having being suspended in mid air by tight a** threads all day tends to make the body sore. She stretched her arms out wide as droplets of water from the ill fated weather began raining down across her face. Her furrowed brows only deepened as her hands twisted in place before closing into fists. The iron around her levitated just off before dropping back down as she released her fists. 'This isn't such a bad thing, reminds me of home. Only its a little too warm still.' She thought idly as she embraced the coming storm. A small gust of wind pierced through her remaining clothes like they were nothing, this rather than making her scowl instead had the effect of calming her burning nerves. She let her self get caught up in the feeling of nostalgia these subtle weather patterns elicited in her chest. "I should find my way back to Lightning. It must be in terrible shape without its conqueror..." She mused with a wicked smirk. She began charging the air around her with her magnetic field, lifting each small flake of iron into the air before forcing her alloy boots into the air. Being robbed of her motor functions and having almost no memory of her techniques she earned through years of warmongering she couldn't help but feel like it was time to do some training. She couldn't have some upstart preaching justice make her get bored with a fight again. She needed her skills to ended it before it drug out that long. She short forward into the air while her fingers twisted and contorted to delicately balance the pull at her feet without dropping her iron all over the world.
Her control continued to waver even as the drug started to wear off further. Her crimsons eyes stared into the gray clouds ahead as she scaled the far side of the canyon by cheating her way out of doing physical labor. Climbing was for plebeians after all. She winched in pain, almost crashing into the cliff side as water soaked through her faux bindings onto her sore chest wounds. She scowled while powering through the pain, there was more important things to focus on instead of her burning and very irritated hole in her foot. Such as the large jutting rock she was flying directly into while being distracted with the previous things still. Her eyes widened as she let go of her right hands control allowing her body to swerve to the right and avid the large rock before contorting her fingers once more to continue her upwards momentum. "I miss my boots. Damn brat had to get its spit up all over em. Shoulda disciplined those kids a lil harder. Caving in its forehead wasn't enough." She said thinking back to her emergence and the swarm of chimeras she helped create in her lust for bloodshed against the mound of plant flesh. A flash of regret flew through her mind over the loss of her prospective minion Chloe. 'Kid had a fire in 'er.' She thought as her body finally touched down on the rim of the canyon. Steel boots clanked against the hard ground as her pulls intensity lowered. Her aching foot was grateful for the loss of intense pressure against it... even as she continued to walk on it as if nothing was wrong. She never once looked back on the pair goons she had the displeasure of sharing the day with.
The girl walked slowly towards the tree line, her hand lazily held out as iron was just drug against the ground like she couldn't be bothered. She was at no risk of having been followed. Neither the banana or the bag of worms had the potential to cross such a vast distance with little effort, to her knowledge at least. Her lazed hand finally let of its control once she stepped into the forested boundary. The iron pilled out behind her like ash after an explosion. She took a deep breath now that possible eyes were off of her. Her face crumpled into anger as she untied her beloved red cloak from her chest before ripping the useless rag acting as a bandage off her chest. She stomped the bloodied mark of shame into the muddy ground, letting the feeling of being so weak wash off her body. She dropped her her bag of goodies against a nearby tree, as well as folding her cloak into neat square and placing it on top the bag. With a flick of her wrist the iron behind her was forced up against the tree in an orderly pile. The chilled air blowing against her bared chest wound helped ease the burning emanating. In a smooth motion she drew her aged katana from its sheath. 'I wonder where they hid away my trusted blade at? Why was one of my back ups on me when I woke up?' She thought off hand as her mind began reeling back through her muddled memories in search of her training while she stabbed the blade into the ground. The image of her father figure beating the ways of the fighting into her weak body in his free time flooded from behind the thick fog. Her mind letting those bittersweet memories take over.
"Lets continue with that counter Cub, you'll need one turn the tables of a fight. As such a scrawny little cub you specifically will need it more," her towering leader taunted crossing his arms as he waited for her to prepare, "Do it correctly or no dinner for you." The small girl squinted her eyes in retaliation. She knew he wasn't bluffing. It wouldn't be the first time she had to miss out on eating because she couldn't hold her own. The bandit leader love to drill in his moto of: If you don't work you don' eat. Her eyes squinted in anger a she took a single step back from the bear of man. She slid one of her feet back slightly bending it at the knee while she extended her hands outwards. With a flick of her small hand she taunted him at her. The man accepted her being ready by throwing a wide right hook down at her, clearly not taking it seriously by the fact it was moving so slow. She took it as an offense as she redirected the attack with ease. Her callused hands pressing his fist down and away from her side. The bear grinned and as he took her success with his baby hit and decided to take it up a notch. His next strike was something she was more familiar with. The way his fist came at her it was like watching a boulder rolling down at you. Her breath hitched in the moment as the pressure of an unstoppable object was inbound for her face. A type of fear took hold of her as if to tell her she needed to stop the attack or she risked something bad happening. Her eyes widened as her extended hands did their best to wrap around the first, one above and the other bellow as she forcefully redirected the motion so it wouldn't crack her face. The pressure of the fist going right next to her head felt like a gust of wind attempting to knock her down. "Good Cub, good. I might have to use my full strength at some point." He said with a familiar wicked grin. The girl instead of reviling in her success she instead reeled back and began shaking her hands in pain. It was like slapping a rock. That man was all muscle. [1/1][Pi Qua Quan style: Pi, X Ranked remembered!]
Chakra Pool:: [275 //275] Stamina Pool:: [225 //225]
Quote " You said you would become a martyr for your ideals. In life, you must have been a pure saint. A proud and noble figure, certainly. But who can truly admire the martyr’s thorny path? Who dreams of such an ending? A king… The king must be greedier than any other. He must laugh louder and rage harder. He must exemplify the extreme of all things, good and evil. That is why his retainers envy and adore him. And why the flames of aspiration, to be as the king is, can burn within his people. Proud king of chivalry… The righteousness and ideals you bore may indeed have saved your nation once. However, I’m certain you know what became of those who were saved, but left to themselves.” :: Iskandar Takira's ThemeNieR: Gestalt - Shadowlord
Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2018 5:28 pm
Ryslatho was greeted by an old man with milky white eyes. His first instinct was to wonder if he was blind, but there did exist people who's irises had no color. There was something unnerving about the gaze. The affable tone taken by Oragor helped cut his nerves. He started piecing together his situation, understanding rising like the tide. The crystal disease that had been spreading must have caught up to him as well. How? He had meticulously avoided contact with people ever since his parents were taken away. There must have been some part of it he did not understand. Ryslatho had no understanding of his Era or a proper one of the time that passed.
The New World. Something about those words sent a shiver through his body. "I am Ryslatho [ Rih SLA tho ]. The new world... What kind of world is it now?" He replied and sought more information. His eyes looked around for an exit from the location. He was anxious to see if he could find any insects to host. His eyes would wander back over to Oragor to await the dessicated man's response.
"Qashin. Garbage." The savage man would make his presence known. His face towards the direction of which Takira fled. There was a duality to his words, perhaps what he thought of Takira but in truth it was an answer to the newly awakened Ryslatho's question of what kind of world the world had become. Baranara only turned his head to the side momentarily signifying that the comment was indeed his opinion directed towards the newcomer before turning his head back. His ankle ached. But it was not as though it wasn't a wound that could heal in time. Unlike the wound he'd left with the Bandit. It would certainly take more than simple wrappings to fill a gaping hole in ones foot.
Baranara would leave the newcomer to Oragor. As with holding a hand sign and several deep inhales and exhales several leaves of the trees began to separate from their respective branches causing a stir perhaps to anything that may have inhabited them. They would then begin dancing to the will of the man. If anything it was a simple state of practice. Baranara trying to develop a firmer control of techniques he had otherwise forgotten. The wood of these trees. Had he the knowledge he bend them to, to his will. But his tribe left such knowledge behind.
Whence Oragor would finish whatever he had to say to the newcomer would be the time in which he would interject. "You still no answer Baranara. What now. You say people watching to stop me but now what do. There no homes for people, there no food for people, there only cave and hole. We ask people do things, we better do now, depending if people even want to do thing to begin with." Baranara licked his lips to collect a bit of smeared dirt only to spit it on the ground next to him.
Power →☆☆☆☆ [4.5] {+1 Style} Agility →☆☆☆ [3.5] Intelligence →☆☆ [2] Chakra →☆☆☆☆☆ [5] {Ninjutsu Gains .5 Modifier In Speed or Strength} {+1 Nin Slot} {+15 Chakra}
• Turgid Foliage| Plants become a lot sturdier in Baranara's possession, the reason is unknown to him. The use of large leafs may be substituted for fans for determining offensive capabilities and stalks of bamboo can fill in as a pole arms or staffs. A large leafs durability is treated as [10] while a shaft is treated as [20]. • I Do Plant Good | Plant related techniques or techniques that utilize a plants in combat have their costs reduced a stage. In exchange any techniques that do not utilize plant life have their costs increased a stage.
Lanfaer
magcookie
ZephyrsBlade
Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2018 8:21 pm
⦉Power gives freedom from control and the pen of destiny to the author.⦊ ❝Power begets freedom, and I shall be the freest of them all.❞
【C U R S E D⦁B E G O T T E N⦁M A N I P U L A T O R】xxxxx◢ H e s r i k U r u k s a b r i l ◣xxxxx【M I Z U K A G E⦁S A G E⦁H A R V E S T E R 】
tabA fair question to leave the boy's lips so quickly. One that was just as hastily answered by Baranara, who, from his tone, was quite cross with him for stopping the attempted murder of the Bloodied Iron. While death would have been the easier response there was more to do with a person of her ilk than to bring her to the Echoe so early on. Still that would need to be explained to the savage, for that was the lot Hesrik had decided to cast in with in attempting to free the boy from the child's control. Instead of arguing it right then he decided to play along, to portray the best light to the new arrival even as he saw, and felt, the arrival of others. Their fear was a call to his parasites, enough that they whispered of the feast that was likely to come despite Hesrik's wishes. Good they they still followed and recognized his authority, then. Even as the trees around the enormous trench began to fill with people the genin chuckled at Baranara's words and shook his head, his expression still hidden behind his lower mask. "Not garbage," he began, his tone one of calm assertion and placation versus ridicule. "Just...savage. This world, if I could hazard a guess, has seen several hundred years of change, if not thousands. It is a world that I feel doesn't recognize us, for, from the look of these trees, I can tell this is Mizu no Kuni, and I know this pit didn't exist then." tab Weighing the options Hesrik turned and gestured with one arm towards the pit, and towards those that were even now breaching the tree line to reveal themselves. Children. Children all. Ranging from younger than a teenager to what he'd assume was sixteen years of age, given the reports he had received on the curse that afflicted his old world. Many looked cautious, afraid, and uncertain, and it was to these and the others that he spoke. Raising his voice the future Mizukage continued. "You ask what now, Baranara? I ask the same of others who gather here. This world is a place of chaos, with new rules we know nothing about. We have already witnessed that the world will fill with people both innocent and stained with sin, those looking for a new start and those looking to quash all but their view beneath their heel. To defend against that we need resources, and resources are easier gathered in a group than alone." Turning to look at Baranara he tilted his head slightly to the side, a non-verbal request of understanding. Did he understand that this wouldn't be easy? Yes. But did Baranara believe it could be done? That was the key. tab Turning away from the pit he stalked his way towards the cave entrance, turning at its side and counting off thirty paces towards where he had met and slain the first inhabitant of this new world he had met. There lay the wall he had created to snap the creature's neck, though it was small. Looking at it carefully Hesrik held out his gauntletted hand over its top edge, almost as if he felt something. Perhaps he did, but in this case he was considering the amount of chakra he would need for the task. Speaking loudly without turning to look at the pair behind him he continued. "We have no homes, not yet, but that is where we begin utilizing our resources, Baranara. The people who come here will want to have homes, and that, for the moment, I can supply." tab Fingers splayed, pale eyes focused in concentration, the old man began to chant in a low volume before it began to rise, forming ancient words of eldritch lore. As he did the stone began to rise beneath his palm, rising higher until he was forced to step back to allow for the space necessary. He continued speaking, his tone becoming grim as the work began to take its toll. The ground quaked as stone rose further, until it was ten feet, fifteen feet tall. It stopped growing but the ground did not stop to quake as another wall, thirty feet out, began to rise, and to its side, another. Walls rose of grown stone, closing off at the top in domed stone, with a single entrance for a door, and two windows to a side for light and a chimney for air. It left a building thirty feet by thirty feet in area made entirely of stone before, at last, Hesrik stepped back and struggled to ensure he didn't stumble. The sheer amount of chakra he had used was difficult, and painful, but he knew it was necessary. Thankfully he didn't sweat anymore, so the more commonly known signs of exhaustion wouldn't be present as he turned to look at Baranara and their new ally. tab "I can grow buildings for safety, but that will only be a temporary fix if we grow larger. We each have a part to play. You know better than I how to survive in a world without civilization. Speak to the survivors, learn their strengths, their weaknesses. Let us work together to create a home in a world that may well be out to put us back in the dead book." tab here he watched the pair, considering their responses, their expressions. What would they say to his actions, or his words?
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ❝ With power, there is always a price. ❞
Techniques Used: ✤ Wall Technique → B - rank. Will get name later. Used multiple times.
Current Objectives: ✤ Teach the young bloodied iron that this world is no longer her's.
Items of Note: ✤ Techniques Learned: None
magcookie
NecroPlant
[ e x p ] 0000 x|x [ r y o ] 0000 x|x [ c h a k r a ] 450 / 450 x|x [ s t a m i n a ] 125 / 125
[ m o o d ] Bemused x|x [ h e a l t h ] Weakened x|x [ i n j u r i e s ] None x|x [ c o n t r o l ] Established
Both Baranara and Oragor's take on the world had given him much thought. There was something about Baranara that was quietly drawing Ryslatho towards him. Perhaps it was the unpolished way of speaking or maybe it was the phantom pain of his deceased host hive to seek out such a delicious, banana-flavored chakra. The old man, on the other hand, continued to unsettle Ryslatho. He first had to contemplate this garbage, savage world. A chaotic new world where they were the invasive species. This was a matter of survival and adaptation, then. Oragor's words made sense, yet the general lay of the man made him bristle. Perhaps it was the speech. Informative as it was, it was the most words Ryslatho had heard in a very long time. Excluding his time stuck in a crystal of course. Then, there was the disturbing chanting. Of course he was no stranger to ninjas and their powers, but the creation of a large dwelling out of the quaking ground left him wide-eyed.
Baranara had begun a dance with the tree leaves nearby. There was power these two possessed that Ryslatho did not and that made him aware of his own lack of power. Especially without the information and guidance of his bugs. That would be his priority, his way of providing value. He felt ambivalence about the idea of creating a community but there was safety to be had in a pack, even among the lowest member. Yes, it was an agreeable arrangement then. He nodded his agreement to Oragor then. "Okay... Let us do so. First, I need to see this world."
Reaching into his shirt sleeve, Ryslatho dug around for a bit. A few times he took his hands out in dissatisfaction until.... aha! There! A relatively whole specimen of a kikaichu. He would first approach Baranara, then reluctantly Oragor, with it extended in his hand. "Have you seen these? Or ones similar? Where, mostly?" He was planning on heading out to find them.
Baranara merely frowned in response to Oragor's words. Even someone as dense as him had to come to terms sometime. The bitterness of letting the selfish EVIL that was Takira free was slowly leaving but the welling in his chest the welling of a grudge primitive in nature was beginning to coalesce. Hearing the ground shake Baranara would derail from his activities to give Oragor the time of day to look at him. Something he hadn't done until now despite the mans bravado. A crude but functional house was formed. The crudeness of it was something Baranara could care less about as where he had formerly hailed from advanced amenities like air conditioning, showers, and the lot were never needed. Suffice to say, the creation of the 'house' made Baranara chuckle.
His eyes would open momentarily to see that the newly awakened individual was waving a bug in his face before moving to Oragor. Though it was no arachnid or worse...bee. To say Baranara wasn't left a little surprised by the sudden interest in entomology would be somewhat of a lie. But then he came to a conclusion only he could. Scanning the ground he'd spot another beetle. While it wasn't of a kikai genus he'd bring it up to his face in a manner enough to garner the new bloods attention. "Good idea. Bug good in protein and easy to hunt." Suddenly the sound of a loud definitive crunch noise like taking a bite into a crispy tater rang through the air. As the screeeeee of an insect for a brief 0.06 seconds as it was bi-sected by bicuspids that only an Aburame could translate into a death cry. A now half eaten twitchy carcass in his left hand. Repercussion of eating strange foreign insects likely would come later.
Baranara with shell in his teeth then did an about face. What seemed like the final wave or at least close to the final wave of stragglers had just arrived. A firm stomp of his good foot and with the remnants of beetle shell in his teeth came both a intimidating but grossly humanizing speech flaring with a chieftan's aura. Something that simply couldn't be attained by raising one's voice. Suddenly a grab and a twirl of his bamboo spear with another firm planting of it in the ground. Twas like a declaration of land claimed bearing a rallying banner-esque type feel to it "You hear him! Me am Baranara Nanabara! You have option! You live! You die! No middle! That is world now! We help keep safe! You no want, then free to leave! You want safe then we work together to make safe! A safe here!" Pounding his chest a reassurance to the weak, Oragor's display of strength and his own earlier with the manipulation of leaves serving as demonstrations of their reliability in which they could consider trusting.
He'd then point to a group of individuals who seemed to know each other somewhat with his spear tip causing one of the group who was whispering to jump. "You! If you no can do for self! Do for friend! You want friend to die! Like or not..." Extending both his arms wide as though fit to embrace someone, the left overs of the the still half eaten beetle wriggling from its residual nerve signals. "WE ALL FAMILY NOW!" pointing to groups in no particular order. "Strong! Hunt game, get wood for more house! - Fast! Find plant or bug for eat! - Smart! Make plan, tell strong where put things! - Kind! Treat injure in new house! Help Smart! GOOD!"
With a toss in the air and another sound crunch signifying the rest of the earlier insects ingestion another firm pounding of the spear butt in the dirt. "Those who no want help! Free to leave! But WE MAKE SAFE PLACE TOGETHER!" A resonating jubilance filled the air, in this moment the grudge he had with Takira was gone, standing before the people a fool of a leader, but what he lacked in smarts he carried with him in heart, an aura of aspirations, a charisma that was known to influence groups, not unlike Takira but while hers came from fear, Baranara's came from hope. Baranara would give Oragor a nod. The more intricate machinations, they were something he'd have to handle. Baranara would then proceed to till the land. While he had yet to make it known he could begin the process of building a sustainable farmland.
Power →☆☆☆☆ [4.5] {+1 Style} Agility →☆☆☆ [3.5] Intelligence →☆☆ [2] Chakra →☆☆☆☆☆ [5] {Ninjutsu Gains .5 Modifier In Speed or Strength} {+1 Nin Slot} {+15 Chakra}
• Turgid Foliage| Plants become a lot sturdier in Baranara's possession, the reason is unknown to him. The use of large leafs may be substituted for fans for determining offensive capabilities and stalks of bamboo can fill in as a pole arms or staffs. A large leafs durability is treated as [10] while a shaft is treated as [20]. • I Do Plant Good | Plant related techniques or techniques that utilize a plants in combat have their costs reduced a stage. In exchange any techniques that do not utilize plant life have their costs increased a stage.
【C U R S E D⦁B E G O T T E N⦁M A N I P U L A T O R】xxxxx◢ H e s r i k U r u k s a b r i l ◣xxxxx【M I Z U K A G E⦁S A G E⦁H A R V E S T E R 】
tabWhen Baranara began to speak the heads of those who gathered turned to him, so mighty and impressive was his aura. His words ensnared them, ensorcelled them with every word he uttered. There was little they could do but watch as his words flowed, and at each gesture their eyes followed. Something about him begged to be listened to, to be followed, and it was to him they looked. It was easy to see to Hesrik, who had seen its ilk before: the natural power of a leader, and one similar in nature to that which Takira had possessed. Strange. Now that he thought about it, the former Mizukage realized then what he'd failed to recognize before: the natural, awe-inspired emotion was no genjutsu, but an aura, a supernatural ability. In the short time he'd known Baranara it became quite clear that manipulation and control were not his forte, nor would they ever be. Willingly. Consciously. It was these last two descriptions that made him realize that like Baranara it was clear Takira failed to recognize this natural ability she had. She believed in some warped ideal that others followed greatness, and it was obvious now as those who listened to the orders began to form up that this was exactly the sort of ability the savage utilized. tab Good. tab A tool to be used, of course. There was no chance of pretending that anyone listened to Hesrik because they thought him wise when he had been lord of this land. Pure, unadulterated fear kept all in line and under his heel, keeping peace instead of violence. It had been a peaceful, quiet life then, and it had come at the expense of their happiness. tabGood. tab It reminded the greying young man that in the end his plans had come to fruition, a village, only an Outpost, but the first step in the right direction. A gamble for Baranara's soul had turned out in his favor, with that natural ability to inspire something he could never utilize but which effortlessly imprinted camaraderie on the lesser minded. Lesser, of course, possibly including the newest male to join their league. And so Hesrik turned to look at Ryslatho, his eyes crinkling at the edge in what surely must appear to be a smile, though with his lower half masked it would be difficult to tell for certain. Turning those milky white eyes to the latter Hesrik wandered over, inhaling softly the scents of the land and feeling a begrudging admiration from the parasites within him at the lack of negativity. Stopping before the stranger the shinobi held out one gauntletted hand and nodded. Perhaps it was for the bug. "I recognize their ilk. My home was filled with ones such as you who served as bed and breakfast for them. Kikaichu, I believe they were called. I am sorry, but I have not had a chance to explore, and for the moment have no idea if there are any nearby." Keeping his eyes on the boy for a moment he continued. "Perhaps we may find some yet. I imagine if natural evolution still maintains its sway here than we are likely to find offshoots of them, descendants if you will." tab Looking to the side Hesrik continued, though his eyes were upon the pit they had been birthed from. "I believe we will find much if we but investigate. We will build structures for safety but then we must explore. I imagine we'll need to speak to each of the newcomers to see if they noticed anything of value in their travels here. Would you see to them, and gather what you can? If even one knows of a steady source of fresh water it will go a long way to our survival."
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ❝ With power, there is always a price. ❞
Techniques Used: ✤ Wall Technique → B - rank. Will get name later. Used multiple times.
Current Objectives: ✤ Teach the young bloodied iron that this world is no longer her's.
Items of Note: ✤ Techniques Learned: None
magcookie
NecroPlant
[ e x p ] 0000 x|x [ r y o ] 0000 x|x [ c h a k r a ] 450 / 450 x|x [ s t a m i n a ] 125 / 125
[ m o o d ] Bemused x|x [ h e a l t h ] Weakened x|x [ i n j u r i e s ] None x|x [ c o n t r o l ] Established
