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 Posted: Sat May 10, 2014 2:42 pm
Deep in the jungles of Tsukigakure live three tribes, once having been a single great tribe. Each of the tribe worships the Moon, believing it to be a genderless deity. For many years the tribe disagreed on the method of worship. One tribe sacrificed living beings ti appease the Moon deity, hoping to keep it from causing tidal waves. Another tribe believed that the one way to appease the Moon was to give it many gifts and tributes. The last tribe believed that tributes and sacrifices were the reason that the Moon deity constantly set its wrath upon them. Now the tribes are gearing up and readying for war. Tsukigakure does not want war encroaching upon the village. The task is to get the tribes to reach some sort of common ground or ensure thes swift victory of a single tribe.
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Posted: Sun May 11, 2014 12:29 am
Somewhere on the road, when traveling from the wasteland of dunes known as Sunagakure, into the sea-faring nation of Tsuki, Simon had wondered a great many things. He paused and asked himself questions that any teenage boy would pose to themselves, like what he wanted in life, what he believed in, what he loved and what he feared. He asked if there was a God, and though he found his answer some time later, it wasn't the sort of answer he was expecting. Everyone in the world wanted to believe that there was some great entity looking out for them. So, the revelation of Jashin, a God purely dedicated to discord, made him wonder what the fact of the matter was for those who hoped for greatness.
Even as he was swallowed whole by the Dark God, chosen as one of the few to be gifted with immortality, he kept wondering. He began to wonder even more, was there hope for a sinner?
Someone once told him that where the people around him had hearts, Simon was just a black infinite that never gave or received. He knew that too, and felt the change from daytime to darkness when it happened. In truth he'd experienced a lot of things that he enjoyed, engaging in his promiscuous activities and just saying ******** it to the world, to order, to expectations. He lived free as anyone ever could and people continued to give him everything he wanted. The thing was though, he woke up all the time wondering if there was something more to it. And that was what brought these silly thoughts to this mission: he wondered if the people of these tribes dreamed of more, as well. Did they actually find anything in the moon more than that it was a giant white sphere? How could anyone find spiritual enlightenment in a giant rock?
People were crazy, he knew that. He was one of the crazies; his thoughts, when not morbid, were so incredibly different. All the time, he felt a change in his psyche, as if he were growing to some unreachable point where he'd disappear from the sea of space and become something entirely different. That was a pretentious way to put it, but essentially he just never felt right. He never felt intact. There was something missing.
These strange thoughts filled his mind as he sat in the back of a transport, an old man and some horses his only pathfinders. He could've walked or ran, or perhaps jumped from tree to tree, but he wanted to sit. Rest. He wanted to just think, for a little while, as a sort of liberty. Eventually though, he arrived, and he reminded his thoughts that they'd have to come back another time. He was on the job now.
The place was strange, very foreign. There were vines and fruit, and some strange birds and animals. He could see people already, some little boys and girls playing around in the water, wearing either little clothes or none at all. The women were . . . unique in that they were not dressed much either, and the men . . . wow, was this a nudist tribe?
Well, they weren't so bad. The loincloths at least covered the men. The women still had their tribal assets to show, some of them. Some wore braided tops that looked a lot like something from the first century of man. How revealed they were seemed to vary based on how attractive they were. He wondered if that was some subservient commandment of theirs, or if they were simply trying to show up some of the other ladies. Perhaps neither, they just didn't give a damn.
After spending too long being curious about their exposed breasts, and of course being stared at by the men and waved at by the women, he sort of continued to something relevant involving his mission. Sort of. He began to look around to observe the 'culture' of the people, from the tiny market stalls to the large bathing area. Of course, both seemed rather strange for what seemed like a fairly barbaric settlement. They must've just been a little more advanced than the tribesmen he'd seen in books.
He took a seat against the grass of some hut, leaning likeacholo. Some were made of acceptable materials, some feces. He found a corner where he specifically did not have to look at the feces huts.
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Posted: Sun May 11, 2014 1:00 am
There had been a time in Keira's life where she had pondered on whether or not there was anything after death. Of course she had heard every theory out there twice over. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory; these were nothing more than stories told over and over again, passing themselves down enough generations to where they could actually gain a following. Keira had seen people put their beliefs in the most abstract things. Her father had prayed to Kami, some omnipotent being who hardly took notice of the lives of every day people. Prophets claimed to be messengers for gods, proclaiming their word gospel and truth. Keira knew a guy who swore by the book that his lucky hat was blessed by the gods. Growing up Keira loathed any god, wondering why they would allow atrocities into the world. Why was it that she had to grow up hidden in the darkness when others could live freely? What was the purpose of taking the life out of her father, of making Keira be alone? That was not the work of a benevolent god. Keira had put her faith in one thing since a very young age, and that was herself. She had never let herself down nor was betrayal ever a problem. Her own thoughts were the only words she needed to follow, her hands the only tools she needed to craft her own future.
Reading the file on these people who worshipped the moon was very intriguing to her. She had stayed up late a few nights in a row, reading by the light of the very rock that was considered holy to these indeginous people. Though they differed in the method of prayer and paying homage, each of the tribes believed the moon was the cause of all natural occurances. If a hurrican swept away their people and huts it was because the moon god was not appeased. Ritualistic sacrifices and offerings timed with a month of good weather solidifed their belifes. Keira had wondered just how she would manage to convince these natives to cease their war and live in tolerance in the least. Another concern of hers was where Simon intended to lead these people. He himself was a firm believer in Jashin, a ruthless god who reveled in sacrifices. Keira had looked into that and was quite amazed. While the following was small and Jashin's gift was rare there had been enough books on the matter to sate her needs. Jashin accepted sacrifices in return for his 'favor', which the Jashinists believed kept them immortal. They lived as tools for their dark lord in return for the ability to continue serving him. Keira had no idea if any of that was actually true, but she had heard tales of these immortal beings taking fatal blows and surviving. She could only hope that Simon's superior and pretentious attitude would keep him from wanting to aid the natives. Keira did not want to see a bloodbath over a reflective rock in the sky, let alone be apart of it.
When Keira set out the next day to begin assessing the tribes she had packed sparsely. She would visit each tribe in turn and try to understand where they all were coming from. While the groups were vicious to each other they accepted outsiders warmly enough. Keira thought it queer that they indeed seemed more friendly than people living in the Village. She chose to visit the tribe that did not believe in gifting the moon people or items. Upon arriving she had been greeted by a contingent of women and children. The kids danced around her speaking in a language she did not know, laughing and handing her flowers. The women led her to an area where everyone was partaking in a group breakfast. For the first few hours Keira sat with them, taking in everything she could. Often the children would come and hold an item before her, shouting out its name until Keira repeated it. In turn Keira gave them the names in the common tongue.
Life in the tribes seemed simple enough. The women gathered, cooked, and cared for the younger ones while the men hunted and patrolled their perimeters. Keira had been sitting cross legged with a child in her lap, surrounded by her hosts. The women were showing her how to weave a basket out of the fronds from the jungle trees. She heard a great drum bang thrice and everyone rose at once. Keira followed suit, walking with the throng of people headed towards the entrance of the small village. She found a vantage point at a guard tower and from there she watched as the men returned from the hunt. By now the sun was setting and the gates were closing. The parade of people all marched towards the center of the village where a large clearing was. Immediatly the natives began to set out tables, start fires, and skin the beasts that were slain that day. The men embraced their families and shared stories with them. Fathers played with their children and neighbors interacted. Keira experienced all she could; watching the men change from their hunting garbs into softer and warmer clothes, the children shrieking and running to and fro, and the women gossipng with one another. Everyone seemed to have a part in the festivities. As the sun fell farther and farther towards the horizon everyone appeared busier and busier. The animals were swiflty skinned and the pelts were carried away to be used later. Spits and ovens were fired up and soon enough the smell of meat was wafting throughout the villge. People began to enter their huts and bring back different kinds of vegetables and fruits. It seemed as if everyone around contributed to the feast.
Keira was given her own bowl full of berries and greens, as well as a bowl of fresh water. She ate alongside the tribe, listening to their strange language and picking up what she could. There were a few who spoke the common tongue, albeit fairly broken. It was with them that she conversed, inquiring about their culture. When night was finally upon them Keira found herself being led away from the fires and to a hill. Slowly every light in the village was snuffed out and darkness settled upon them. The night grew eerily quiet as the moon rose higher and higher into the sky. It was full tonight, a great white disc illuminating the entire island. An elder of the village began to speak in his gutteral language, pointing to the moon with a staff. After a few he began to chant, and the people joined in along side of him. As they sang their song each person began to strip down until they were bare naked. Keira watched from the distance, wondering what it was they were doing. They reached up and stretched their fingers to the sky and closed their eyes. One word rang out over and over again. Growing curioser and curioser Keira had to finally ask. "That word, what does it mean?" She asked one of the men who could understand her. He gave her a look while he thought on the matter and then spoke. "Cleanse."
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Posted: Sun May 11, 2014 6:58 am
Somewhere miles from here, the waves were crashing against the shore and a slew of people were sitting on the sand of the moonlit beach, staring blankly into the sphere that some hailed as God. Just like in the days of old, people continued to be fascinated by the parts of nature that they could not explain. Why was the sun so bright, so all-powerful? Even with science to answer everything, if one only looked at the lights in the sky, they could be swept away again. The people here, he wondered when they would lose their faith. When the days would come where they were Godless like the people of his village, left to wander and discover something else to make them happy. Give them purpose. For now though, they were all that they would ever be. The past made the man, whether from only years ago or the generations of ancestry. They'd grow over time with days like this hanging over their head, the savagery, wildness. He couldn't help but enjoy it, be taken away by the fire and the play, though he was not there to see it all. No, he remained away from them, finding himself too overwhelmed by the brief few hours he'd spent watching them and trying to talk to them earlier.
In-between some houses by the edge of the village, he was making his own fun. Three balls of energy floated around, circling each other like three dragons dancing in the sky. They were Jinton, with energy so refined they could incinerate anything. In the ignorance of these men and women, they did not realize the strength of those in the world around them. They had not foreseen that their Gods could indeed fail them, and they could all live and die in the choice of an instant, by any shinobi's whim. While he had learned that they did possess some techniques of their own, they were never a match for a trained military force. So, Simon wondered, what made Elizabeth fear them? They meant nothing to Tsuki, they were only people who would grow to rise against the foreigners living on their lands.
"You! What is that?" He was interrupted. There was a man beside him, though it looked rather like a boy. Sixteen perhaps, the age he was when he first became so divested in his own self; his powers, what he was. He spoke the common tongue, which meant that he wanted to learn it. Which meant that he had dreams, just like those in the city. He wasn't necessarily a shallow soul that lived to slaughter pigs and bed women. But most likely, for all the dreams he had, he would live only to see the same mundane life that his forefathers saw before him. Perhaps he'd even die tonight, depending on what the squad of two decided what was best.
When he finally got around to acknowledging the young man, he only looked, turned, and grinned. He took one step closer, and waved the balls of dust before the boy's curious eyes. "It's the power of the Moon."
When those words left him lips, he could not stare to see the reaction in the boy. Instead, he looked towards the center of the village to see bare bodies and wild feast. But more, there were people in cages being escorted. Escorted to the fire, to their doom, to the hands of Simon's dark God. There may have not been a soul or spirit of the Moon, but there was a reaper, a God of Death. He was so very real, and unknowingly, these people were aiding him. All of the slaughter in the world aided him, made him stronger. Perhaps one day he could break his chains and come to emulate himself in the world of the living. Maybe that was his dream, just like the city was the dream of the boy before Simon, and the infinite was the dream of Simon himself.
He turned back to look at the tribal, with his messy hair and his skinny figure. He seemed to be having trouble with finding the words to use, that he could speak to Simon with. He wanted to ask questions that he knew he might never be able to ask again. He wanted to hear of Tsuki, of the people, the animals and the plants. He wanted to know everything he could ever need to know, so that he could at least grow lost in fantasy as he searched for a way to escape this wretched place. "You don't need to say anything," he said to him. The orbs dispersed, and he took a step forward again. "I can see in your eyes that you're a lot like me." He remembered some words spoken by the villagers, earlier in one of their make-shift temples back when he first came around. Teani salves anhathwa, soivon kevah Jai. "Don't think and worry, for it is not of God." He repeated those words, but slightly altered. "Teani salves anhathwa, soivon kevah Jashin." His eyes were intense, and the boy's were fiery with curiosity. With the desire to understand.
He had given a name to the God, but not Jai. Jashin, something foreign and different.
An impressionable mind, if wielded by one intent enough and strong enough, could change the world as it was known. All Simon needed do was give him an idea, and he could unravel the rest to his excitement, his furor. "Jashin?" The boy asked, his eyes staring into Simon's emerald seas; the boy could be rather a mystic when he wanted to be. He knew how to make a young man's heart sing. That was a talent of his, a power. "God," he replied. "God," the native then replied. "I can teach you more about Him," he said. The boy nodded his head, understanding that much at least. He wasn't sure if he was deaf to the language or fluent. He seemed to understand enough to where Simon's words were not meaningless. That was enough.
The two sneaked into the back area of some hut, the braided kind rather than the manure-covered kind. He spoke to him for a bit, telling him some of Jashin's teachings. He showed him some more of what he could do. Then, some time later, he stabbed himself in the heart and allowed the boy to see. To look at the blood pouring out of his vessel, to watching the light in his eyes fade, but then seeing it all come back again. It was mystic beyond mystic, something more real than the power of any Moon he'd ever seen. He became infatuated with Simon's God, his words, his thoughts and realities. Simon, on the opposite side, knew that he had done well. The candle he had lit, a brazier from the darkness, swayed from side to side until Simon willed it to stop. Eventually, he found his body tangled with the young native boy, a side payment from Jashin for his dutiful proselytization. When he was sufficiently pleased, he grinned and spoke once again. "Don't tell anyone what I've told you. You're not lowly enough to be sacrificed as a heretic, and a liar. You can be His prophet." He exhaled, calming himself down, putting his clothes back on. He left his jacket with his 'apprentice', however, as sort of a souvenir from the experience. Simon wore only an undershirt and his pants now, though that was surely enough for this blazing pit of a village.
When he was ready, the young man with the dirty blonde hair returned to the village. He waved at Keira, who he had known was there just by a glimpse many hours earlier. He did not need to speak to her, as it would seem rather strange to be gossiping in a foreign tongue in the homes of these tribesmen. Plus, some could understand. He did not plan on letting any of them know his intent until it was bare for all to see, when they could not help but accept it for the sake of their lives. That was his plan, though it was alternative to the objective of the mission. No matter, he would achieve his goal. The tribe to accept the tenets of his Lord first would be the one spared from an execution of fire, earth and wind.
As the people chanted in their ancient tongue, over and over, cleanse, he began to chant on his own. Jashin, Jashin, Jashin, Jashin, he said, though not loud enough for anyone to hear him over their own fervor. He waited as their ritual began to progress, knowing eventually that they'd grow tired of the chants and one would speak out among them, perhaps to honor the Moon or discuss the battle with the other tribes, or perhaps they'd speak of simple things like joy and family. Instead of waiting for someone else, he decided to be the one to stand and speak. "Teani salves anhathwa, soivon kevah Jashin," he said, like he had to the boy from before. But there were more words that he knew, ones he'd rehearsed and ones he picked up like flowers from a linguistic field. "Kahana saldrez antonokwa, Jai. Naha tokwa saktah anhwa jevansokat cha."
"Tonight, I sacrifice to the moon," he said. "I sacrifice myself, my flesh and blood." And at that moment, he performed the same trick as he had with the boy, but more. Intensely enough, he stabbed himself in many of his vital organs; first his heart, then both lungs, then his intestines, stomach, kidneys. Some watched in horror, some elation, watching such a devout die before them. But when he did not die, they were all left to wonder. "But I don't die. And neither will any of you." It was the common tongue, but some would understand. They'd share it with their wives, sons, daughters, husbands, sheep, all tribals and their Chieftain. "I come to share with you the identity of the entity you've been sacrificing to all along."
And with that, his story began, and so the conflict of the night began. Some rose to speak against his apparent heresy, to which he replied with a beam of dust, of the 'light of the moon' through their skulls. Some came to believe in him, his immortality and bright white, all-consuming light being enough. Some didn't, believing him to be a demon or just another demented man of the city. Regardless, his work of God was done for the moment, and now he could begin to focus on what he came here for. An end to this three headed beast.
When the festivities were done, he came to sit by Keira, though people surely began to view them differently now. He was being watched by many eyes, and in response he eyed them back and waved. He spoke to the girl, one who he'd met only a few days ago, beneath the very same moon as tonight. It must've been fate, a stroke of God.
"I apologize for my rhetoric earlier. God spoke through me, however. I'd be a fool to bar His voice from my throat."
After such a strange presentation, she was probably wondering, what the ********, Simon? He expected as much, hoped for it at least. He felt a little strange himself, after all of that. Though the sex with the tribal boy wasn't so bad. He'd remember that one with a bit of a sheepy grin. "The other two villages will have to die out. Their people will be sacrificed in the great flame. That's the only way I see this ending." That was the only way he would permit it to end.
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Posted: Sun May 11, 2014 12:10 pm
By the end of the day Keira had figured out how she would help these tribesmen come to peace with each other. Each of them had shown her the same thing; an undying love and fear of the moon. It truly did not matter how they praised and paid homage to the celestial body. All Keira had to do was show them how much more they could be if they joined together. A house divided will not stand, and these tribesmen were on the brink if destruction brought on by silly intolerances and misgivings. She spent the day walking to each village, trying to get them to see the truth. But something happened, a word uttered in the shadows. Jashin. Keira thought it was the wind at first, until she found a group of young men speaking the lord of death's name in hushed whispers. One boy described in awe a foreigner who showed him the true power. He said he took a blade to his heart and did not die. The young boy was trying to get his friends to accept this new lord into their minds. Keira's eyes flitted about the group and to her dismay she saw a few of them glistening with curiosity.
Later on when Simon sat next to her and spoke Keira had to resist the urge to smack him. Not wanting to draw attention to the two of them Keira spoke in a low and smooth tone. "These people are not toys Simon. I know what you've done and I won't stand for it." Keira started, truly apalled that he had even tried to manipulate these people. The mission had not been to raise a cult. Simon was deviating from their task in order to satiate his own self-fulling wants. He did not care for these people, that much was evident. After spending just a day with the tribes in turn Keira could see that they were the same as everyone else. A little more primitive yes, but they had their own minds and hearts. Keira saw the blooming love of a courtship, the acceptance of a boy into manhood, the nurturing of a mother to her young; How could Simon so easily doom these people to die? He had forever altered the course of a few lives with his mutterings of Jashin and now he wished to obliterate others for their beliefs. Religious persecution was such an archaic excuse for bloodshed. All Simon wanted was favor for his lord and nothing more. "I'm not going to stand idly by while you lead these men and women to slaughter their own kind. There is a way to end this peacefully, Simon." Keira said, pushing herself to her feet and stalking away from the boy.
Keira found herself absentmindedly wandering through the villages, once more watching life happen around her. The men seemed to be preparing for war. Spears were being sharpened, voices were kept low and sentences short. There was no more merriment and joy. Once she saw a man draw a triangle in the dirt with a circle around it. She knew this to be Jashin's symbol. Another man wiped away the picture and slapped the other, pointing at the moon and speaking harshly. Keira needed to undo the work that Simon had done and go even farther. It wasn't long before she found herself standing outside of the chieftain's great tent. In here there were the generals and leading soldiers. A scattering of women were present as well, though they seemed to only be aiding the men in repairs to their simple armor and weapons. The boss man himself sat at the head of the large bonfire, holding a pipe up to his mouth and puffing on it slowly. Keira entered uninvited and received a lot of stares from the warriors and their women. She felt a sudden onset of stage fright and sweaty palms and had to resist the urge to wipe them on her pants. Instead she balled them into fists and marched up to the chieftain. In their own tongue, ableit botched and very slow, Keira spoke. "Tell me why you march your men to fight against their own brothers. What do you seek to fuflill?" Whatever talk that had been lingering had died out as the Chieftain stared at Keira. He inhaled slowly through his mouth and released the smoke from his nostrils. Keira desperately wished she had a cigarette right now.
The man removed the pipe from his mouth and slowly tapped it against his leg. The ash fell away from it and he began to repack it with some mysterious green herbs. All the while Keira felt the eyes on her, the less understanding ones wondering why a strange girl was questioning their leader. The chieftain raised his pipe and lit it with a stick from the fire. Once again he took a few breaths from it and let the smoke waft into the air. Keira's nose scrunched up at the smell; it wasn't regular tobacco. The chieftain reached out and offered the pipe to her. Keira, suddenly caught off guard, felt selfsconscious. If she refused the chieftain she would never be taken seriously again. But if she did partake in this ritual would she be in the right state of mind. Keira womaned up and sat down in front of the chieftain, cross-legged and ready to play. She brought the pipe to her mouth and hit it like a pro.
A few hours later and Keira was feeling freer than America an eagle. Her limbs felt lighter than feathers and her body felt as if it was slowly spinning. A faint smile had spread to her lips and every now and then Keira found herself licking them. She was listening to the Chieftain talk of his meetings with the other tribes. "And they took a young girl, having just flowered into a woman. They stripped her of all her garbs and painted her. The men carried the girl to an alter and burned her alive." Keira nodded her head intently, acutely aware of how funny the Chief's mouth looked as it moved. His face was clean shaven, right down to the skin. She had noticed that all of the men shaved their faces and bodies, leaving only the hair upon their heads and brows. Keira briefly wondered if the women did the same and caught herself gazing upon a particularly attractive girl. She was sitting against the wall, alone and tending to a broken shield. The girl was more exotic than anyone Keira had ever decided to look at in that way. Her skin was tanned perfectly, a golden brown of sorts. The girl's hair was as black as the nighttime sky and her eyes were almond shaped. Keira traced the shape of her lip with her eyes until she found the girl looking back at her. An easy smile spread to her face and she put on a look that was meant to catch looks. It took a moment and Keira realized she had gotten very far off track. She gave a wink to the girl and received a blush in return.
The chieftain continued on with his stories about the other tribes. Keira learned of how one of them coveted all sorts of items and trinkets to gift to the moon deity. "For what need does a god have for gold and jewelery? For what need does a god have of young girls and boys? None. The moon does not care for the self important men." Keira remained silent before her voice left her mouth before her brain could rationalize her thoughts. "Have you ever wondered whether those men out there, the other tribesmen, were having the same conversation right now about you? About how your lack of offerings were what made the moon wroth with anger? I mean, how can you even really know who's right and who's not? Did you ever ask the moon?" Keira said, giving an incredulous look to the chieftain. Silence enveloped the room once more and Keira felt her head grow hot. The cheif was quiet for a long time, long enough that Keira wondered if she should get up and run before these people grew angry with her. But when the Chief spoke it was in a pensive voice. "No." Something clicked in her head just then.
Keira had a plan, but she needed time. The inevitable battle would take place in the middle of each tribe, and that was where Keira intended to lay her trap. All through the night she dug holes, rigged hidden wires and ran through her plan over and over again. If she failed then Simon would have his way. He would be the cause for hundreds of innocent and ignorant deaths. They did not know he was just another man working for his own wants. Keira spent the night on the crest of a hill, gazing up at the night time sky. The moon had disappeared, entering the new phase of its cycle. Only a ghostly outline remained. Silently Keira prayed, though to whom she did not know.
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Posted: Sun May 11, 2014 2:58 pm
When Keira spoke to him, so angrily, he replied with absolutely nothing at all. He sat still and allowed her to go off and do whatever it was she intended to do. Once she was gone, he continued his work, knowing it to be against her will. The village's will though, was being served either way. As long as the mission was completed, then it didn't matter what these people believed in. He would indeed ensure the swift victory of one tribe, while Keira tried to solve it peacefully. She would surely find no luck. When posed a question: would you be a man, or a God, any would pick the latter. The Moon gave these people nothing. Jashin could give them everything, all he'd given Simon and perhaps more. The sacrifice of their kinsmen would not be in vain. They would live on as immortals, and that was what he would continue to remind them with.
Unfortunately, the fact that they didn't speak the common tongue made this all much more difficult, more frustrating. He sought out the teen who he'd slept with earlier, knowing him to be a bit more knowledgeable in his language. He could also find him more people who knew of the language, and they could all help him spread the word. The Dust wielder searched for some time, before he saw his back first and then rushed up to see him. He tapped him on the shoulder, then pulled him to the side to discuss whatever it is he wanted to discuss.
"How's it going?" He asked. "Good," the boy replied. He tried to say more, but he didn't really know how to pronounce the words or phrase them properly. He just understood the words, singularly, which meant that actually speaking was rather difficult. "Good. I'm glad. I have a mission for you. I want you to answer a few questions. First of all, what sort of abilities do the other tribes possess? Elements, fighting styles... stuff like that." He stopped and went silent so that the boy could speak. He knew it'd be tough, but he could at least rather slowly put the words together. "All tribe use water. That is big reason we worship Jai, it is connected to it. Somehow. I cannot say why, but original founder of this belief knew it to be true." Simon nodded his head. That made sense. Scientifically, the Moon was indeed a master water elemental; it manipulated the tides in the ocean, even the blood in human's bodies, especially women's. It was strange that such a primitive tribesman could somehow uncover this, though.
Unfortunately, the fact that they used water was a burden for him. He needed to find ways to remove certain key individuals that would stick with their heresies, without making it too obvious that it was foreign intervention. If they could, perhaps, find the Chieftain bloated like a toad in his hut... then perhaps they'd find it as a sign, rather than an attack, like they would if Simon lit him on fire or something. Then again, Simon already did openly spear a few people's skulls with a light beam last night. "Who else speaks the continental language? I was thinking I could discuss their future with them, all of them. It would certainly help to resolve this issue." To that, the tribal boy responded with a long list of names. There were apparently a lot more people in this specific tribe than he suspected. He didn't see all too many people at the bonfire from last night, which must've meant that some excluded from such practices, strangely enough. Or perhaps more people spoke the language than he suspected.
"And what is your name?" He also asked. And the boy responded, "Maldan." A unique enough name. Simon nodded his head, gave the boy a brief hug, and then went on to continue his business. He looked for the names, asking others around the village. Some then gave him physical descriptions. It was still tough to find them though, as he sort of felt like a lot of these people looked quite similar. They all had black hair, brown eyes. There wasn't much to distinguish one from the other. Their individuality did not change their fashion sense, as they all pretty much wore the same thing. They didn't seem to really have individuality. The piercings they had or the hairstyle they carried was just about all to separate them, so he asked for that. Eventually, he rooted out each and every one of them and spoke to them of the new God. Some were reluctant, some accepting after witnessing that display from the night prior. He only needed a few to agree, but many more fell in line. It would not be difficult to convert this tribe, he probably already had.
One thing he made sure to remind them with was that Jashin was not a separate entity, but all things that rose in the night. He was the moon, and sacrifices did please him. They seemed interested in that idea, as it fell along with their beliefs anyway. Of course, none of this would be enough if Simon could not guarantee them with physical evidence of Jashin's eminence. He already knew what he had to do -- he had to somehow make one of them into an immortal.
How did he become an immortal? When was it that he recognized the change from man to monster, from a free spirit to a slave of the darkness? He needed to remember exactly how those days came and went in order to somehow turn another.
He remembered some bits of the change, of that past. He stood over the blood of his 'father', the man who had kidnapped him when he was a kid. He had lived his entire life with this man, and loved him for a time, feared him for much longer. He eventually desired to kill him, for it was the only way to find true freedom. And so he did, he sliced his throat, his wrists, watched all of the blood drain from him within a moment. He carved the words into his chest: "Penance," and then he left the scene and did not return. He remembered seeing something that night, as he boarded a sort of train to go from the southern part of Sunagakure to north, near the Konoha border. On the train, a man in all black sat next to him. His face was pale as snow, and his eyes were blue. He did not seem to have any hair, just a hat covered the top of his head. He could not remember exactly how it happened, but he knew that when his eyes met the mysterious man, that was when the evolution began. That man must've been Jashin. He always knew it had to be him, somehow.
If it really began by meeting Jashin, and looking into his eyes, then that was not a feat he could perform on his own. He would need the Lord himself to intervene, or all of his work would be lost.
Some time later, wandering through the village, he noticed a small stream of blood pouring from one of the braided huts. Curious, he stepped in to witness the sight of whatever had died. Within, he saw a woman and two children, who seemed rather morbid from what he could tell. They did not look at him, just the corpse of a man who seemed to be the one who was killed. He could not be sure if they were the assailants, but from the hateful look in their eyes, he figured that must have been the case. He sat down beside the adult woman, and took her hand. She looked at him strangely. He held a dagger in his hand, and together they carved the word: penance.
When it was over, he walked away from the hut, and stared quietly down as far as he could. Perhaps if he waited eagerly enough, the God would come to grant the woman his gift. Then, when shown that the people of the village could grow under a new order, they would all tow the line of the new Lord.
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2014 4:34 pm
Finallly the next night had come. Keira had spent the entire day toiling over her plan and ensuring her success. How could she return to the village having failed her first mission, especially if it ended in a massacre the way Simon would want. Her motivation levels were very high right now. The anticipation was killing her and Keira was having a hard time occupying herself throughout the day. She had seen some fruit dangling high in a tree and decided to climb it without using any sort of ninja magic. By the time she reached the top Keira could really appreciate the ache of her muscles. She wiped the sweat from her brow and pushed back her hair, enjoying the delicious prize of a meal. The sun was setting and soon the battle would begin. Keira hadn't realized she fell asleep until the beating of the drums. The heavy bass rolled through the lands and shook the tree she was resting in. Keira carefully removed all sources of noise from her body, anythign that could possibly draw attention to herself. She didn't intend to use any weapons for what she had planned anyway. As the sounds of war drums, footsteps, and battlecries grew ever closer, Keira steadily entered a state of pure calm. Her plan relied heavily on illusions and that required a cleared mind. If she was panicked then there was no guarentee that her illusions would be nearly as affective. Keira had to cast this upon a very large amount of people, any single person who could see through her illusion would ruin the entire thing. She needed them to believe in what they saw.
Keira was squatting down in a branch, using the leaves around her as cover. She was remaining perfectly still, her breath hardly making a noise. The woman was straining her eyes and ears to catch anything moving. And then it happened. The rustling of the fallen leaves and snapping twins had Keira spinning in place to see the first of the warriors advancing. There was no order, no strategy, only sheer mayhem. When the tribes clashed there was a resounding boom, strong enough to shake the trees themselves. Keira gripped the branch she was using as a perch and watched as the war began. Spears and arrows were shot and tossed with expertise, finding their marks in the flesh and bodies of enemies. The screams were the worse. Keira forced herself to keep her eyes open and watch it all. She had to wait until all of the tribes were convened together, in open view of the moon.
Keira gazed skyward and spotted the moon at its highest point. Looking back to the ground she could clearly see every single warrior. Their faces were illuminated by the pale moonlight from above. Now was her time to strike. Keira focused on the energy within herself and began to weave an intricat set of seals. When she was done she turned her hands palms out towards the middle of the battle, directly in the center of the clearing. Keira felt the intense drawing of energy from her body; the cost of affecting so many people at once. She slumped against the trunk of the tree and had to cling to the branch with her legs else she would have tumbled right out of it.
The battle raged on for a few more moments before the change took hold. The moonlight began to waver and flicker, the pale white of it turning into a harsh red. The warriors slowly stopped, all more concerned with their god then their war. Each face was turned skyward as weapons and shields dropped from their hands to the ground. Keira steadied her breathing and laid on her stomach to get a better view of what was happening. In the eyes of the natives the moon began to shimmer and crack, before it literally imploded and disappeared from the sky. Shouts of fear and surprise rang out across the battlefield as hundreds of men fell to their knees and begged and prayed. They took up a collective wail of agony at the sight of their god being obliterated.
Keira knew this was when she would have to act, or lose her chance. Her chakra was flying out faster than she had anticipated and soon the mirage would be over. She slid off of the branch and fell heavily to the floor, rolling with the impact to keep from breaking her legs in two. Keira pushed herself back up and sprinted to the center of the fight. It was here that she stopped and raised her voice. In their language she spoke as best as she could. "Your war as angered the moon spirit! You cannot see past your own vain beliefs! It is the moon who you should spend so much time doting on, not the method of worship!" At the end of her speech it seemed as if every single person was staring at her. Keira kept her emotions level and activated the second portion of the genjutsu. She pointed at the sky and exclaimed once more. "Look!" Keira shouted in their tongue once more. Everyone looked in the direction of her hand and all beheld a mystical sight. A beam of moonlight originating from nothing was shining on the ground. The natives backed away from it and sounds of wonder and amazement resounded throughout the clearing. The shaft of light solidifed and took the form of a ball of light, almost as if it were a miniature version of the moon. The natives all dropped to their knees and bowed, too fearful to gaze at its beauty. Keira figured she may as well do the same for fear of offending them.
The moon spirit then spoke, in a voice both male and female, terrifying and beautiful at the same time. "From my great home in the sky I come, for each of you have lost your path. I made you all the same; brother and sister to all. Do not throw away my gift believing you are all right, when in fact you are not." As the spirit spoke the weather began to grow increasingly terrible. Rain began to pelt down and the wind howled. Nothing could drown out the voice of the spirit. "I am wroth with anger; full to the brim with disappointment. I will begin anew, with creations who will not bring me shame." Thunder and lightning cracked in the sky and the sound of waves intensifying could be heard. All of the native men began to shout and plead for the forgiveness of the gods. Keira bit her lip and raised her head, looking for the chiefs. Just as she did so three men pushed their way to the spirit and threw themselves before it. "Great moon spirit! Do not destroy us! We have seen the folly in our ways! One chief shouted, kneeling down and stretching out his hands. Another chief did the same, taking the hand of the other and speaking as well. "We shall end our wars and throw away our hatred for one another!" The last chief hesitated for but a moment befor doing the same, forming a triangle around the ball of moon light. "We shall be whole again!" As the last chief proclaimed his promise to the moon everything ceased at once. The rains and lightning died down, the thunder ceasing to crash loudly in the clouds. The moon spirit faded from eyesight, and slowly the moon reappeared in the sky. Tentatively the chiefs looked from the sky and at each other. Keira expertly and seamlessly ended the genjutsu so the real moon took place of the false one she had created. She felt her legs give under her and the darkness swelled up and wrapped around her as she fell unconscious.
When she awoke Keira found herself unable to move. For a brief moment she struggled and feared she had been captured. Perhaps they were going to offer her as a sacrifice. Once she moved her arm she realized it was only a blanket covering her. Keira pushed herself up to her elbows and gazed around. She was inside of a sort of tent, a warm fire blazing in the middle. All over the floors were woven rugs and blankets, covered by even more cushions and even some tables. The smoke drifted lazily out of an opening in the top and the entrance was covered by a flap. Keira got on her feet and walked outside, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2014 1:24 am
Simon continued to act in Jashin's interests. When the sunrise came, he had assured himself that at least half of the village was already enticed or converted. That seemed like an ambitious number considering he'd only just arrived here, but revealing his immortality to these people made them very keen on his faith. They, too, wanted to walk among life and death in a balance; to sit on the edge of both, but be taken by neither. They wanted to be Gods amongst men, as Simon had become. That ambition of theirs could lead them to see but one thing only: Jashin. However, he was positively assured that Keira was working against his interests as he spoke. She said that she would not allow him to do as he wished. And of course, considering her talents, she just might end up as a hindrance to his goals. But not if he could manage to turn her actions to his advantage. Simon was, from birth, a schemer. He was a trickster, a liar, and ultimately someone who flipped to whichever alignment suited him. He had gained a number of talents from this rather unorthodox lifestyle, and he planned to exercise them tonight. It was tonight, surely, where Keira would strike at the heart of the Jashinist faith.
Some hours later, he was proven correct. When the battle was about to begin, with Simon about ready to assist in annihilating the other two tribes, she intervened and began to yell to them about their folly. Then, of course, her plan initiated. It was rather choppy too, surely not enough to fool a civilized person. But these people, they were desperate and still stuck in their caveman days where they ran around with rocks on sticks and hunted boar for the daily rations. When the image actually arrived, that ball of light beneath the rays, he rolled his eyes. It was rather choppy. If she really wanted to impress them, then perhaps she could've tried to have the moon appear closer, or on the horizon. Just a ball of light could be imitated by any shinobi, or even just the flicker of a switch. When it spoke, it seemed to speak Keira's own impaired version of the language, though Simon wasn't much better so he couldn't judge. Still, he was amazed to see the curious faces of the natives. They actually seemed to fall for her trick.
Simon stared quietly, the bright light of the ball covering his vision. He waited patiently, listened closely, all for the proper moment to strike. He realized that one thing he could do would be to kai many of them out of the technique, but that would be wasting resources. They would possibly turn on the foreigners, believing them to be tricksters and liars. Also, Simon could not directly call Keira out. They had to seem unified, as if they did not have alternative agendas. Instead, as he planned to earlier, he decided to use this ploy by the girl to its greatest extent. So, when it finished speaking, he used a voice replication technique and continued on its train of thought. He also concealed that the words were coming from his own lips by transformation technique. He appeared to be Simon, but with lips not moving. He only stared blankly at the orb of light.
"There is more that I have to tell you," The 'Moon' continued, once they had decided to cease their war. "It is a great secret that has been lost by generations of lies. It is of my own identity, what I inevitably am. I will tell you the truth of who it is that you bow to." The voice began to change, it grew more sour and dark as it continued to speak. "I preside over more than you realize. I am Death, I am Chaos. Jai is just a facet of my identity; I am also Jashin, the God of Darkness. I have instructed these foreigners to reveal this to you. I have gifted this boy, Simon, with the light of the moon and the defiance of death. I have gifted one of your own kinswomen with the defiance as well. You know her as Aldreza."
At that moment, the woman from before walked through the battlements and into the center of the crowd. To assure that his plan would work, he had come to visit her early this morning. She laid on her bed with a dagger through her heart, possibly to punish herself for what she did to her husband. But she did not die. Surely as death, God had prevailed for Simon and helped him to consolidate His will over these tribes. All Keira's unification meant was that all three tribes would live under the scepter of Jashin, which was all the merrier for the dust-wielding boy. "The blade in her heart is my first gift. It will be a relic, kept sacred by the tribe," it said. The woman grinned, filled with ecstasy as she walked through the people of her tribe. They all stared in awe. "May Aldreza live forever as my champion. May Maldan light the globe as my priest. May you all find unification under my cold embrace."
When it had finally finished speaking, the people of the tribes ran to embrace Aldreza, inspect her, and hail her as their champion. Maldan was given handshakes and smiles all around, and even Simon and Keira received their fair share of appreciation. During the commotion, the blonde-haired man slowly walked over to Keira and smiled at her, rather politely. "Be careful, Keira. God's watching," he started, "and he's a better liar than you, a better trickster than you." With those words, he continued to walk on, right past her, and he disappeared into the overjoyed crowd. Tonight would be one of celebration; of feast, love, and overwhelming piety.
All Hail Jashin.
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