Bound [Private | Cabal | Mission]

Sand Council · Jun 11, 2015

OC: There will be a rescue mission shortly for this. Usual max of 4 players. This torture thread is being done with the consent of the participants, so please do not do this without the expressed permission of your victims OC'ly.

IC:

The seedy underbelly of Sunagakure had a name: The Black Bazaar. A place that even the worst of degenerate would reconsider traversing. It was here that the lawless holed themselves up and Sunagakure turned a blind-eye to their antics. The Black Bazaar was Sunagakure's dirty little secret. A place where human parts could be sold... for a price. Where lives were nothing more than a commodity. The taboo was not necessarily commonplace, but it was accepted here. Souls trapped within blades, ancient curses where power came at a terrible price, even a shrine dedicated to Jashin. There was no sign announcing such things that were beyond the pale, but most people had a sense for dark and unnatural things. The heart would hasten and the pit of one's stomach would grow sour. It was here that one's better sense would tell them to run, to hide. It would be the sensible thing to do. To leave and to never return, but some of the residents here do not have such a luxury.

Three hours ago a behemoth of a man, standing close to seven feet in height entered the Black Bazaar, an unconscious person over each shoulder. It was the sort of thing that a hero would stop, but the Black Bazaar was devoid of such figures. There was the occasional vigilante weekend warrior, but their time was often fleeting before they did something stupid and got themselves killed. People were foolish in that way, thinking that they alone could change the world. Heroes are rarely remembered because few succeed and even fewer live long enough to tell the tale.

Shouki

"I would like a room. Something with a view!" Shouki announced as he entered a particularly squalid motel that requested payment by the hour. His voice made it seem like he was staying at a three star hotel for a vacation rather than the quarter-star locale he had chosen. Over each of his shoulders was a body, the same two he had made no effort to conceal as he made his way to the Black Bazaar. He nodded and even gave a polite wave as some passerby's gawked and moved to the other side of the street. Some even muttered a call notifying the ANBU of the scene they saw. Grossly understaffed and reeling still from the devastation of the Cabal's initial attack it was no surprise that nobody came but it was disappointing to Shouki all the same. The calls and the odd looks of course stopped once he entered the Black Bazaar, there were flashes of recognition, even some of approval. Not everyone in Sunagakure supported the present government and there were even some anarchist supporters still within the village borders.

Perhaps that was why Shouki chose the hotel he did in particular. The gesticulation of a vagrant directed him in the direction of a shabby building made of brick and mortar. The windows were barred and the glass in several was broken. The sign was broken, left to hang on an angle and it read Expectations in faded brown letters. Inside there was a man counting out a roll of bills, sliding several under a grate and across a table to the man on the otherwise. "Three hours it is," the assumed manager stated as he added "no refunds." It was then that the beady eyes of the shop owner rested on Shouki, his face did not betray his thoughts if he had any on the matter as he shook his head. "No soundproofing up there, you will have to take the basement," he stated matter of factually. "Are those shinobis?"

Shouki nodded in affirmation. He was pretty sure that they were shinobis, they did shinobi things. They did not do shinobi things well, but what shinobi did these days.

"Then no charge," he added as he slid a rusty key-ring under the grate to Shouki. "Have fun..." he smiled.

"Anyone here who can take my bags, maybe give me room service or turn down service?" Shouki quipped.

The manager frowned, "only a key-giving service. And dispose of the bodies after you are done."

Shouki let out a dramatic sigh, the kind you see when you realized that the restaurant is making you use the wrong year wine and it was off by a whole two years. "Very well then," Shouki replied with a hint of sarcasm but a creepier smile as he knotted the key-ring in Shiori's hair for safe-keeping while he lugged them to the basement. The door itself was a steel-reinforced monstrosity that opened hesitantly when he twisted his key in the keyhole, Shiori loosing a lock of hair in the process. The door opened inward, he pushed through with his forefoot and descended the staircase.

Get Out Alive

There was little in the room, a metal table and a few chairs. He dropped the pair on the ground. The space was depressing, even to someone such as Shouki. The white walls were almost grey from grime, the table and chairs were overturned, the legs and arms warped but not broken. Signs of wear could be seen where metal ground against metal for what seemed like a protracted period of time. He lifted the man off the ground first, he seemed to be the more capable of the two to put up a fight. Spools of ninja wire were wrapped around his wrists, binding him to the metal chair. The chair was no bolted to the floor and it rocked with each passing turn. A second pair around Isaki's legs united his legs to the chair. It was tight enough to bite into his skin, but not enough to break the flesh. His handiwork was crude, remedial at best but he made due with what he had found in the woman's pockets and what was left in the room from the former resident, a probable dart player considering the dart board and the rusted aged darts left on the floor.

The woman was lifted and placed into the second chair, her hands tied behind her back on the other side of the high chair. She was the least of his risks and more an interest considering the fact that she did not fit in a world of shinobis at the least. Her legs simply tied together, she was rather short and her toes did not touch the ground. Both were beaten to the brink of death, it was going to be awhile before either awoke. Thankfully they would have each other to keep company. He turned out the lights and ascended the stairs. "Behave kids, I will play with you both shortly."

Michi · Jun 11, 2015

Shiori woke with a gasp. Her eyes opened but she only saw the inky black. Where was she? What happened? Her mind raced through possible scenarios as she struggled to remember where she was last. Everything hurt, her entire body ached. Even her groin strangely enough. She tried to stand up, only to realize that she could not. Her arms were tied tightly behind her and her legs were bound together. She banged against the chair, causing it to rock and almost fall over before she realized that she had been kidnapped. She leaned away from the path of descent, attempting to save herself from a fall. It was already too late, her chair clattered on the cement floor. Shiori let out a yell as she crash landed. She was uninjured, merely jarred.

She craned her neck and listened. She was not alone in the room, she could hear someone else breathing. She could hear the percussive rhythm of their heart, the groan and churn of their gastric contents. "H-hello?" Shiori called out, her hands fighting against the ninja wire that united them. Her wrists ached and her legs scraped against the ground as she tried to pull herself upright only to fall back down again. The noise she was making was enough to give her a clear scene of where they were despite the darkness. There was a man in a chair, she recognized him because he was with her... that is it! She was with him and Sousuke and Harupia, not that she knew the latter most man's name and she had her son. Her heart skipped a beat at the revelation of Makeinu, the fact that he was left behind. Was he alright? Did he die? She convulsed against her bindings and let out a grunt through gritted teeth as the wires were starting to draw blood.

She was still in the same dress that she wore when she entered the Obsidian. The hem was ripped and covered in dirt, but much like her body most of her injuries and damages seemed internalized. Her long red hair was a snarled mess. The ponytail that had pulled most of the strands from her face had gone loose and unruly strands covered her eyes and tickled her shoulders. She was badly bruised, but like most shinobi and obviously Ancients: she was a quick healer. Most had already faded but she was ghastly pale, weak from the assaults and the healing process. She shook her head, attempting to allow her hair to resettle elsewhere, some of her tresses complied, but those were only replaced with new ones. She out a breath of frustration.

"The hell you think you are doing you sicko!" Shiori yelled at Isaki, at first not realizing that he too was bound. Where am I?" Shiori shouted, demanding some answers. Why did he take her to this hell hole and what was he doing just sitting there in that chair. "Sousuke will--!" Shiori snapped as she cut herself off.

Rakujo Yumeko · Jun 11, 2015

In a new place...

As Naikishin had been carried off to places unknown, at least to him, had continued to stay unconscious throughout being dropped, put into a chair, and bound to said chair with ninja wire that was biting at his skin. Though the thing that had woken him up from his 'slumber' after having been knocked out by the giant of a man, was the clanging made from Shiori hitting the ground.

Before he was startled by Shiori falling to the floor, his body had been much more active during the hours where the two were alone in the dark. Mainly due to the small amount of his weapon, or better said the spirit of his weapon, Ko, had attempted to heal him in a previous fight by putting part of her essence on the wound to try and heal it, though the unexpected had happened. Naikishin had absorbed part of Ko and the outcome of this was unforeseen, since neither one really paid much mind after it had happened. His genetic like was changing and so was he, even physically as the two sat in the darkness.

Once he woke up, he would notice something was off after a moment of waking up, but then again he couldn't see anything due to the entire room being pitch black. The main thing he could tell was that his shirt seemed a bit tighter than it was before. Though after that realization had happened, he would cough up an amount of blood that he couldn't tell due to being bound directly to a chair. He was sore like no other, except maybe Shiori, but that was a different subject.

He would soon hear Shiori soon yell at him, before soon cutting herself off when she had brought up the name of Sousuke. He would sigh, before spitting some blood from his mouth that had decided to stay there after having coughed some up. "Shut... up..." He had said, though he had quickly noticed that his voice had changed, to sounding a bit more feminine, and trying to clear his throat again.

"Who was... that guy?" Naikishin would ask Shiori, clearing his throat in the middle of the sentence. He was confused beyond all hell as to why his voice leaned more towards the feminine side, as well as why his shirt was tighter than before, but seemed that only time would tell him what happened.

[MFT]

Sand Council · Jun 11, 2015

Shouki

"Who was... that guy?"

The door cracked open, light flooded the small room. It was dim, the images he saw of the woman on her side on the floor and the ...babe in the chair. A light flickered on, a bare bulb overhead was more than enough to illuminate the small space. "I think it is me who is supposed to be asking the questions, giving the answers... you know running the show." Shouki announced as he descended the staircase. Each step creaked as he carried with him his burden. It was a bucket of ice water in a large metal bucket in one hand and a large wooden in the other. Water sloshed over the side of the metal bucket that he wordlessly placed on the floor. He then walked to the metal table that he had at some point turned upright and dropped the wooden box on the face, it made a dull clattering bang to suggest that there was something metallic solid within. As he opened the box, an array of tools could be seen. Some looks like pliers, others more like long narrow ice picks, others hooked blades and still others seemed more like meat cleavers than instruments.

A masochist by proclaimed nature, it would seem that he was now fulfilling a secondary role.

"Don't know when you turned into a woman, not that I am complaining," Shouki commented as he took inventory of his wares, taking a moment to take a long glance at the white-haired woman. She reminded him of his mother in a way, of course his complex would have put Oedipus to shame. Curved pointy thing... check. Straight pointy thing... check. Sharp grabby thing... check. "Who I am is the wrong question to ask. You have to learn to ask the right questions or you will never get the right answers." Shouki instructed. If they were going to play this game, they were going to do it right. "For example, I am Shouki. You now have a name, but it does you no good!! Even if I am the only Shouki in the world, congratulations... you know a name!" It was an ironic truth he shared, people's preoccupations with identities and why they are what they were. Who gives a fuck why a man is a monster? The only time you care about who someone is would be when their identity and past gives you something you want more than you already have. THEIR identities were much more valuable than his.

Seemingly satisfied with his holdings, Shouki pulled a long pointy thing from the box and approached Naikishin. The profile of the tool rested on the side of his... or rather her face as Shouki inspected his new prisoner. The pick slid down the side of 'her' face and the lateral aspect of the neck before resting at the gap in his... her kimono over her chest and he lifted the kimono quizzically and stared for a more than comfortable moment. "What is with the tits?" He asked as he withdrew his tool, leaving a scratch on Isaki's exposed cleavage. "Not that I am one to complain, hurting women is always more fun," Shouki commented as he adjusted the placement of his pants. "Bad question, I know... but curious enough, I thought I was simply getting weird fetishes in my old age," Shouki added as he feigned wiping sweat from his brow. Whatever genjutsu the woman used to make herself appear as a man was top-notch, he had everything but his loins fooled. That being more dangerous than fooling him utterly. "I have always liked a woman capable of making me feel something... but it is now my turn, I would not be a gentleman otherwise."

With that he turned away and with a single hand he lifted Shiori and chair attached off the floor and placed them upright. "As for you..." Shouki announced as his face came uncomfortably close to Shiori's. "You try too hard, but more importantly: I would like to know what you are to this 'Sou-Sou' of yours," Shouki asked. He did not wait for an answer as he plunged the pick though Shiori's leg. "Who is he? ...I cannot hear you if you do not speak up." He twisted the pick and watched as red sand started to stain her white dress. His left hand met Shiori's face, just under her jaw as he relinquished the pick and left it in her leg to linger. "I am not nearly as patient as my friends you ugly little cunt," Shouki growled as he pressed against her throat enough to compress her windpipe. "I am only keeping you both alive because you are worth more alive than dead," Shouki explained as he loosened his grip and let Shiori find a lungful of air.

His attention divided, one being more interesting than the other, Shouki returned his gaze to Isaki. "You I find interesting... you can wield a sword like no other," Shouki announced as he picked a rusted dart off the floor. "But, there is a problem with that..." he announced as his voice trailed off. Between his fingers he held the dart and with a flick of the wrist he released the dart in Isaki's direction. He was not a good shot when it came to ranged attacks. He was not aiming for what he was about to hit, he just wanted to hit a boob to see if it would *pop* like a balloon. Something else would pop, like a watery balloon one would suppose. Everyone says it is all 'fun and games until someone loses an eye.' Truth... The cacophony of probable screams did not deter him, despite the mark being unintended. Rather he laughed as he finished his intended phrase, "you are on the wrong side, and I would guess with one eye you are going to stay there now."

Oops --- sorry about the eye dear.

Michi · Jun 12, 2015

Shiori struggled against her bindings to no avail as she accused Isaki of placing her in this predicament.

"Shut... up..."

He, or rather she coughed, leaving Shiori momentarily in a stunned silence. "No!" Shiori debated as she attempted to roll over her chair, something the was mildly successful in, but not in a way she would have wanted as the chair fell onto its wide back in her struggled and refused to roll either direction. Her legs in the air, she kicked at nothing. "And what is wrong with your voice" Shiori hissed as the weight of her body and the chair both pressed against her hand making them feel numb.

"Who was... that guy?"

"Who was what guy?" Shiori countered with a grade-school rebuttal. It was then that Shouki opened the door. It made Shiori blind thrice, while the lighting was dim it seemed blinding to Shiori as she squinted at the hazy outline of the behemoth ginger who entered.

"I think it is me who is supposed to be asking the questions, giving the answers... you know running the show."

Shouki announced as he traversed the threshold and the rickety staircase. Her eyes seemed to pop as she saw the contents of the box in his hand. Perhaps she was made an assumption in haste assuming that Isaki was the one who had taken her. He had changed, or at least changed from what she had remembered. He was pretty for a man, some men were. Yet this was not pretty, this form was endowed. She was about to blurt something likely rude out when Shouki brought up the subject first.

"Don't know when you turned into a woman, not that I am complaining. ...Who I am is the wrong question to ask. You have to learn to ask the right questions or you will never get the right answers... For example, I am Shouki. You now have a name, but it does you no good!! Even if I am the only Shouki in the world, congratulations... you know a name!"

"He was the gate-keeper of the Cabal, killed several teams of Jounins independently," Shiori echoed while Shouki's attention was drawn to Isaki. The scene was uncomfortable, Shiori wished she could look in an other direction at the very least but her ears were better than her eyes so she could not look away even if she wanted to. Shiori's legs swung as she struggled to get herself upright, the chair too large and too heavy to submit, Shiori was breathing hard from exertion.

"What is with the tits? ...Not that I am one to complain, hurting women is always more fun. Bad question, I know... but curious enough, I thought I was simply getting weird fetishes in my old age. I have always liked a woman capable of making me feel something... but it is now my turn, I would not be a gentleman otherwise."

Shouki declared. He was a sick man, mad she would say. She had thought that the ANBU in the Obsidian would have killed him when he had the chance. Before Shiori knew it, she was being lifted from the floor. Shiori shifted and struggled as a tingly feeling returned to her hands -- it burned.

"As for you..."

Shouki's face was inches from her own, she could feel his hot breath on her flesh. She tried to head-butt him but assuredly he was able to avoid her 'attack.'

"You try too hard, but more importantly: I would like to know what you are to this 'Sou-Sou' of yours,"

Shiori parted her lips but before she could answer pain shot through her leg in waves as Shouki stabbed her in the thigh. Shiori let out a blood-curdling scream and her fingers and toes curled in her heels as Shouki twisted the weapon already handle-deep in her flesh. "Please... STOP!" Shiori pleaded.

"Who is he? ...I cannot hear you if you do not speak up."

"It hurts!" Shiori cried, tears streaming down the sides of her face. "Ahhhh!" She screamed again as the twisting pick ground against a nerve. Shiori fought against her restrains wildly, but they did not give way. Shouki's hand shot up and wrapped around her narrow neck, holding back Shiori's source of air.

"I am not nearly as patient as my friends you ugly little cunt."

Shouki threatened as Shiori wheezed, struggling to get some air. Shiori's hands gripped the back of her chair, scratching at the metal that did not give way. She could not answer even if she wanted to.

"I am only keeping you both alive because you are worth more alive than dead."

When Shouki relinquished his hold, Shiori greedily took in as much air as her lungs could hold. "My cousin Sousuke is going to kill you," Shiori coughed confident that he would come as she glared at him defiantly. She loved him and she knew that he loved her, he just needed time to realize this. She was wrong of course, it was not he that came to her aid when she fell in the Obsidian but rather Daiki. The others found her defeat inconsequential. "He loves me," Shiori insisted as Shouki had already started to turn away. It was something Shiori needed to hear, even if it was something that she was only telling herself.

Shouki had returned his attention to Isaki again. She did not have much use for his words but she saw the dart in his hand and she saw it being released. She knew the trajectory. She clenched her own eyes tight, she did not want to know. SHE DID NOT WANT TO SEE. Yet she saw it all the same.

WC: 941

MFT

Rakujo Yumeko · Jun 12, 2015

What the...?

As Naikishin had previously asked Shiori who the guy was, she would ask his question back to him. He would sigh near silently before the door had opened, which flooded the room with light. Naikishin would quickly shut his eyes entirely, due to having gone from pitch black to a room that was lit up. He could hear both the stairs as they creaked due to the man walking down them, as well as the water in the bucket sloshing over the side. Naikishin wouldn't start to open his eyes in an attempt to try and get them used to the light until things were set on the table that was within the room. Even though Naikishin would look at the man as he had set the items on the table, he would notice a view downward, but would turn his... or would it be her now that it seems he, or she, noticed that their body had changed.

"I'd love to know how more..." Naikishin would whisper, almost silently to himself... or still, herself. This will get figured out soon enough. Naikishin would soon listen as the man spoke about how he had asked the wrong question. He would sigh again, as he continued on and had soon finished. He would watch Shouki soon grab a tool from the box before the side of the tool slit from his face, moving down his neck before it rested at the most prominent feature of his newly feminine body, which he still didn't know what exactly happened. As Shouki had asked his question, he would withdraw the tool, which would leave more of a tear of where it was, causing it to bleed slightly. A slight inhale could be heard from him when the scratch was caused, in which he would listen to the man as he spoke about how hurting women was always more fun.

"Don't treat me like a woman just because of this!" He would shout as Shouki had moved and sat Shiori's chair back up before asking her a question and immediately punched the pick into the woman's leg. The scream almost echoed throughout the room as he had soon pressed against her throat, compressing her windpipe. Shouki had explained that he was only keeping them alive because they were worth more to him alive than dead.

Though he would soon turn his attention back towards Naikishin before stating that he could wield a sword like no other, or at least to the man anyway. He would watch Shouki pick up a dart off the floor before stating that there was a problem with it. Naikishin's eyes widened as the man held the dart between his fingers, and with a flick of the wrist, had released the dart in his direction. Naikishin couldn't help but watch perilously as the dart flew at him, and would him a moment after the man had released the dart from his fingers.

As the dart had hit Naikishin's right eye, and the moment that it had hit, a near ear piercing scream could be heard, as the pain was something that he had actually never felt before. He would try and move both of his hands to try and get the dart out of his eye, as ocular fluid mixed with a small amount of blood ran down his face. The wire would cut into both of his wrists as he tried to bring his hands to his face and pull out the dart. After a few moments of causing himself more pain by causing the ninja wires to cause him to start bleeding, he would stop, but would be panting heavily as she would lean forward and pull the dart out before dropping it. "You bastard... Just wait until I... get free. You'll pay dearly." He said, still panting as much as he was prior to talking, not really noticing either the blood from the scratch on his chest or even the ocular fluid running down into his shirt. Once this man was taken down and everything, Naikishin would quite enjoy taking a shower. He was already starting to feel dirty from this ordeal...

Sand Council · Jun 12, 2015

Shouki

"My cousin Sousuke is going to kill you. ...He loves me!"

The foolish red-head announced. She only assured her place here in this basement with those words, in a way she also assured that he would not kill her outright but if he had any desire to take any of their lives he would have already done so back in the Obsidian Palace. He would return her to her cousin piece by piece. Perhaps then, finally he would have the battle he worked for. The pain and the fear that was his own, the ultimate honor and glory! Something to challenge his strength and force him to fucking actually give a dam. "Family love is a beautiful thing, strange he barely looked in your direction when you fell so depressingly early in our previous last meeting. Are you sure it is love? I mean, this woman punched you after you were knocked out. I am not sure if there is any love to be had for you," Shouki taunted.

Then someone lost an eye...

"Oops..." Shouki announced with a shrug of his shoulders. He did not look away from the scene, the needle-like rusted end of the dart that pierced Naikishin's right eye. As she thrashed in the chair and let out a cacophony of cries Shouki stood there calmly. "Not sure if removing that is a goo..." Shouki started to warn, his mouth stretched to the side in a cocky manner as he simply stood back and watched the show. Every once in awhile, even if it was unintentional his efforts were rewarded with something neat. The fine wires fractured under the strain of the woman's attempted to free herself, but for the most part the restraints remained intact. The dart came out smoothly as Isaki leaned forward and pulled the projectile from his socket. The dart was like a cork that held the jelly-like ocular fluid in her orbit, with the seal relinquished the clear, thick contents, pink from blood dripped down the side of her face and onto her robes. "Shame," Shouki muttered "such pretty eyes. Red was my favorite color."

"You bastard... Just wait until I... get free. You'll pay dearly."

Shouki let out a low guffaw in response to Isaki's defiant statement. "Pay? Me?" He laughed heartily, his hands bracing the lowest aspect of his stomach. It took him a moment to compose himself. He approached Isaki and rested his hands on top of hers, likely still raw from trying to break free of the wire and pressed down hard. "Darling, I barely touched you and took you down in a four-to-one fight. Do you really think you can make me do anything I do not want to do?" He leaned forward and sniffed her hair before backing away and relinquishing his hold. He was a man used to if nothing else, getting his way.

While his appearance did not suggest that he was a man of wealth, it did tell a tale of a man with physical power. A man who did not mind pain and in fact embraced it. There was much more to this man it would seem, this man who did not flee the village when given the opportunity but rather elected to play a 'game.' He was the kind of man that liked his games, or so it would seem. Everything that has been said of him can only be assumed due to experience. Perhaps he was a mad-man, would a sane one stay in a village where the military leadership wants you dead? Would they willingly take hostages to fuel these flames of hatred? No -- but Shouki's intellect suggested he was more than the brawn of this group and that he was brilliant if people were to heed Sousuke's warning.

"Two questions pretty lady," Shouki announced as he took a seat on the table alongside his implements. "Answer them to my satisfaction and... this could be over for you," Shouki explained. "I mean, I can be a nice guy. I do nice things... for the right people," Shouki added as his exposed his teeth. A row of sharpened teeth, each appearing to be painstakingly filed to a point. "...or I can do terrible things and continue to make you scream, your choice," Shouki shrugged as if he was asking Isaki if we would rather have Chinese food or Indian for dinner. He leaned towards the floor and picked up a second dart and blew off the dust. He fondled the curious implement between his fingers, it was somewhat heavy and slightly dulled from likely use over the years.

"One -- who are you. Not your name... not your village... but who are you?" Shouki asked as he spun the dart and released it in Isaki's direction. Thankfully Shouki was not a dart player, he would have lost, This time he actually was aiming for her eye, her other eye that is and missed. Rather, the dart landed in Naikishin's breast. Dammit, Shouki mouthed.

"Two -- riddle me this: what has only one eye and cannot see?" Shouki queried, taking a fresh spool of ninja wire from his case.

Michi · Jun 12, 2015

The pick lingered in the flesh of her thigh, it really did not hurt anymore. As long as she did not move and as long as the pick was not moved, her nerves had decided to cohabit with the foreign implement. Her hands were tightly bound as were her legs. Her bare ankles were crossed one over the other and tightly united. She could not muster the physical force necessary to break her ties. They cut into her skin as she shifted and struggled, leaving her wrists and ankles raw. Her stilettos gave her an additional few inches in length but it failed to be enough to even touch the floor, not that it would make a great difference for her.

"Family love is a beautiful thing, strange he barely looked in your direction when you fell so depressingly early in our previous last meeting. Are you sure it is love? I mean, this woman punched you after you were knocked out. I am not sure if there is any love to be had for you."

Shouki notified her. The color left Shiori's face when she heard what he had to say. He did not care? He did not respond? She basically let herself go down trying to heal him first. Sand escaped from the corners of her eyes as she began to weep quietly, her face cast downward. 'He loves me' she insisted, the words meant for herself. The words she needed to hear. The words she needed to believe. "I don't believe you," Shiori declared, despite the lingering doubts in her own heart. She knew that her sentiments towards Sousuke were utterly unrequited, but she had hoped that there was something there. An infinitesimal chance. A diminutive spark of hope. Something to suggest that the visions she had for a future with him were not merely fantasies. Part of her always knew that they were unequally yolked -- her love would never be reflected from him and only absorbed or rejected. Yet still, there was an ache within her heart and her soul if an Ancient did in fact have one as her heart was breaking.

A small pile of sand had begun to form on her lap, her cheeks and dress coated in a fine layer of dust. As Shouki released the dart, she knew where it was going to land almost immediately. She clenched her eyes closed but she could not bring her hands to her ears. She could not block out the image, the image she heard with such clarity. The sickening pop of the orbit, the shrill feminine scream that left her ears ringing. She could hear the snap of the ninja-wire as it stretched broke from the strain, but still held fast. "Don't!" Shiori warned as Isaki pulled the dart from his... her own eye, ensuring the loss of sight from her right. Shiori looked away, despite the scene remaining clear in her mind's eye. Burned now into her memories.

Shouki asked the strange woman a pair of questions, threatening to release a second dart. As he twisted his wrist Shiori's heel tapped the leg of her chair. The ground under Shouki shifted ((Gravel Shift: Mastered)), hopefully enough... yes enough to divert the second dart.

Shouki was going to kill them, it seemed like a certainty at this point. He might not even do it on purpose, their pain was nothing more than a game for him. He was insane. Shiori was not entirely limited sitting in that chair, even without her hands or her legs she still had the power and the strength of her call and her song. Underutilized, a skill that was inhuman and dangerous in other ways. She was safer here, that being a sad truth for a woman who did not fear death but did in a way pain. She would have rather died on that battlefield than be trapped within one of Sousuke's blades and due to that apprehension she could never tell him everything. It was ironic how much she both loved and feared the Steward and how she was slowly growing to hate him as well. Today she needed to survive. Using Shiori's Enthralling Voice, she started to sing a hymn. Her soprano voice cascaded through the notes of what would be an unfamiliar but ancient song. A melody that has not escaped her lips in centuries as she created an illusion that mimicked the real world. An illusion were everything is as it was except for one important fact: Shiori and Isaki's bindings were gone. Casting (( Mental Kombat)) on both Shouki and Naikishin.

Rakujo Yumeko · Jun 12, 2015

Naikishin listened to the man as he leached when he told him that he would pay once he got free. He would growl as the man had told him that he barely touched him and took him down in a four v one fight. He would continue to pant. Shouki would state that he had two questions, and that if he had answered them to his satisfaction, that this could be over for him. In this situation, Naikishin could only think of one thing that Shouki could mean by 'this being over for him'. Death.

"Will you quit referring to me as that?" Naikishin said, under his breath as Shouki had asked his questions. His eye that wasn't damaged would widen as she noticed that he was preparing to throw another dart at him, but the moment it was about to leave his fingers, something had happened and he seemed to lose his balance for a second, which would change where the dart was going to hit. As the small object had flown towards her, and had eventually hit her. This time the dart had hit him in the abdomen. There was a quick gasp out of pain.

He wouldn't say anything regarding Shouki's questions, and had soon heard Shiori start to sing. After a moment, he would notice that his bindings were gone and would quickly stand up, and attempt to strike Shouki, but the fact that he had trouble staying upright, due to having lost the eye and not having adequate knowledge of this before to try and stay balanced. He would crash to the floor, having forgotten and quickly remembered the dart that had hit him mere moments ago. Even with whatever had caused this change, Naikishin's body couldn't handle much due to the beating as well as the loss of an eye, for the time being.

Sand Council · Jun 12, 2015

Shouki

The scene was simple, a room with no windows or doors. The walls, the same dull shade of cream sullied with age and likely gore. The chairs were gone, their bindings disappeared. A sword back in the woman's hand. His brain burned as he looked at them both, standing there absolutely fine. There was this song, lingering in the twilight in the back of his mind. The rolling consonants and the shrill crescendos. He did not understand the words, but he did know that the self-proclaimed Medic was a songstress. She had tried to manipulate her party before with her silver tongue, something he would have thought she would not be foolish enough as to try.

CANCEL

Not that it was normal for one to be able to overcome such a high level genjutsu, when it came to one's weakness it was never fool-hardy to master a defense against your weakest spots. The image melted away before his eyes, everything seemed darker in reality. His two lady guests packaged up nice and neat, the way he liked them. His toys still neatly boxed on the table. The swords-woman's weapon nestled safely away... somewhere. Shouki moved deceptively quick, cupping his hand over Shiori's mouth and nose as he pressed the back of her head against the chair. "Singing hurts," Shouki growled, his brow furrowed and a large vein on the side of his neck engorged. His voice dripped with venom, he hated it when people underestimated his intelligence even if he was purposefully trying to portray himself as the 'dangerous fool.' She had already tried to use this trick once, well use something similar that involved her voice. She was able to invoke something in others with her word.

His knee pressed down on her lap, shifting the placement of the ice pick in her flesh - a happy accident as his intent was to prevent the chair from crashing over as he silenced the medic. "You really think I am that fucking stupid!" He shouted inches from her face as he ripped away her right sleeve with his left hand from her collar and wadded it into a ball. "I know full well that there is no reason for you to break into some shitty aria. Chew on this!" He relinquished his hold over her face and crammed the cloth in her mouth as Shiori gasped for air and wrapped the conveniently in hand ninja wired over top. Staring into her blue eyes he reminded her: "This is MY game! These are MY rules!" Shouki's face was red, he was actually quite cross. "You already tried that trick once," Shouki reminded her. The last time she 'fought', the term being used broadly to describe her efforts of course she broke into song then as well. It did not take hold, more a moment of fortune than preparedness on his part. He took his knee off of Shiori's legs and grabbed hold of the deeply embedded ice pick and ripped it out of her in a single stroke. Covered in red grit, crimson sand poured from Shiori's open wound. Shouki slammed the pick down into the other thigh hard enough that he could hear a *ping* as the metallic tip hit the chair on the other side of her thigh.

"Thankfully all I needed to know in your case was who you are, rather than what," Shouki explained. The downward motion of this pick and the tactile sensation of breaking through flesh washed Shouki with a sense of calm as he backed away from Shiori. He was mad, it was hard to regain control when he felt like seeing what her insides looked like. He needed her alive, not healthy and not intact, but he did need her alive for now. Killing her would help his cause more than certainly, but holding her fate and her safety over their head was a better driving force. She would lose herself bit by bit, each part being sent out in a little box.

Shouki took in a deep cleansing breath as he turned back to Isaki. "So, what should I quit referring to you as?" Shouki asked as he leaned over Naikishin's chair. He started to pace behind the swords-woman, stopping when he was directly behind her. His large hands wrapped around the high back chair as he looked downward from above. He lifted the bucket he dropped off in the room when he first entered and carried it without a word in front of Isaki. The 'bucket' was more like a metal barrel upon literal examination. About three feet in height and filled almost to the brim with ice-water.

Shouki tipped the chair forward with a single arm, allowing the bottom of Isaki's ribs to crash against the metal side of the bucket. He was not asking a question, he had already asked it once. Shouki's hand reached behind hers and grabbed a handfull of her white hair as he pushed Naikishin's face into the frigid water and held it there. Shouki looked back at Shiori and consoled her, "do not worry... you will get your turn soon enough." He continued to hold Isaki's face underwater, the thrashing a good sign that she was still alive as he tested the limit of the woman's endurance. He relinquished his hold, but only for a moment. Long enough for Isaki to raise her head up and gulp a lungful of air before he submerged her a second time. He did not wait quite as long the second time before he allowed her to take a breath. "Let's try this again, honey..." Shouki whispered into Naikishin's ear as he allowed the chair to rock back to all fours. "WHO are you?"

Michi · Jun 12, 2015

Shiori manufactured the scene, they were capable here. Capable of standing toe-to-toe against that monster. She was old enough to recognize some tricks, such as the fact that he was a practitioner of Jashinism. She did not believe in God, or gods if one would take such a leap of faith. It was blood magic that tethered them, or at least that was her opinion. Physical anguish was shared between the practitioner and their victims. Some even went as far as to claim immortality. She felt that humans and some Ancients gave Jashin far too much credit, that there was no such thing as gods but rather demons capable of maintaining pacts much like she was capable of altering the lineage of an entire family through a single man. If he died in his mind, he would die in the world as well. The mind was a fickle thing - reality molded by perception more than fact.

She felt a blow-back, her illusion crumbled as Shouki realized the false reality she manifested. She parted her pale dry lips again and tried to weave a new poem, something to cloud his mind's eye and see what she willed him to see. Something to buy herself and the man-woman some time. Before she could complete her first verse, Shouki's hand was over her mouth. Her song muffled, Shiori's eyes widened as he silenced her. His hand crept upward, cutting off her air as well. Shiori shook her head violently, she attempted to twist away. Her hands still behind her back, knotted behind the back of the chair.

"Singing hurts."

Shouki announced, anger for the first time in his voice. Shiori's heart hastened as she struggled to breathe. His fingers brushed against her right arm. She tried to retract from him but she had nowhere to go. She let out a muffled scream that went dull as his knee pressed against the ice pick that impaled her leg. Her eyes watered as he shouted.

"You really think I am that fucking stupid!"

He tore away a part of her dress. Her right sleeve tore easily and he wadded the scrap he recovered into a ball. Shiori's lungs burned for air, her face turning purple as her eyes started to glaze. "I am going to die now," Shiori thought to herself. "I am going to die in this chair, unseen and forgotten," her mind warned her. Her life was too long to flash before her eyes and she had lived many lives before this one and died a great many deaths. She did not fear it, she never did as it was an eventuality she accepted but the pains of death were something else entirely. The searing pain she felt in her leg. The hunger in her lungs, desperate for breath. The painful throbbing of her heart as it raced on, but had begun to slow. She did not want to die. she never did when her time came, but this time was different. She was human or at least she was human in more ways than not. She was attached to things that would be long gone by the time she lived again. She had reasons to live, times were constantly changing rather than the static state of events she experienced for over a millennium.

"I know full well that there is no reason for you to break into some shitty aria. Chew on this!"

The seal his hand made over her face was broken. Shiori greedily filled her longs with the stale dank air, as the rag that was once a part of her dress filled her mouth. Shiori's nostrils flared, still air-hungry. She tried to push out the cloth with her tongue as a length of wire was wrapped around her face, securing the wadded scrap in place. Shiori shook her head and glared at him defiantly as he reminded her of the state of the game.

"This is MY game! These are MY rules!"

The sociopath declared. Shiori could not make a verbal response, she could only look into those golden eyes through her furrowed brow. Her chest heaved as she continued to fight for her air, he was heavy and he was actively hurting her. The ice pick in her leg grated against bone.

"You already tried that trick once."

He reminded her as he peeled himself away. Her leg throbbed, but it was a dull sensation. As if her body was foolishly sending too much blood to her broken parts. He pulled the pick from her leg, and the torrid agony she felt was overwhelming. Her back arched and she let out a muted scream. Sandy tears escaped from her eyes and scarlet sand poured from her leg, spilling onto the floor. She sucked in several pained breaths through the cloth, her eyes widened as Shouki continued, undeterred or distracted.

"Thankfully all I needed to know in your case was who you are, rather than what."

He was likely commenting on her blood, a curious anomaly that could be explained with what or even who if he knew the right question to ask. Perhaps the answers to some questions are less necessary than others. Shiori's eyes widened and she shook her head side to side to say 'no' as he plunged the metal rod through her other leg. Fresh pain coupled with old pain as Shiori choked on her cry. Then Shouki seemed to be interested in his 'other friend,' was it a terrible thing to admit that she felt relieved? She shivered with pain as she watched in silence as Shouki moved the bucket.

Rakujo Yumeko · Jun 12, 2015

Naikishin watched everything that Shouki had done to Shiori, showing little emotion aside from panting, not yet having forgotten about the dart that was impaling her in her abdomen, and had soon heard Shouki ask him what should he quit referring to him as. "Quit referring to me as a woman." He said, his panting slightly lessening. He would also soon notice that the man had lifted the metal bucket, or calling it a barrel would be better, due to its height.

He would soon feel Shouki pull the chair up and would tip the chair forward, which he would be partially become emerged in the ice water. Aside from just being submerged in the water, it was forceful enough for his chest to crash into the side of the bucket. He tried to hold his breath for as long as he could, but crashing against the side of the bucket caused a chain reaction of him taking in water slightly. He felt his hand on the back of his head, which was holding his head in the water, thrashing around, as well as causing her arms to get cut again by the wired which bound her arms. After a moment, Shouki would kill his head up for long enough to get a single gulp of air before submerging her once more in the water. Luckily for him, it was for quite a bit less time than the first in which she would cough a bit as the chair was rocked back to all four legs being on the floor.

Naikishin listened to Shouki when he whispered into his ear once more. "You really want to know know who I am? All I am is a monster..." He would say, dropping forward, panting heavier than he was earlier, due to the water treatment. "As for your... riddle... what's the answer? I've wracked my brain and I can't figure it out." He would ask, still leaning forward, panting heavily.

Sand Council · Jun 13, 2015

Shouki

"Quit referring to me as a woman."

Naikishin complained. Shouki's eyes cast downward at his cleavage. "Sure thing, sir." Shouki complied. He spun around and grabbed a knife from the table. It was not particularly large but it did appear sharp. "And they call me crazy," he mused as he also recovered a pair of twisted pliers. "At least I know what I am," he commented.

"You really want to know know who I am? All I am is a monster..."

"That is not an answer... that is what you think you are," Shouki answered as he crashed Naikishin back into the bucket. The pail dented on impact as he submerged his head in the water. He turned and looked at Shiori as he pushed Isaki's head deeper into the barrel. "If HE is a monster, what does that make me?" He laughed, his eyes bright. He released Isaki's head and allowed the chair to teeter back. As the legs became grounded Shouki towered over his captive. Confident in his posture he leaned forward, a finger or rather several under her... or better said his jaw as he lifted Isaki's countenance to face his. "There is no reward for stubbornness, not here anyways," he stated almost tenderly.

"I..." He started, as he rested the flat of the blade against her... or rather his upper arm. "Can hurt you..." The blade turned, the razor-like edge facing down as he pressed against Isaki's robe and the tender flesh beneath. "In ways you have yet to fathom..." He ran the blade downward, cutting into her... his arm deeply. Several inches and deep enough to leave a life-long scar without shinobi voodoo, he stopped. "Or, we can have some fun," he offered as he dropped the blade into his... or her lap. "Strong women have always made me tingle," he sneered. While that could be taken as a sexual request, it was actually one for a different kind of fun. Some could find pleasure and release in carnal passions, he however was not among them. This was proven true years ago when he slaughtered the whorehouse he was a patron of (Refer to Naganisa's story). Women were fun to look at, beautiful creatures when in motion or when turned inside out, but there was something hollow and shallow about such ends. It had been done countless times by him, each wonderful in its own way but utterly dull. A true challenge, that was a rare gem. Something he planned to experience again. Something he had to find if he ever wanted to know ecstasy. He was not going to find that with these two, but it was his hope that they would be the catalyst. Until then, there was only one pleasure he found secondarily. He blamed his mother for that - this cerebral authority, this perverse love of games and manipulation even if it was not wholly for his benefit.

"As for your... riddle... what's the answer? I've wracked my brain and I can't figure it out."

Shouki moved in close to Isaki's ear, his hot breath could be felt on his neck as he answered Isaki's query. "A needle..." Shouki quipped.

Shiori, the possibly silent spectator he would pay no heed to unless she made a sound. Any sound, it did not matter if it was a muffled shout or a stifled protest or the clamoring clumsy attempt at freedom. If anything, any sound was made he would simply recover the dart from Isaki's gut and with the flick of a wrist he would launch the dart in Shiori's general direction. "Not your turn," he would mutter.

Michi · Jun 13, 2015

There was not much for Shiori to do. Her hands tightly bound behind her back, cooled by the metallic chair. Her legs crossed at the ankle, heels dangling inches above the floor. Screaming would not accomplish anything, it was more the habitual response to pain and distress than a plea for help. Her throat already sore and both of her legs throbbing. Her throat felt tight, it was already bruising from where Shouki's hands wrapped around her neck. She pulled her hands apart, or at least she tried to.

What she did not understand was his game. Was he just simply a madman? Madmen don't have causes. Madmen do not care about answers. Knowing -who- they are so he knew where their value was. Hers was not found in her death it would seem, but in her discontent. She felt like a means to an end rather than an actual goal, a second thought at best in this scene. Shiori curled her fingers inward, she attempted to unwind the wire. The knots were too tight, they made a faint *ting* that she could barely hear. She let out a disgruntled huff of air as she continued to contort her fingers and reach the terminal point of her bindings.

That seemed to be all he needed to hear as he plucked the dart off the ground and flung the tiny projectile in her general direction. It pierced her collar, of the things he had already done that was decidedly the least painful. Pain was something that quickly became a dull ache, something that became easy to ignore without variant or new stimulus. Trepidation, however of pain was a continual state. How often that was true, the anticipation of agony was worse than the actual affliction? The moment the pain was granted, it burned like a furnace but the coals quickly grew cold. What bothered her was not the pick in her leg, the hole in the other or the dart in her collar. It was the sense of loss, the sense of rejection and the revelation that she was an obligation without passion. It had been a one-way street for a long time. This affection and this desperate need to hang on, but in turn who would miss her. Who would remember her? So far she had fallen from grace, with a new identity forged and her previous relegated to the annals of history what she was at her pinnacle of power was perhaps a fluke. Being Queen was not a birthright or a state one becomes through merit, but rather through luck and the will or recognition of others. In this life she was just a girl, a girl who could do nothing right. Could not possess the heart of the man she loved. Could not even consider being what she was by nature for fear of the ultimate rejection.

She was not in pain... she was simply filled with fear.

Rakujo Yumeko · Jun 15, 2015

Naikishin listened to the man as he had spoke, saying that at least he knew what he was. A slight growl could be heard coming from Naikishin, before he had heard Shouki tell him that is what he thought he was. He had soon felt that his head was once again pushed into the water. He would thrash again, not much noticing that the barrel had dented this time. He didn't much pay attention to what was said as his main focus was not letting too much water into his lungs, in which he would start coughing once the chair was allowed to teeter back and his head was longer emerged.

He would soon hear the man state that he could heart him in ways that he had yet to fathom, though as he spoke, he would rest the flat of the blade against his upper arm, turn the blade so that the razor-like edge was facing down so that it was pressed against the sleeve of his clothing along with the skin beneath, and would run the blade down his arm, deep enough for it to leave a scar. Though, at the moment the blade had pierced his skin, a stifled groan could be heard coming from him. As the man had offered the fact that the two of them could have some fun, he would exhale as the blade was dropped in his lap, and Shouki continued to say that strong women had always made him tingle. Another growl was could be heard coming from him as he resumed panting.

He would continue to pant as the man moved in and gave the answer to the riddle he had asked earlier, in a way that she could feel his breath on his neck. "I shouldn't be surprised that this is fun for you..." He would say, panting still. "What else does someone as twisted as you find fun? Considering I didn't even know the word 'fun' could be used in any situation like this." He said, taking a few moments to pant, even though he was doing so while talking. Hell, you've just turned my world upside down. I never thought I'd ever be tortured. At least you're easy to figure out after a single fight..." He would say, his back now actually touching the back of the chair, and looking at the man with the unharmed eye he had.

Sand Council · Jun 16, 2015

OC:

Isaki Naikishin said:
He would soon hear the man state that he could heart him in ways that he had yet to fathom

Yes... yes I could.

IC:

Shouki

The swords(wo)man was a stubborn one. With a single eye, some minor puncture wounds and on the verge of drowning (s)he was still unwilling to answer even the most rudimentary of questions. He pulled Naikishin in and out of the ice bath once again, bringing him/her to the surface with his left arm which grasped Isaki's hair. His fingers laced between cotton-like strands he maintained his hold as he pushed Isaki's face deep into the water.The frigid water was enough to turn the lips of even the most warm-blooded (wo)man blue. The chair rocked back and forth as Shouki relinquished his grasp. Isaki's wet white hair clung to his/her head and the sides of his/her face. There was something beautiful about women in pain, something surreal.

"I shouldn't be surprised that this is fun for you..."

Naikinshin huffed. Shouki fondled the pliers the had acquired in his right hand as he listened to the shinobi's defiant question.

"What else does someone as twisted as you fond fun? Considering I didn't even know the word 'fun" could be used in a situation like this."

Shouki's hand rested under Naikishin's jaw as he guided the swords(wo)man's face to his own, forcibly if necessary. His golden eyes met Naikishin's single eye, Shouki took pause before he replied. "Macramé, crocheting and dune boarding," Shouki whispered before he added. "But I should add, you only say that because you are in the chair. When someone else is in your place, so helpless and confined. Indignant only because they must hide their pain and fear. When it is your turn, you will feel something terrible yet beautiful within you. When you finally embrace and release that 'monster' you claim you are from within... you will finally feel a release. You will understand my fun... For a time," he added cryptically as his hand relinquished Naikishin's jaw. It was true, it is when one is in such a state as this that they learn to fear restraint and yearn for strength. The festering wrath and hate within them projected in all the wrong... yet right places. That need to never be weak again, a physiological necessity as important as air. This was the start, it always was the start. But after a time, when one has found as many successes as he there is a need for something more. Everything is cyclical in a way one could suppose, but enough of this philosophical musing.

"Hell, you've just turned my world upside down. I never thought I'd be tortured. At least you're easy to figure out after a single fight..."

Shouki stood upright, stretching his arms over his head as he leaned to either side. "True, but what sort of 'game' would this be without a 'trick'. Pray-tell, what is it you think you know." Shouki inquired as he leaned in front of Naikishin, resting his hands on top of Naikishin's. His right hand was still occupied with a tool. "I know that you are barely more than a brawler, you know how to hit things HARD and as you have demonstrated here... You have an excellent tolerance to pain." Shouki's left hand pressed down on Isaki's right hard, as Shouki lifted his other hand still occupied by a pair of pliers and grabbed hold of Isaki's index nail with the jaw of the pliers and with no additional warning pulled the nail from the nail bed in a single harsh tug. "Your hands are your mist important asset, more-so than your legs or even an eye." Shouki explained in a cold tone. "If you were capable of a doujutsu, possessed an uncanny skill to defend yourself when physically restrained. You could be holding back, but for what ends? A hero to rescue you? For the bindings to break under your own strength? For me to tire of causing you pain?"

Shouki dropped the bloodied fingernail onto the floor and grasped with the blunt tip of the pliers Isaki's smallest fingernail of the same hand. "Again I ask you, who...are...you...?" Shouli slowly pulled out this nail, pulling ever so slightly more with each word until it broke free. Shouki raised his brow as he dropped the nail, he was looking for an answer. Answers were necessary for a man such as Shouki so that he could assign value. Everyone had a value, a stance most would not expect from a man such as Shouki - a self-proclaimed madman whose actions support this stance. However, beneath this facade was a specific kind of sociopath, the kind that liked to play games and the kind that wanted a 'real fight' but not to satisfy his boredom or his curiosity.

Then there was a knock at the door...

Michi · Jun 16, 2015

Shouki was distracted, Isaki being the more interesting victim perhaps. Shiori still could not do anything. The wires that held her gag in place bit into her cheeks. The ninja wire that bound her wrists and ankles was cutting into her, she could feel the fine trickle of sand between her fingers as she shifted and pulled. She listened in silence as she watched that madman touch Isaki, the word-choice distressing her as she listened. What was happening made no sense, not really when you came right down to it. He could have killed them, but he did not. Rather he took on a four man group alone and was victorious and as for the spoils he took prisoners. Why antagonize someone he has already defeated? Why physically assault herself and the stranger - some sick pleasure? Perhaps, but he could have taken anyone including the Steward himself and if domination was his desire why not dominate the 'strongest' among them?

He seemed to desire defeat or at least the chance thereof, yet from where she sat it did not seem like a likely outcome. In fact the way she saw it the only way Sousuke would succeed would be if Shouki threw the match. Sousuke's fighting style was a terrible choice to utilize against a man capable of reflecting physical pain. Similar could be said of the swordsman who shared this torture chamber with her. Isaki claimed to know his secret and Shiori's eyes widened when he made this brave announcement and she shook her head violently to the side to signify 'no'. She had a guess as well, she recognized the blood seal on the ground: a crude reinterpretation of an old religion she recalled from her youth that translated physical distress into pain manifest for all those tethered by such a bond. It had its weaknesses and for a man who relished pain, his response towards her attempt to cast an illusion with her voice was met with irritation.

There was something more going on, and thus far she was being overlooked. A likely fleeting state, but it was unlikely she was truly forgotten although she wondered why he had taken such a keen interest in Isaki. It was worrisome, but she did not take long to ponder. She tried to not makes sound, she even held her breath as she pulled again against her restraints. Her shoulders were stiff and sore with her arms pulled so tightly behind her. This was going to hurt. She could no longer weave a poem with her torn dress in her mouth nor could she complete the array of handseals necessary to perform a jutsu with her hands tied behind the chair but she had an encyclopedic knowledge of the elements and not every technique required handseals. She took a few breaths through flared nares in psychological preparation and bit down HARD on the rag that filled her mouth. She held her breath as electricity surged through her body. It felt as if she was struck by lightning, in fact if she had she would not have been able to tell the difference.

It Hurt...

It hurt so bad....

Tears formed and rolled down her face, like glitter the sand that escaped her eyes. Her lungs hungered for air but she did not dare take a breath for fear that she might cry out and alert Shouki. The electrical activity persisted and then she felt her first *snap*. The wires were starting to break but they were also blistering hot. She could smell her own burning flesh as she bit down harder on the gag, but her binds were finally breaking. The energy arced and sparked from her, causing her hair to stand on end. Her muscles contracted and contorted from the electrical impulse involuntarily but had no place to go. She was reaching the limit of her own endurance when the wires about her wrists and ankles went slack and fell away. Her wrists and ankles were burned where the wires were in contact with her bare skin leaving raw red lines marking where she was held. Her hands shot to her mouth as she immediately stood upright and unraveled the wire that was wrapped around her head and knotted in her hair. She did not care as she ripped out a clump of her own hair rather than taking her time to gingerly remove the wire. Her hands and feet felt painfully numb from her tight restraints recently removed. She fumbled with the wire, finally setting her mouth free as she spat the rag out onto the floor. Her jaw hurt, it was stiff as she took in a deep triumphant breath. She felt parched, a glass of water was what she wanted second only to her freedom as she took a staggering step forward with numb feet. She reached for something, anything she could find on the table: a knife, a hammer, hell even a spork. She grasped a flat-faced hammer that was deceptively heavy with both hands.

She came up from behind Shouki, hammer in hand as he asked Isaki once again who he was. The knock on the door came, immediately thereafter and her hammer came crashing down.

Rakujo Yumeko · Jun 16, 2015

Naikishin continued to thrash in the water every time Shouki decided to dunk him into the barrel of water. Once the man had finished doing do, he would cough up the water that had soon entered his lungs again. Though as the man started to respond to his questions, he took what the man had said with a grain of salt, but the man would soon whisper something to him, in which it was quite cryptic and Daiki's mind wouldn't catch it too quickly as he had to focus on other things. After he finished speaking though, his hand had let go of his jaw. He would continue to pant.

Though after he had spoke once more, Shouki would speak yet again, saying that this sort of 'game' would it be without a sort of 'trick'. And he had soon pressed down on his right hand hard after speaking and soon pulling the nail from his right index find right from from the nail bed, and by doing so, blood started to drip from where the nail used to sit. The man would state that his hands were his most valuable asset, more so than his legs and even and eye. Though when Shouki had ripped the nail from where it was, Naikishin couldn't stifle it which cause it to be quite an audible scream. After he had screamed in pain, his breathing that was just him panting, now included a slight trembling, but now out of fear.

As Shouki had dropped the fingernail he just pulled out, he would grasp the smallest nail on the hand and pulled it out slowly as the man had asked him who he was. As the nail was pulled out, Naikishin couldn't do anything but scream. It was more so than the one earlier, but not quite bloodcurdling. Either way it would be a scream but he would answer due to the specific pain. His right hand was shaking slightly as he spoke now. "I'm from a dead village! If that's not what you want, then I don't have a fucking clue!" He would say, quite quickly due to the pain, before hearing a knock on the door right as he had finished speaking. But before anything else could happen after it, Shiori had come over with a hammer and smash it down towards Shouki's head. Naikishin wouldn't be able to do much else, his lips still slightly blue from being dunked in the water, as well as all of the pain that he has experience left him unable to do much of anything for the time being.

Sand Council · Jun 16, 2015

Shouki

"Busy," Shouki called from his seat before Isaki, irritation laced his voice to the door. "The turn-down service here sucks," Shouki confided. "I always thought a scythe hanging from the door handle was the universal sign for 'do not disturb',[/color][/b] he quipped. The rapping persisted through a second series of knocks and Shouki let out a disgruntled sigh as he looked at Isaki who was finally talking after experiencing enough pain. "Dead village, eh?" He leaned forward, his interest piqued. "There are so many dead villages, I have killed a few myself" Shouki added as the gears in his own mind started to turn. There were old shinobi villages such as Kirigakure and Kohonagakure, both recently decimated for different reasons that appeared almost concurrent, but those shinobi villages were not alone, Wind Country due to the three-decade long maelstrom had also hosted a plethora of lost communities in the recent past. Looking at this (wo)man and how she was able to endure him, it could be assumed that (s)he came from a shinobi community. That was far from conclusive to, but where and which one really did not matter but rather his relative value. Pliers in hand, he tapped the jaw-end off Naikishin's exposed cleavage as he asked a more specific question, "tell me then: what are you doing in yet another terminal village?" He was of course referring to Sunagakure. If everything goes according to plan, then Sunagakure would be nothing more than a distant memory in the coming years. The Cabal's incursion was not the actual attack but rather a test-run with disposable men. It was almost boring of course because that nothing-group of treasure-hunters and demon-hunters almost won, they held the city in the grip of fear and submission for nearly three days. Shouki reached for Naikishin's belt with his left, relinquishing the pressure he had placed on Isaki's now likely pained hand and gave it a pull.

It was then that the hammer came crashing down...

It would be too much to claim that he saw stars, but his sight turned blinding white for a mere moment. Would it be foolish to assume that Shiori would stop with a single strike or continue with several in a maddened frenzy. Shouki reached behind himself without looking and caught Shiori's wrist in his hand. He hurled the small woman over his shoulder and into Naikishin. The chair would likely topple over from the impact. He would peel Shiori off Isaki by pulling at her hair. The woman had already shown her hand early in the game, that was her mistake. Otherwise she might have had a chance. As he pulled her up by her long red hair, his hand cupped over her mouth. He might have enjoyed the way she screamed, but he did not feel the same way about her singing. His hand would unravel itself from her hair and wrap around her waist to pin her arms to her sides. "Tch" Shouki hissed into her ear as he pressed her back into his body. "I should be offended -- did you really think a strike to the head would be enough to stop me?" Despite the poor attempt, he found the attempt refreshing from the monotony, it was likely that Shiori could feel his excitement press into her back in fact.

The knocking resumed. Whoever wanted inside was persistent but polite. "BUSY!" Shouki shouted, his word coming out in a growl.

Shouki tightened his hold on Shiori as he turned them both to face the barrel. Shouki paused as if he wanted to say something but chose not to. His hand left Shiori's face and returned to her hair. He grabbed a handful close to her scalp. With a rough, unforgiving motion he plunged her face and most of her upper body into the ice bath. She would likely struggle, that was to be expected. They always fight. To nearly his deltoid in the ice bath, his arm almost felt numb. This was not the same as what he had done to Isaki, he did not lift her from the bucket as she started to slow rather he waited until she went limp in his arms before he pulled her from the ice barrel and dropped her onto the floor. She would not be dead, he had no intention of killing his playthings... for now. He did have a terrible habit of breaking his toys, but father always said that if he took better care of them and did not kill them than he would have them longer.

A rattling could be heard in the lock as the deadbolt started to slide to the side. It was enough to cause Shouki to take pause. "Too early for the cavalry and I was just starting to have my fun," Shouki muttered out loud as he readjusted his pants and recovered his giant blade from the wall. "You?" Shouki's eyes widened as the door opened to reveal the unknown visitor. He lowered his weapon and pointed it at Isaki instead.

Michi · Jun 16, 2015

With shaking hands, she sent the hammer crashing down on Shouki's head. Her fingers clumsy and numb still from her restraints she did not know if she could manage the seals necessary for an attack. Her hammer hit him, even Shiori was surprised when it actually hit her target. She swung again, her heart racing. Perhaps this was their chance to get away. Without even looking in her direction his hand wrapped around her wrist. His grip was as tight as the wire he had bound her with, perhaps even more-so. He pulled at her, her shoulder felt like it was going to snap as he yanked her over his shoulder and crashed her into Isaki. Isaki had taken the brunt of the beatings thus far, bloodier than she and her landing was far from graceful. Her elbow landing where his groin was, there was at east a minor benefit to Isaki's mysterious transformation. Her knee might have struck Isaki in the face, but it was hard for her to tell the difference, all she could say for sure was that Naikishin was not someone you wanted to land on if you desired a comfortable landing.

"Are you OK?" Shiori asked more out of habit than anything else. The answer should have been a resounding 'no' he was the victim of torture, his eye was gone and he had sustained several injuries that were greater than her own.

Shouki then pulled at her hair, Shiori let out a scream as she struggled to face him. Her cry was cut short before she could try to sing. Her protests muffled as her back arched and tried to avoid Shouki's hold over her. He was much larger than she was, his arm wrapped around her easily despite her struggles. Her hands were trying to complete a seal before they were ripped apart, the room rocked as an incomplete gust of win never converted to song was released. Her stilettos scraped at the ground as he pulled her against himself. Shouki was enjoying his hold, she could... tell. Her foot stomped down on Shouki's as she resisted his attempt to move them, a muffled cry was released as he twisted them both around. She knew exactly where he was taking her, he did not need to say a word. She could feel his hot stale breath against he skin as he said.

"Tch... I should be offended -- did you really think a strike to the head would be enough to stop me?"

A shiver went down Shiori's spine when he said that. She continued to kick and thrash and even bite at his hand. He eventually relinquished his grasp over her mouth but it was not a happy circumstance and she knew it. "No!" She cried as her face and upper body were submerged in the ice water. The water was so cold it burned. The chunks of ice had not entirely melted and rattled against the metallic sides of the barrel. His fingers knotted into her hair, she bucked and fought bringing her head close to the surface but never free. Her lungs burned desperately for air, her entire body hurt but she fought to maintain consciousness. If she passed out she would probably die, it was likely only a delay in her death and a prolonging of her agony if she did not but she had a reason to live. But reason, desire and drive were not always enough. She continued to try but movement became harder, weaker. Her knees buckled as she fell limp in Shouki's arm. The dying breath one would take to ensure their fate underwater was never taken as he pulled the unfortunate woman from the water. She was a ghastly pale hue, her lips cyan and her torn dress soaked, dyed slightly pink from the blood in the barrel.

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