Korn

[Michi]

The Black Bazaar is decidedly the worst place in all of Suna. Anything you could want on the black market can be purchased for the right price down this main road. All the stalls are not what they seem and the center of the drug problem starts here. There are several gangs who run the black bazaar as though it were their territory.​

The journey was without incident, her trudging steps down narrow, twisting subterranean paths and through massive caverns that seemed to mimic the very celestial spaces they were separated from. She did get the occasional stare, impolite finger pointed in her direction and even the occasional Samaritan-like offer for assistance. She would deny their offers, her story changing slightly as she passed them all by. Just enough so that no further questions would be asked, she was not heading towards the hospital but rather towards the hovels that marked the Grand Palais. Once here, the questions and the stares stopped as they always did. Nobody cared here because everyone here was forgotten and expendable, it was no different in the other parts of the village but they liked to offer the comforting illusion that your deeds would live on and that there was someone or something that cared for you.

She entered an unmarked residence, she had passed this threshold many times before. The door was unlocked, but there was a proximity combustion seal placed near the knob. It was a common practice among those in the poorest reaches of Sunagakure to use the threat of pain to deter thievery, a locked door was something most students could physically overpower. She diffused the seal and swung the door open, the home that was housed within the hovel looked upper middle class but minimalistic. It was neat, clean and small. With a grunt she flopped the foreign Sennin onto the couch. It was a glorified love-seat more than anything, his feet would overhang the edge by a fair margin. His neck craned in some unnatural position from his landing. Shiori rolled her shoulders and a pop could be heard before she knelt down along the edge of the cotton-hued chesterfield and eyed the site where she inadvertently 'cursed' him and let out a sigh. Nothing good was going to come of that brand that marred his flesh, she might be better off letting him die. She would have, but he did something that brought back a memory of something she almost had not long ago. She had been a mother a thousand times and each one of them was missing or dead, she had out-survived them all. Her last one was a sickly, scrappy little thing - the smallest runt any litter did have. He had no right to even be alive, the wind could have blown him away and he could never endure the First Law. It did not deter him, much like this man... perhaps boy, it was hard for her to tell the difference really. He had some petty notion that a meal had to be willing to be consumed so came willingly to sate a voracious hunger that would never relent. There was something about the selfless act that made him a foolish altruist and promised him a short life but she was a terrible villain at times. She placed a glowing hand over what would become a scar and relinquished some of her personal essence into what she feared might be his failing form.

It would take time for his body to repair, but unlike his last kidnapping he would not find himself restrained or disrobed, just cockeyed on the couch with only enough flesh exposed to reveal his corrupted shoulder. She would be off in a room adjacent seeking a device to open the cylindrical can of human food. She would not find anything suitable before she would pull a kunai from her boot and stab the bottom of the can. The chunky mystery contents would pour out onto a dish. She had no idea what it was but it came from the food store. She ate food, yes. But she never cooked it and she only ate it because it was there. She had no use for meat or fruit and grain, she lived off of pure energy or rather the every life essence that permeated these sands. What was in the can? Stewed prunes. They looked and smelled like normal human food, she made a sour face as she located a spoon. Why did human food have to smell so bad. She kept the plate at arm's length and tried to breathe through her mouth but discovered that not only could she smell it still but also now taste it. She shuffled across the laminate floor, using Kouin as a table she started to feed (or try to) the barely conscious man food.

OC: Trying to make it weird. Dunno what to do, I do not usually have unplanned kidnappings.

 

[Kouin]

The mother of the dunes had whisked him off his feet and had begun a journey to some unknown destination. It was overall uneventful, he body swung with each turn and curve, he made a mental note of each each of his body and the direction of the swing in case he needed to retrace his steps; though what did the women, Rioshi, have planned for him? She had only a slightly varied name from Shi, the person the scorn and tortured him; the on who caressed his body with malicious intent and spiteful 'endearment'. His body noticeably flinched at the thought of her, but there was a regretful yearning for a more mild version of the same experience though he would not be disappointed otherwise.

As the trudging footsteps persisted and his body beginning to stir more, his extended conscious was beginning to awaken. He could hear the polite excuses given each time, but one surprised him the most, one that almost made no sense, but he had no qualms in acceptance, "Need to get my Son home." They both knew he wasn't her son. They were of similar height, but every other feature didn't meet any genetic standard of similarity. Though, why was he somewhat ok with it? The seal branded onto his neck started to fester with malevolence as her chakra seeped into his body, he could feel his body recoil slightly as the foreign entity began to inhabit his body; if it weren't for the women's strong grasp on him he definitely would've caused both of them to collapse. His body was tired and exhausted. He had willingly let part of his conscious, or soul be taken from him; it was a similar dealing with imparting it into a corpse to gain control over it, but rather than just having it split momentarily and then being infused into a new body, now it was just gone. He let out his first audible word since he'd been taken from the Undersea, Whe...re..? The single word was a hassle to speak and he found him self slipping back under.

He eventually heard the sound of a door swing open, and footsteps to wood floor. He mentally sighed at his predicament it seemed like deja vu all over again, yet Shi never called him her son. His body flopped onto a couch, the cushions were much more comfortable than being slung over someones shoulder. He could feel her hand mess with the fabric by his collar, where she had scorned his skin; he could feel the warm hand brush over it. There was a silence for a moment before the footsteps began to move away from him. He pried his eyes open and observed his surroundings. It was simple and minimalistic dwelling, much to the same standard of living he would enjoy. Too many possessions clutter the area and obstruct free-thinking, or so was his way of thinking. He tested the strength in his legs. They were a bit weak, but if she wasn't around he might've been able to slip out, but something wanted him to stay with her, almost and compulsion.

The sound of metal on metal echoed into his ears, the sloshing of canned food into a bowl was also audible. He shut his eyes and cocked his head once more. He didn't judge people based off what they ate, who was he to judge someone if they enjo- His mental narrative was cut off as the smell of stewed prunes permeated his nostrils, and then it dawned on him what was happening; she was feeding them to him. He doesn't judge what someone eats, especially stewed prunes, but if it were up to him and he had to chose either stewed prunes or fighting a hundred armed guards... Nine times out of Ten he would take the guards, but in this instance he relented as he had little in the way of resistance. The prunes were forced into his mouth. They tasted sour, old and overall gross. They had no business being in a can or even being considered food. The instant they touched his tongue, his eyes shot open and he spat them out faster than someone on fire would put themselves out. That was most definitely not food! That was the least appetizing thing I've ever had the displeasure of tasting, no offense.

He had adjusted to the light and was beginning to catch his breath from the sudden surprise. He placed his hands on his knees and could look slightly distressed. If Rioshi went to aid he would simply wave his hand, This isn't something that can simply be 'healed'. He took a moment to gather some air, You have some knowledge of the Rikudo, how we impart our soul into a body; splitting it from ourselves but still retaining it. He feigned a smile the best he could, he had done this to himself under strict knowledge of it and held no regrets. His eyes grew slightly solemn as he turned to 'Mother', I recall hearing on the way here, "I must get my Son home" He took a minute pause to allow the question to sit in, Though I only sense myself and you... His mother was shrouded in mystery as he never truly knew her or where she was originally from; for all he knew she was actually his mom. Though it didn't account for the lack of genetic similarities. His mind skipped to out right asking the obvious. Ar.... Are you my Mother? The question could be described as confusion incarnate, and nothing else.

 

[Michi]

He came too, in time to taste the stewed prunes. If the prunes acted like a smelling salt or if it was merely a coincidence would be a mystery for the sages to solve one day. The prunes were well past their date of expiration, which was acceptable because it only gave the prunes more character much like a bottle of vintage wine. She stuffed a heaping spoonful of these slippery yet firm prunes into his mouth, they would enter easily considering their slimy juices but the moment they touched his tongue they were expelled from his maw and splattered like a hefty bag full of vegetable soup would after falling a dozen stories. The smell was horrible, like the same vegetable soup landing in a convertible car where it was allowed to fester for an additional two weeks until it was colonized with something deadlier than Ebola and much... much stinkier. Undeterred by a little stink, after all the scent of Cadaverine (a compound produced during the decomposition of animal tissue -- it is decarboxylated lysine) was not that unusual in the Omni Prime Medical Center laboratories nor was the scent of N-Butanol (An organic solvent). She wiped away the splatter on the side of her face with the back of her forearm and frowned as she planted the same hand on his sternum. "Eat human," she demanded as she fished for another spoonful without looking away.

That was most definitely not food! That was the least appetizing thing I've ever had the displeasure of tasting, no offense.

He argued. Undeterred, she protested as she pushed her less than substantial weight against him and tried to force a fresh spoonful of prunes into his mouth as he complained. If successful or not, he would have knocked her away and the deep plate of prunes would fall off of him and crash on the floor. The contents would spill, strings of the syrupy, lumpy substance would paint the floor a deep purplish-black hue. He panted on the couch she had dropped him on, he was likely disoriented considering the kidnapping or rather forced adoption that had taken place on this day. She landed on her back, the slop would stain the perfectly good white attire but it was the gooey consistency that even made her iron gut waver. Oh god it got her! Or at least that is what the instinct cried as she found her way to her feet in the blink of the eye in a rather unnatural manner. She ran her hands down her sides, collecting some of the squished prunes and flicked them away with a look of disgust. "You need to eat something," she insisted. Humans got their energy, strength and healing from fruits, vegetables and meats much like she got hers from the environs and souls. "I do not want you to die," she fussed as she tried to take another look at the mark she had burned into him. She recognized the mark, it was in her native tongue and it was a seal of power but it like all of her markings also carried with it a curse. Much like the Sunahoshi who once marked were revered by their fellow man as gods among men after they were imbued with her essence, their survival not anticipated but even with their boost in power in weakened them in ways that they never truly understood. They were brawlers, gladiators... forgettable men who could have and should have been likened to refuse but somehow they overcame the glass ceiling between man and Ancient and felled their greatest of warriors but they would never concentrate on the power that made that possible for as long as her essence ran through their veins. It gave them a calling to control the desert itself and hold back the maelstrom of their passion and intent and this would be their lifelong focus rather than discovering what their hands could overcome. Untested and untrained, they would forget their potential. "Stronger is not better," she muttered.

This isn't something that can simply be 'healed'.

He insisted as he swatted her away but she was not so easily deterred with the wave of a hand. She would attempt to snatch his wrist and allow her fingers to constrict around the narrowest point. "Yet it is something that can be survived, so if you are bold enough to contravene perhaps my intervention is feckless but I never asked for your consent." She would attempt to straddle the unfortunate and recovering man, but this was not the prelude to some dalliance. Her free hand would reach into her prune-stained pocket and she would pull out a small jar, or rather a vial considering the length of the strange glass. Etched onto the face was a series of runic markings, similar to a storage scroll but the markings would be of a language Kouin would not recognize. With her fingers grasped firmly around the length of the vial, her thumb popped the cork. The smell that came from the vial would be much worse than the prunes she had fed him, or tried to. This was the scent of death... old death.

You have some knowledge of the Rikudo, how we impart our soul into a body; splitting it from ourselves but still retaining it.

The stench would linger still, if he tried to fight her off she would struggle against him and with her enthralling voice she would state simply "stay still." She had the capacity to cast genjutsus with her voice and was casting a bind on him. The bind would be fleeting, it was never meant to restrain him for long if at all but she would repeat the command until it took hold.

I recall hearing on the way here, "I must get my Son home"

He interrupted at one point or another.

Ar.... Are you my Mother?</B><i></i>

He finally asked what should have been answered with a resounding 'no' but not in this case, <B>"...will be soon enough." Deft fingers would pull the long, raisin-like throbbing globule from the glass and she held it between her fingers. Regardless of her position, be it on top of him or standing if he successfully knocked her away because the genjutsu never took hold, she would attempt to force this bitter, firm, sinewy, dark morsel into his mouth and attempt to clasp her hand over his mouth. "Swallow it"

 

[Kouin]

A stern hand was planted against his fist; his body pushed back against the couch, the women's strength far exceeded what he expected. His eyes darted to the spoon as it reached into the deadly substance to attempt to kill him again! He molded chakra in the depths of his lungs and built a small ball of wind chakra; as the spoon scooped out more prunes, he released a small wind scar at the head of the spoon, severing it clean off. A look of relief overwhelmed his face. The smell lingered on, he would probably end up smelling like deadly prunes for at least a week or two to come. Thankfully he had spare clothes, but what was this women's deal? She was commanding him to eat like he was on the verge of starvation and hadn't eaten in weeks, which was absurd. He just ate... two... Maybe three days ago? He was unsure of it really, but he knew he had eaten at some point, and definitely didn't want anymore of those god forsaken prunes.

His shuffling and body movement jarred Shiori of her feet, knocking her onto her back and spilling the prunes over her. A look of disgust wiped across both of their faces. The prunes color began to stain her clothes, and what was once pure white was now a disgusting, preserved purplish color. The prunes seemed to be just globs rather than whole fruit; the preservative syrup stuck to her hand in a vain attempt to remove it from her body. If the prunes didn't leave such a wretched smell in his nose he'd offer to help, but she tried to feed him those hellborn fruits from the twelfth circle of hell, he wouldn't wish those on his worse enemy, but she currently deserved at least this much for trying to force feed him. He rolled his eyes at such a blanket statement, Eating is for people who aren't busy. How can you find time to eat when you're busy dealing with political jargon, anb- training sessions for fellow shinobi? Time doesn't allot much room for breaks. His eyes glinted to the side, it was a weak excuse he knew, but their was an air of truth to it that he didn't like admitting. He raised a curious brow, why did she care if he lived or died? They had only just met, yet she was dead set on his 'survival' in this moment; was it his actions or his voice? Did something about him remind her of someone she once had? Maybe another 'child' or legitimate born... This thought left a sense of sorrow; was she just trying to replace what she once lost with what looks so similar... He could sympathize with that having never known his own mother, but wouldn't he remember what she looked like? Strength isnt the only avenue to power. He could feel the seal on his neck glow and fester causing short spurts of searing pain on his shoulder. His face would contort in a moderate look of distress, but he refused to holler to this low level of agony.

With the simple wave of his hand, he felt a strong grasp latch around his wrist; he attempted to pull his hand free but to no avail. He released a sigh. She had a point, she hadn't asked for his help, yet he willingly gave himself up as an offering on a silver platter, but here she was now trying to 'aid' him, yet he refusing wholeheartedly, and for good reason; those prunes were an utter death sentence to even someone with exponential fortitude. Her hand would force his weakened body down flat onto the sofa, she took a rather risque approach and straddled him, but this wasn't going to be a case of deja vu, he wasn't going to let that happen again. Her hand reached into a pocket, and before she even opened the vial or jar he could smell death. Thinking it was more old ass prunes he began to struggle and object, the minute of his protest her voice rang in his ear; his eyes glazed over, and his body stopped struggling. Ok, His body an mind didn't ignore the simple command, the voice was enthralling and sounded trustworthy, why would it betray him? He was suddenly weak and tired, the thought of struggling and overcoming this obstacle seemed overwhelming and not worth the hassle; he could just take a nap here right?

The smell of wild death permeated the air around them; the scent surrounding the vial seemed old and ancient. Something that hadn't seen the light of day for centuries, yet was still round in multiple facets. ...Will be soon enough. These words nearly brought him to tears, but he was a man, and men didn't cry in front of women who claim to be their mom.... Or did they? He wasn't too keen on how moms worked exactly. A smile washed over his tired face and just nodded. He watched as the death-like, sinewy glob of death approached his gullet; he could sense an air of darkness surrounding, something truly heinous and wild. She beckoned him to swallow it, and whether he wanted to not, she would make him. He relented at first, but he could feel his nostrils suddenly be plugged. It was a smart move, his mouth would eventually have to open to capture breath, and in the instance that it happens, she would plunge the evil morsel down his throat and close his mouth shut and force a swallowing reaction.

Unknown knowledge flowed into his mind, his body physically convulsed until it could acclimate to the sudden insurgence. He learned of a race of beings who were neither human nor demon, yet generally took on human-esque features; they were known as Ancients They lived off the environment of which they were associated to, but they also fed on souls to gain even more power. He looked at the women in front of him and only spoke a word, Ancient...? Visages of a group of huntsmen streamed through his mind, they cast a ghastly gaze on the townsmen and instilled fear into those that looked upon them. He heard cries of the Wild Hunt echo through his head, The Wild... Hunt? His body was physically drained, he was tired and exhausted from the extensive abuse and 'torture', but he couldn't fall asleep yet, not now. He needed answers.

 

[Michi]

There were prunes and then there were hearts.

Kouin had eaten the heart of a creature who had been dead well over a millennia but his corruption still leaked into the surroundings. She only gave him the smallest sinewy thread; the heart of the Lord Wild Hunt a cursed item even among her own kind. The blackened heart of Orochi shared many of the gluttonous properties of Barynx, the voracious and enduring hunger of the legendary annelid was in cadence with that of the fallen Lord - how the Lord went mad with an unrelenting hunger and consumed his own kind. There was no reason, just hunger and the hunt that pervaded the hunter's senses. He never truly knew satiation, but there was a time when he followed rules. The hunger overwhelmed him and he ate his own kind, his own kin as he lost his grasp on reality, his sanity slipped away and he and fell into a pit of madness. She did not know if that same hunger would curse Kouin, if the hunter's instinct that drove Orochi over the edge would turn the human into a primitive beast or if he would become something more powerful than he previously was. Humans differed on such a basic level from Ancients, they had unfettered potential; they had no rules.

She kept a firm hold on Kouin until he swallowed the bolus. Her hand would relinquish its hold over his mouth and she would wrap her arms around him to pull him close. Her seal was intended to kill, not maim and not bless. He would be fortunate to survive even with intervention. Malnourished as he was, she wondered how he even got to the Undersea. He reminded her of an older... less dead version of her late 'son.' His foolhardy willingness to walk unflinchingly towards death be it out of happenstance, ethic, or shear ignorance. "Shhh... it will only hurt a little while..." she soothed. She had committed one of their only taboos - the consumption of their own kind. She would not partake of the fibrous, debased organ, she knew that like Orochi it would increase her strength and endurance exponentially much like it would for cursed one in her arms and there was no power worth the loss of her mind. The same would not happen to Kouin, little did she know that this very act had been done before many times over. The Soverign army hosted a legion of confined Ancients that were used as fuel to power the Daimyo's war-machine as he perverted human appetites to fit his needs. Loyal to him, their awesome power exceeded what a human could reach within their limited span before they begin to age and deteriorate. "You'll be just fine," she whispered.

What would he see?

What would he learn?​

What would he learn?​

Ashen planes of ill intent and a blood tide that washed over the cracked, arid expanse. The monotonous drum with its crescendoing pace would be the beat of his own heart, there would be a rumble in his belly and a thirsty need that could be felt. He would feel a need to run, but not to flee but rather to chase. This predatory sense was something even Shiori would not understand, she was an Ancient of the Earth Court and they were resolute in their steadfast and neutral nature. Still he would not be able to sprint as he desired, his feet stuck in the mire. Humans had such a willful spirit, unbridled by their nature, instinct alone would never be enough to force a human's hand.

He would hear a voice because he ate a heart yes, but the Lord was not dead.

Do you know what it is to have a predator's intent?

Cause fear...

Consternation of the likes none have ever realized before.

I yearn to take those around me to a new level of dire trepidation.

Fear is that sweet scent that flows through my universe.

This diminutive universe, I the Lord created and permit you to exist in.

You persist because I allow it.

If I should choose I could stub out yours and everyone else's existence as if extinguishing a candle flame.

One day I will and it will be glorious.

I will make you thank me later.

For now, not I but youI will mix a concoction of fear, pain and uncertainty such that the world has forgotten.

I will growl my intentions into your curious ear.

The lines between emotion, tactile touch and imagination will be blurred.

This intense state of desperation and craving will be your existence because you...

Foolish prey have drank from the wrong cup and tasted the blood of an apex predator.<i></i>​

There would be a clash between three energies and three diametrically opposed natures. Man. Stone. Predator. He would not die as the energies of the seal Shiori had burned into him faded into a pale, silvery scar. The power to endure came with the mark. A low guffaw would fade. The word of the predator... a killer that hunted on living things, oft unaided, alone, by virtue of its' own strength and prowess. The power to survive triumphantly in a hostile environment where only the strong survive. The path of man, an open path that could lead him wherever he desired, his only limit be his ambition and his span.

 

[Kouin]

"Shhh... it will only hurt a little while..."

"You'll be just fine,"

The sinewy blob left a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. He could feel the pumping of his heart begin to beat faster; he could feel his adrenaline begin to kick in at the foreign sensation. His legs needed to move, they couldn't help but struggle to free themselves from their prison beneath Shiori. The entire weight of the Earth Court Lord was pinning him against the couch; no matter how he struggled he could budge his body free. His senses were beginning to stir crazy, he was hearing the bustling traders and customers on the outside, his eyes were seeing crap in 4K resolution. The worse of all was an undying hunger that continued to grow in his stomach; it was compelling him to eat, to consume more of that elixir that is providing so much power. He knew deep down that if he consumed more of the devil's fruit he would be driven mad potentially.

What did she mean? Why would it be painful? What did she just feed him? He could feel her arms wrap around his body, constricting most of his movements. So many questions echoed in his head as he could feel his blood begin to pump faster, and became slightly hungry. He caught whiff of an intoxicating aroma whisk through the air, Something smells good. Was it the remaining contents of the vial, or maybe the ancient in front of him?

Knowledge which he could never had imagined was coming to him; information of The Wild Hunt Lord, Orochi. He had committed the only taboo their kind had, don't consume your own. He hunted his kind alone, stalking and slaughtering them like cattle. The very hunt consuming him to the core, and driving him to madness, yet not to death. His being couldn't be killed; it was then an ominous voice rang in his ear. It had a merciless tone, and voice which bellowed to be obeyed. Sanguine dripped from the words he spoke; being the sole creator of the universe, and I own exist cause he allows it. He could tell it was none other than The Wild Hunt Lord Orochi, knowing this sent a shock of dire trepidation down his spine. He grit his teeth every time he spoke.

For now, not I but you will mix a concoction of fear, pain and uncertainty such that the world has forgotten.

I will growl my intentions into your curious ear.

The lines between emotion, tactile touch and imagination will be blurred.

This intense state of desperation and craving will be your existence because you...

Foolish prey have drank from the wrong cup and tasted the blood of an apex predator.​

He knew he spoke of the truth, but a split being was no threat to him, what could a simple fragment do to him? I will forge my own path; you can whisper on the nonsense you want, but you can't force my hand much less force my intentions. You call the foolish prey who has drank from the wrong cup, but you're wrong. You so called Ancients are stuck in your old ways, and you underestimate the untapped potential of the human race. Their potential was only as high as the sky, which was limitless. His hand unflinchingly reached towards the vial containing the remaining contents, he stomach still yearned for the remaining contents of the the vial. I disagree. The apex predators are the ones that can adapt to their environment, the ability to never give up. You think you're forcing my hand? Idiot. This is my body, my life; you have no power here, you're just along for the ride, no matter how much of the black heart fragment consume.

His hand reached out to grab the vial from Shiori's hand; he had faced terrible ordeals in the past. What could be his worse outcome? He could feel the burning in his stomach begin to wither. His core body temperature returned to homeostasis. His mind was as clear as before he allowed the demon into his body; he would try to wrap his hands around the vial, and stand his ground. I can take the rest...

 

[Michi]

​

Scratching...

Skittering...

Creeping...

Through the deep, dark, black and forgotten recesses of his mind there was the intentions of a predator. It would burrow deep within his mind and twist the sinews of his ever beating heart. A low, deep resounding laugh could be heard from the back of his brain. His ears would not twitch in response to the absence of the sound but it would be heard none the less. "...hunger and thirst then. It makes no difference to me." There would be this thundering noise that sounded like the flapping of a million wings inside of his skull, his mind and his heart a roost for this incessant nagging of this antediluvian being.

"Spy with your little eye... something... throbbing."

It whispered its intent. There is so much more there. You are hungry and it is right there. This voracious appetite might be momentarily sated. Come now and reach. Come now and take. A mocking laughter would follow. Humans were as much a primitive beast as they always were.

Shiori was holding him down during this psychic turmoil. She felt him push against her and attempt to rise. She flung the vial and its contents behind her and let it rattle, clatter and slide across the uneven floor. "It will pass," her voice seemed to beg. "You will be fine, just take no more." She grunted from exertion. She would eventually fall back after a brief struggle, her hands in front of her she would start to run through a series of handseals as she attempted to cocoon him in a prison of earth and sand. "I don't know what it will do to you if you take anything more," she warned. "You will survive and it will pass!" She repeated, hoping to get the notion to settle in.

"...So hungry."

 

[Kouin]

The agonizing pain had left him, but in its wake was left a hunger which he had never experienced. His hand trembled at it made a futile grasp at the dreaded concoction. The infuriating laughter of Orochi echoed in the recess of his mind, a place that only the dark touches, and he felt all to comfortable their; playing on his dangerous nature, and tactful execution. He sensed a hunter in him, but to Orochi everyone was prey and no one was safe. The ominous beat of wings boomed in his head; with which beat of the wings he could feel his control over him sway, his voice was compelling, yet daunting all the same. Eat or be eaten. Their is the hunter and the hunted. The voice crept and skittered in his thoughts.

The vial was thrown far from his grasp, his heart dropped for a moment. I spy with your little eye... something.. throbbing His stomach twisted and churned, it craved a delicious morsel, yet it was ripped from his hands in a mere instance. He thought he could ignore the humming words and corrupted thoughts; they compelled him without even making him realize it. He was oh so hungry, but her voice almost begged him to stay in place, though he knew he couldn't; the hunt was upon them. His body began acting on it's own; the compulsion to move, to stalk... to hunt was overwhelming. He moved with fervor on the couch, forcing Shiori to begin to lose ground, Something.... Smells so good... The scent, the aroma; the fragrance of something that has been maturing for a moment like this.

His rippled eyes were slitted more like a snakes eye than rippling water, his senses had be enhanced, but his hunger was also changed.

Eat.

Or.​

Die.​

The words rung in his head like a constant metronome, never ceasing and never changing. His eyes locked with the Earth Court Lord proned on the ground; defenseless prey waiting for him to feast. He took a step forward, he spoke with almost a predatorial hiss, I spy... with my little eye... A juicy ancient The closer he got to Shiori the faster his heart would beat; there was something about the hunter's first kill that exudes the most importance. The thrill of seeing the fear in their eyes as you lash out and devastate them, hearing their cries of terror bellow through the night air. He was expecting all of this and more.

Sand and earth pounded on his body; she made any attempt to bind, stall or even incapacitate the the driven Kouin. He stopped at the length of his arm, just barely out of reach. Sand had pooled around his legs, clamping down on them like vice grips and constricting his movement finally. His arm extended out towards Shiori hopelessly, So..... hungry.... His stomach was ravenous; he hadn't felt this hungry ever in the entirety of his existence.

So. Hungry....

He looked down at the fallen matron. The fear in her the eyes, the guilt of what she knew she did. No. He knelled to the floor with hands on his head, I'm not like that, I'm not some beast with an insatiable hunger. I will not submit to your words. He let out a cry of despair and sadness, his eyes almost welled up from the agonizing hunger and the sanguine voice in his head.

Eat.

Eat.

Eat.

Eat.​

The voice persisted so matter how hard his tried to ignore or push it aside; the archaic being was stronger and more infectious than he could have imagined. His body began to force its way up, but now he was more aware of his action. His mind was split; eat the morsel lying in front of him, or somehow break free. No matter where he went the hunger would persist much like the sun will always rise. His strength overcame the sandy grasp and he lifted his leg to try and inch ever so closer.

Paying little attention to his legs, he didn't realize his other leg was still trapped, and tripped forward. His body fell ontop of Shiori. His chin sat comfortably on her shoulder; being so close he could feel his mouth begin to water at the thought, but his mind was pleading, nay begging him to regain control. His nails dug into the floor to stay his hands, Please... I just need something. His words were a plead for help; he didn't know how much longer he could hold himself back. He was so close he could almost taste her, and it made him curious... How much longer could he hold back?

 

[Michi]

OC: Almost caught up. o.o;

IC:
[col]She knew the hunger that pervaded him. It was a primal sense that existed in all living things, this dire need for a satisfaction that could only be temporarily sated. It was a biological imperative to have an appetite, a thirst for strength and power because these are the attributes that made a heartier organism that had a better chance of survival. Ancients did not need to eat, as strange as that might sound. Wind Country was the cradle of existence for their kind and they were never made naturally outside of the boundaries of these lands because here in Wind Country there is an invisible but never unfelt energy beneath these shifting dunes that nourishes and is the true life blood of the Ancients. Only in the absence of this energy would an Ancient know the truest sense of hunger, that voracious appetite that would not relent.

The stranger appeared to have gone mad. She would not know about the voices in the back of his head -- commanding... demanding tribute. She should have fed him another soul, any other soul but that was the only dead Ancient. Ancients do not die, not even Orochi for that matter, they simply reform. Hunger was a part of Orochi's nature but so was the hunt. Orochi was called the Lord of the Wild Hunt, not the Lord of the Unrelenting Appetite but he was a true glutton as well. It was what made him powerful, his lack of temperance and self-restraint. Still, every ancient had its vice -- Homura's wrath, Fuujin's pride, her sloth or rather idleness, the envious shadow that could only be a shade. It was the source of their strength as well as the cause of their downfall. The fiery ax of war, the lofty king, the neutral onlooker, the curious and secretive shade. That hunger made the Wild Hunt strong, something she wanted for her son, the pallid and weak thing he was, it was as if a stiff breeze would blow him away. He was made of chalk dust and dreams.

"You do not need anything, you're just hungry," Shiori insisted. "Hunt!" She demanded, knowing exactly what that would mean. Her hands started to run through an array of seals, the planned response was simple (Body Switch) without the use of clones when he lunged at her. She was not an ANBU, not yet at least. While efforts were made in that capacity it would seem that her preceptor had little interest in furthering her education. What would be left in her wake was a Kawarimi target with a smoke bomb attached with her strategist ability. She was not trying to hurt him, she was feeding him. "You will always be hungry," she warned "but you will also be strong and live longer than you should." Beyond the smoky fog her hands would run through another series of handseals if he was in pursuit. She created a dust clone (mastered) using debilitate and the special action to create a trio as she backed away deeper into the smoke bomb's fog. If she was targeted by Kouin, she would find herself less nimble than she was before. Body Switch was not disorienting to her opponent but also to her and she would be struck. "The Wild Hunt hunted, it was the hunt that fed them," not the kill. What he needed to satisfy his hunger was not another soul but rather a hunt. Consumption was in and of itself a grand experiment for Orochi, humans meals did grant him additional strength much like they did every and any Ancient but that was done less out of hunger and more out of need. Competitive and power-driven, to maintain their hold on their realm or territory mandated a strength to defend what was theirs.|.


A deep rumbling guffaw seemed to reverberate in the back of his mind.

The beat of a drum. No, the beat of his heart could be heard between his ears. The pace was brisk and the sound was thundering. The thrill of the hunt. Lust for the kill. Orochgi had long ago descended into madness committing the one taboo. He ate his children, his friends, his enemies and continued to hunt until the only prey left was not nearly as strong as he. It took the three strongest Ancients of the time at the height of their power to cast Orochi into that pit where he festered in the darkness and the gloom for centuries. He still hunted and he still fed, his very essence corrupted much like the blackened heart of Barynx.

"Yes, HUNT" the disembodied voice mocked. "Tear her to shreds! RIP THROUGH them all!" A mad cackling would erupt from nothing but Kouin would feel his stomach rumble. It was naturally empty of human food, especially since he refused the bounty of canned prunes he was offered. Still, he was hardly starving but the voice in his mind gave a different impression.

"You're starving."

"You're DYING!"

"She wants to see you suffer."​

It did not want Kouin to merely stalk and fight, it wanted the same madness that consumed the former Lord to also drown the foreign Sennin. Orochi was not looking to create a new monster, but rather to create a situation that would end in his favor. He wanted to egg the disoriented and injured man into a dangerous fight. He wanted the man to know ambition and to lust for power. To seek more than that simple scrap of heart that he relinquished. He let her get away with that blackened, calloused husk. He had more... Someday she or someone else would seek the rest and he would be waiting.

The laughter would seem to echo and reverberate off those unseen walls.[/col]

 

[Mikaboshi]

[col]Suna had picked the darkest and most remote place in the Blackest Bazaar for her intention to transmogrify Kouin's body and for any mortal man it might have been impossible to stumble across what was happening but the ripples that it sent through the very energy of nature itself were unmistakable for a creature such as Mikaboshi. The shadows roiled and crashed like water around Kouin as his anguished thrashing sent spiritual shockwaves through it, drawing the eye of Mikaboshi to it. He did not know for certain that Suna was at the heart of the sensations that he felt but it was extremely likely given the nature of them. He had not felt a presence like this since the fall of the Old World.

"So this is what you have been doing with your free time." He remarked as light came to his eyes through the transition of shadows. As was common with him, Mikaboshi's emergence was sudden and without warning which often gave the impression that he had been present longer than he actually was.

The flush of Orochi's presence was clear and obvious and it over-shadowed the both of them as Kouin lacked any control over the forces that battled for his body. Where as Mikaboshi had spent years learning to shackle his presence within the physical form of a human being, Kouin was only a novice at such a task. What had Suna created here? A hybrid of human and ancient? Mikaboshi's first instinct was to strike it down in disgust for what it was... but had not he done the same thing? In many ways he had bound his spirit to Katsuo's in order to break free of the constraints of his kind and while he was still prideful in what he was he understood that steps had to be taken to overcome their weaknesses if they were to survive. They needed to become more than what they were and in that regard humans possessed the one thing that defined their greatest weakness; Choice.

"What manner of creature is this that you've created here, Suna?" Glowered Mikaboshi, his demand to know what her aim was in infecting Kouin in such a way. Was she attempting to uplift Kouin in the same way that Mikaboshi had forced Tama to ascend? If so, to what end? All important questions but for the time being he waited to hear her response before continuing as he kept his eyes on the writhing Kouin.|[legend="[[b][u]OOC Notes[/u][/b]] - [[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XOV2L-eM38]SCENE BGM[/url]]"]

Mikaboshi - One and Again Lord of the Deep Court
King Under the Sands, The Great Nightmare, The Night's King, Eldest Shadow

[/legend][/col]

 

[Kouin]

A hunger of which the likes he has never experienced before wrecked his body. His instincts were telling him to do things he'd never fathom of doing. His thoughts an Orochi's words were seemingly melding together, but he knew who he was, he was was stronger than that. The ancient's needed to eat to grow stronger, but human's could seemingly grow stronger from sheer power of will and determination. He grit his teeth as he was so close to being able to devour the tasty morsel. He could feel his heart beat to a tantalizing rhythm; the sound reminded him of a war drum rallying soldiers to battle. Thi.... This pounding in my ears... He put his hands on his head, the pulsating rhythm of the drum beckoning him to cut her down; Can you hear it? It's telling me to do horrible things.. The words left his mouth in a tremble of restraint; how can you overcome such an overpowering instinct, or a hunger that you feel through your whole body?

You are starving.
You are dying!
She wants you to suffer!

He shook his head in protest to the words which echoed through his head; it was taking all his fortitude to keep himself in check, but he was on the edge of lunging, his body was trying everything in its power to lunge forward into the person that called him son, but Kouin refused, he had a choice, and this wasn't one he was going to make willingly. If I don't need anything, than why am I hungry?! Why is their a disembodied voice in my head? Why... And then something clicked in his head, a trigger word for better terms. Hunt... Hunt... Hunt.. hunt... His eyes narrowed at the recognition of the word; his demeanor shifted a hundred and eighty degrees.

His body shifted closer to the ground to lower his center of gravity, his eyes narrowed down onto Shiori and focused his hearing on the surrounding environment. Without any hesitation his body lunged forward; Kouin was no longer in full control, his body was working of his instincts and stimuli alone. He went for the most direct approach; encasing his hand in a flurry of lightning he plunged his hand forward, but he realized something was off, though it was too late as his hand tore through the block of wood. A smoke bomb exploded from the underside of the kawarimi target, engulfing his surroundings in a haze of smoke. He could feel his blood boil as his prey was ripped right out from under him. His nose caught whiff of the horrid stench of prunes on Shiori. She had the upper hand on him in every way; she knew the layout of the house, and she knew exactly what she was doing from the beginning, but he didn't care, he could feel his blood coursing through his veins; his heart was beating faster than it ever has before, the anticipation of the capture was astounding.

Her words pierced him once more, An undying hunger for what... The trade off sickened him in more ways than one; the thought of being in a state of never ending hunger, but the thought of power and longevity... Those were things people could garner into a position of power, but he had a choice in the matter, what would he pick? Power and longevity? An 'eternal youth' of sorts? Is that what it means to be an ancient? Out living everyone you called friend or loved? Is that my only option? Now wasn't the time for words to be spoken; he had trouble thinking of words to speak, all that was on his mind was the hunt. His hairs were standing on end, his body was experiencing a sensory overload of sorts; his brain was trying regain control of its body, while his body was clearly more focused on hunting mother.

And if I run out of worthy prey to hunt? Must I succumb to the same depth of madness as Orochi? Am I no better than a feral beast than? He was essentially cursed to hunt to feed; simple food wasn't true nourishment for him anymore, he fed off the stimulation o the hunt, but what if it suddenly stopped giving him a thrill? He fell to his knees in the smokey haze; he didn't want to hunt her, but Orochi and herself both wanted to opposite. With what control he had over his body, he manipulated bits of his chakra to form a chakra dagger. The blade trembled in his hand, his body didn't want to hold it, the hunt was all it cared for right now. With no time to spare he plunged the dagger into his leg. Adrenaline began to course through his veins quickly to compensate for the sudden onset pain, but a newfound clarity washed over him.

He stood up in the smoke and engulfed himself in a Cyclone Movement (mastered), the smoke circled around him eerily as it surrounded his entire being. With a simple snap the sudden wind dispelled from around his body and dissipated the smoke as well; a steady stream of blood ran down his leg as he let out staggered breaths. I... won't be.... Just some mindless beast; I have a choice.... Though how much of that was actually true, and him just telling himself that to feel better? Did I say you could yield? I have to see her blood be drawn; aren't you starving?! His stomach knotted at his voice beating in his head, I am not your puppet, I will not let my instincts and bloodlust consume me.

His mind was on the right track, but the adrenaline surge that pervaded him had worn off; he could feel his heart beating like a drum once again; his eyes locked with the clones again, but he had a choice. She had left the vial unattended. His peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the vial, Consume more, and gain more power... Isn't that what you want? What you need? More power than he had now? He could just imagine it. That old, feeble Saito would be no match for him... Hell no one in Kumo would, but none would be worthy to hunt.

His body and mind had become enraptured by the remaining contents of the vial; Shiori and her clones meant little to him anymore. Must.... Become... More... As he staggered towards the vial another person made its grandeur appearance; the shadows danced as he appeared seemlessly out of nowhere, but presumably the shadows themselves.

The thrill of having multiple preys surrounding him sent him stomach into a flurry of pain and agony; while he wished to consume more of the dark liquor, his body required the adrenaline inducing hunt to quench his thirst. He fell to the ground writhing in pain and torturous agony; had he been a mere beast he'd ask to just be killed, anything was better than the pervading hunger. In between his muffled shouts of agony, responded to the shadow denizen, Creature? I don't feast on my kind to gain strength. I don't need any of that; I'm a human with a choice! Though he'd like to believe that,but just how much longer did he actually have a choice.

 

[Michi]

Heartbeat

Ancients may need to eat to grow stronger but humans need to eat to live. If they fail to consume their fill they start to wither and die. A lust for power was all that compelled an Ancient to eat or it being a part of their basic nature such as the case with Orochi. That is why Ancients stayed in Wind Country, this cradle of existence: there was an energy that came from being in the presence of their element or genesis. Orochi's was merely the hunt - the stalk and the chase. Ironic how the hunt in and of itself could provide satiety. The Court of the Wild Hunt could be likened to the predatory instinct of the domestic cat. Felines, like all predatory creatures are born with a hunting and chasing instinct. One Kouin is likely sensing for the first time. But nothing is necessarily a born killer but with said instinct it is an eventuality one could suppose. Killing and eating prey are generally learned behaviors. Hunger will not automatically teach a cat to kill, much like a man does not know all of the edible plants in the wild just because he is hungry. A cat can be a skillful mouse killer and yet never eat a single mouse or even desire to eat one.

Thi.... This pounding in my ears...

"It is just your heartbeat," Shiori called back through the smoke. "You are fine - hunt!" Shiori insisted as she gave him a command.

"Can you hear it? It's telling me to do horrible things..."

She could not hear the voice but she could hear the bounding of his heart. She could hear things nobody else could, cloths moving over flesh and the gurgle of a stomach from afar. The thunderous, synchronous click of numerable valves in blood vessels in not one but dozens of people in any given area. It was all distortion to her at this point, but yes... she could hear it all. "There is only the two of us here, now find me!"

If I don't need anything, than why am I hungry?! Why is their a disembodied voice in my head? Why...

"Because that is what you are. You can feed without consuming," she claimed. It was the hunt itself, not the kill that would fill him but he would have to feel the respite to understand it. "Surely you will consume, it is a rite of a victorious hunt but you do not need it. Dull the hunger and hunt!" He lunged at her wildly, if he was acting under his full capacity he would be a greater threat. He was nothing like the stranger she met at the reservoir. Calm. Methodical. Precise. He would be terrifying if he had control over these urges. The smoke bomb released a thick, choking fog that filled the enclosed space.

An undying hunger for what...

"A worthy hunt," she replied simply as her hands ran through an array of handseals as she created a tangible clone in the smoke. "Your peers... your masters... your friends and your foes and you will kill every one of them if you do not learn how to reign it in!" She snapped.

Power and longevity? An 'eternal youth' of sorts? Is that what it means to be an ancient? Out living everyone you called friend or loved? Is that my only option?

"A fate your loved ones already suffer outliving you," she reminded him. The life of a shinobi is short and brutal. The one or two 'lucky' enough to know old age are not necessarily blessed with the gift of longevity. "Either you stop existing or you keep existing, you would not like either fate," she protested. She made the decision for him by ensuring that he lived. The same selfish action he did every time he saved someone's life, rescued someone from a tragic end or was the tragic end for someone. One of the clones explained as it dashed out of the billowing cloud as if to run past Kouin. It would make no attempt to evade an attack, in range for Kouin to lash out and destroy it utterly. "This is just your instinct and nothing more!" Shiori claimed, she was not lying but she was also incorrect. He was not feeling an impulse, he was hearing an actual voice. The voice was not 'real' or at least it was not something she or anyone else could hear and she did not know that. If she knew that, she would not be quite as keen to be a part of this exercise.

And if I run out of worthy prey to hunt? Must I succumb to the same depth of madness as Orochi? Am I no better than a feral beast than?

"Then make sure you always have a worthy quarry." The response was ominous but true and her voice lowered a full octave as she said it.

She could see what he was doing, she did not need her eyes to know everything that was happening. The blade he made and the self-inflicted damage that released a current of fresh blood from his leg. "Don't hurt yourself!" Shiori shouted, authority seemed to coincide with her words. They ate and hungered because they needed food -- but what they ate and how they satisfied this need was one of the few choices they had. But instinct was strong. "You're hungry because you need to eat. Eat for the energy to repair. Repair because you are damaged." She attempted to explain it to him in the briefest way possible. It was why everything hungered and why everything ate. It was easy to look at an Ancient with disdain because they ate differently than humans did but she thought no better of humans. They shove various dead carcasses and roots, leaves, stems and ova of various vegetation that grows from the ground into their facial cavity. 32 protruding bones cut, smash and grind these various 'foods' into a paste-like bolus that they then propel down a passageway with the assistance of a stumpy meaty tentacle into a pool of acid that dissolves these 'foods' into a slurry of digestive juices and their 'meal.' It is pushed down a long narrow tubule where over the course of hours they absorb the essence of these foods and transform it into energy. The remnants once these rough remains have been drained of their nutrients and use are compacted into a log and then banished from their bodies. And somehow Ancients eating habits are grotesque.

The fog had been pushed away by a current of wind. in the corner of the room was the vial she had thrown aside. She saw his eyes dart in the direction of the dangerous artifact. "...don't," she warned. Her eyes looked over in the very same direction. She would make her move just as Kouin had, but she would not physically attempt to reach the vial. Kouin was in a bloodlust frenzy and it would only become a physical altercation if she tried. She slipped on the prunes but the fall was hardly relevant as she completed the array and a wall of earth broke through her expensive wooden floor. A bit of her heart ached over that, wood was extremely expensive in Wind Country, specifically in their region. "You are going to get yourself killed!" She shouted.

Was it the ruckus or the transition of power or the rebirth of a forgotten and terrifying Ancient that drew Mikaboshi like a shark to bloodied waters? The room became noticeably colder a few moments ago but she did not notice the drop in temperature in the heat of the moment. A puff of condensate was released from her maw as she huffed. The shadows seemed livelier as well, they danced and they played as their master same seemingly from the darkness and the gloom. "Brother?" She called, loud enough to be heard but far from a shout - she could be referring to two possible Ancients with that title: Kazuki the newly appointed Sennin or Mikaboshi the recently dismissed and disgraced Sennin.

"So this is what you have been doing with your free time."

"More..." she answered cryptically. "More of our own kind." Mikaboshi knew somewhat of her lonesome plight but he was hardly the sympathetic sort despite having similar grievances.

"What manner of creature is this that you've created here, Suna?"

"A half-blood is better than no-blood from our destroyed courts," she reasoned. Despite the state of her home, furniture marred, scratched and askew as well as painted with rancid canned prunes she had an air of dignity in how she replied. Was she embarrassed by her surroundings - no, they were a means to an end and their present, sorry state was the result of necessary child rearing. "I am feeding him," she replied calmly. She did not give him the specifics regarding the court but it was likely that the learned and experienced Deep Court Ancient would be able to quickly put two and two together. Ancients do not need to 'eat' but they often chose to and by eat one means they active seek human souls. However there was no human to consume. No remains or evidence of a recently slain man or woman unless the carcass is hiding behind that wall -- but a dead body behind a wall? Do not be silly - this is no short story Gothic horror. She was feeding him because to eat they had to be in proximity of their element and his element was an act -- 'a hunt.' There were few Ancients that subsisted off a behavior, a primal behavior that pervaded this region once to such an extent that life sprung from intent much like the burning sun and open skies, the endless seeming sea, the fiery depths and the dark endless pits. There were hundreds of courts in the heyday of the reign of the Ancient race, but again most represented a single element or an amalgamation of a few but they were able to identify them easily. All that one could see in Kouin if they looked at him for a short time was madness -- a voracious hunger, a primal need to chase and sprint and catch and consume. A glutton with a boundless appetite.

Behind the wall unmentioned -- a thread of the blackened heart of Orochi.

 

[Mikaboshi]

[col]"You are coddling him." Admonished the Deep Lord without offering commentary on Shiori's statement that a half-blood was better than extinction. Perhaps that tacit agreement would be the closest he would ever come to offering assent to that sentiment. "He does not need to eat, he needs to hunt. Can you not feel that?"

Perhaps she couldn't. Suna was powerful -- had always been more powerful than he, certainly -- but she was not a predator in the same way that Mikaboshi was and Orochi had been. She ate, certainly. She took in the same way that the desert took; unimpassionately and without urgency. So powerful was she that the concept of hunting was not one that was necessary. She simply took what she needed and that was that. The only beings that had existed at the time which would have been able to prevent her from doing that would have been the other two Great Lords and Orochi himself. What Suna did not seem to understand was that there existed more to the hunt than satiation of hunger. It was a ritual which demanded a chase and a kill and a meal without those things was nothing short of pointless consumption.

"Not yet you don't. But you will." Predicted Mikaboshi as he hooked his his fingers together behind his back and stepped into the room. Shiori's domicile was thick with the swirling essence of the Wild Hunt but despite that Mikaboshi did not fear the infected Kouin. While he had never been nearly as powerful as Orochi or any of the three Great Lords, perhaps Mikaboshi was likely the closest thing to kin outside of the Court of the Wild Hunt that Orochi had. Much like how the Deep Court shared it's domain of the underground with the Earth Court, it's emphasis on the nature of predator vs prey was very much aligned with the essence of the Court of the Wild Hunt and it's ravenous master Orochi. "Or you'll shrivel up and die. There is your choice."

There was no contempt in Mikaboshi's judgement but there was no empathy either. He was not well known for his accepting nature towards those that could not assert their own right to exist. He would not extend a hand to Kouin until the suffering Cloud Sennin managed to overcome his own weakness and squelch the twisting madness that writhed beneath the surface of his consciousness. Just as he had put Tama through a crucible of suffering in order to forge him anew, Kouin's own ascension had to be by his own hand. The Eldest Shadow would tolerate nothing less. If Kouin refused to rise to the occasion and overcome his weakness then Mikaboshi would put him out of his misery. If he succeeded... perhaps there might be a place for him in the world he was planning to create.

But that was up to Kouin to determine by his own will.

"As you are now you are even less than a human. You are a beast being ruled by his own instincts and a creature such as that has forgotten it's pride." Mikaboshi glowered at Kouin, his lesson a simple one: instinct was necessary to survive but to be ruled by it was to become nothing. No, less than nothing. "If I am wrong then cease your mewling and prove it to me."|[legend="[[b][u]OOC Notes[/u][/b]] - [[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XOV2L-eM38]SCENE BGM[/url]]"]

Mikaboshi - One and Again Lord of the Deep Court
King Under the Sands, The Great Nightmare, The Night's King, Eldest Shadow

[/legend][/col]

 

[Kouin]

Being coddled? He was having some malicious voice beckon him to hunt and slaughter in his name, and he thinks him to be coddled? The lack of emotion or care was evident in the mans voice; he could sense an air of superiority, as if he thought he was above them, Would you wish me to hunt you? Maybe you could enlighten me on what exactly I'm feeling. A small pool of blood began to form at his feet from where his chakra dagger sunk in. He could still hear the shallow voices of Orochi echoing in his head. The man was mocking him. Speaking so absolutely about what his outcome would be; did he really only have two choices? Or was there another option? No... He refused. He could feel the threads of his own fate in his hands. He stared cautiously at the bottle... Infinite potential or Agonizing death....

It was a simple task to guzzle down the vial, but what was Mikaboshi's angle in being here? Preventive measure... Or was he in search of something... His ripple eyes narrows as they stared back at him in deviance. That's not a choice. Those are options. He would state very matter-a-factly. His vision began to fill mystical threads of fates, each revealing images of his past actions, and dark silhouettes of what may be. Though ahead in the road he saw nothing but twisting and turning, and nothing set in stone. A single thread poured from his chest. It was the very moment he was in right now; seeing what would happen was an impossibility. My future neither ends nor settles for the lesser of two evils. Were these ancients so plainly embed with only concepts of black and white, not all the shades of grey in between? Your old eyes may see black and white plain as day, but do you not see the shades of grey in between, or the possibilities on the outside? Life was a spectrum of colors; not just black and white.

He shook his head, but no in disagreement, but for shame. The many eyes of life must've worn your eyes into just seeing everything as cynical and unworthy. While sometimes the most worthy are the ones that need some coddling. He wasn't quite heavy set in his words; he too was growing ever intolerable with the needless nagging of anyone but his immediate family. You wish for this 'mewling' to cease? You want me to prove I'm as tenacious as I speak? He glowered into what looked to be the pits of hell, Fine. He would probably regret his decision now or later, but if it would shut up the ancient he was willing to make that deal with fate.

He knew what he had to do to shut the ancient up. A smirk worked across his face, If that's the case we are all creatures at one point. Because when all else fails, we rely on our instincts. He slid his free hand into his pocket as he maintained hold of the vial. Out he produced a coin, and reveal a Heads and Tails side. Tell me. Do you believe in fate in the least? He popped the cork over the vial. He had begun to twirl the coin between his fingers, Us humans aren't pathetic creatures who can't protect themselves. Cause I smell Lady Fate is with me today. Without an que, he tossed the coin in the air, Boundless power, or insanity. Call it. He mentally grasped hold of the threads of fate and time; with a single swift motion he consumed the rest of the dastardly concoction; the slimy bloblot slid down his throat easily as it made home in his stomach once more to be reunited with it's sinewy breathen.

 

[Michi]

"You are coddling him."

"I am not coddling him," Shiori protested, "he is a newborn." You cannot just let a newborn infant wander about, they barely understand what they are, never mind what they need.

"He does not need to eat, he needs to hunt. Can you not feel that?"

"I know," she replied sharply. "I am trying to feed him." Food was not always a tangible substance for an Ancient, in fact most often it was a passive act where one would absorb their element from their surroundings however the same could not be said of Kouin as the heart of the wild hunt beat from within him. He was a mere neophyte and if he was let loose into the village he would not know that he only needed to seek, stalk and chase, not devour. He would not know the concept of satiety as it differed from a human's sense of being filled. There would always be a dull pang in the pit of his gut, far from underwhelming but something that could be controlled with effort and fortitude. Perhaps if she was there from the genesis she would be able to prevent another mad-Ancient from lashing out against his own courts leading to the decimation of an entire line.

Would you wish me to hunt you? Maybe you could enlighten me on what exactly I'm feeling.

Kouin threatened. "Don't," Shiori warned. Don't test the waters with other courts. Don't threaten other courts.

Creature? I don't feast on my kind to gain strength. I don't need any of that; I'm a human with a choice!

"Yes, choice," the one thing that made humans truly different from short-lived Ancients. The wild Hunt was unlike any other Court, Ancients did not need to consume souls because they had passive access to their element -- be it the earth or the sky or even the shadows; the wild hunt was an active court that required action to feed and in the heat of a moment it is as it always has been difficult to know where and when to stop when instinct beckons one to continue on. Still, humans had a choice so they can act in spite of their cravings although for most they are a slave to their desires and whims. Ancients were like addicts, those who were compelled to perform an act without or in spite of reason. Perhaps humanity was the bridge between strength, endurance and madness.

"Not yet you don't. But you will."

Mikaboshi predicated and a weight seemed to take the breath from Shiori. It was true, there was a chance that Kouin would be no better than Orochi, or possibly even worse. Courts have limits, drives and calls for a reason. It did more than define who or what they were, it was a source of order in a world that would otherwise be in a state of chaos. The Earth endured and is slow to react; the shadows are insidious and they deceive but they never lie; the Wild Hunt is a predatory state. Ancients knew what to expect from their brothers and while some might have place a small amount of blame, it was hard to fault something for being what it was. But Mikaboshi was right, it would be a test of human endurance to overcome the cravings and the pangs. Even if he could, would he want to. The fastest path to power is through consumption of souls, something first discovered by the Wild Hunt in fact. Who would have thought to eat an immortal soul would grant one such a boon but it did and it was habit-forming for the greater courts such as hers. A race to the top and a struggle to remain relevant as the three fabled powerhouses consumed in excess as a means to maintain hold over their domain. She did what she had to and she did not regret a thing.

That's not a choice. Those are options.

The fledgling Ancient snarked.

"As you are now you are even less than a human. You are a beast being ruled by his own instincts and a creature such as that has forgotten it's pride."

Mikaboshi remarked, likening him to a feral creature rather than a man or an Ancient. This was about to turn into a pair Ancients posturing and it was a source of frustration for the Earth Court Queen. A low rumble reverberated from her throat.

My future neither ends nor settles for the lesser of two evils. Your old eyes may see black and white plain as day, but do you not see the shades of grey in between, or the possibilities on the outside?

Neither would be willing to grant the other an inch, it was their way.

"If I am wrong then cease your mewling and prove it to me."

You wish for this 'mewling' to cease? You want me to prove I'm as tenacious as I speak? ...Fine. ... If that's the case we are all creatures at one point. Because when all else fails, we rely on our instincts.

She did not know when he had grabbed hold of the vial, but she spied it in his hand. "Don't touch that!" Shiori snapped with an acidic tone. "Just drop the Hunter's heart," she instructed as calmly as she could. It would kill him to consume such a cancerous substance at once. "Orochi will rip you apart!"

Tell me. Do you believe in fate in the least?

A coin between his fingers, the neophyte was making a reckless statement.

Us humans aren't pathetic creatures who can't protect themselves. Cause I smell Lady Fate is with me today.

"Don't do it..." Shiori warned him a second time as her hands ran through an array of handseals with the proficiency of a practiced master. Nimble fingers twisted and snapped into place, an audible snap could be heard as each pose was made.

Boundless power, or insanity. Call it.

"Neither." She announced in a somber voice as her hands completed their final pose and a dark howling rift opened around Kouin. Countless dark arms reached out from within the rift composed of pure dark energy and crackling with sound.

((Shiori attempts to attack Kouin with Gate of Enma [Mastered] using Hashigaki skill Sound Crystalization to change this jutsu into a Wind Technique, AE special move debilitate.))

She was not trying to kill him, she was trying to hold him down long enough to separate the foolish human from the toxic substance he threatened to consume. Ironic how one is forced to attack to protect someone from themselves.

 

[Kouin]

Newborn? Last he checked he was a full grown adult, what did she mean by newborn? What did you do to me? His voice held a bit of shock and confusion; how was he a newborn? What were these two? The air was permeating with the smell of ancient lineage; beings who have walked the earth for eons. They like him could walk through eons of history, and experience the passage of time itself. Was he truly any different from these monsters? They walked and talked like him, but the smell of the ages lingered on them like a caustic scent. The lingering evil dwelling in his chest recoiled with in him; he had experienced much pain and agony here in Suna, but that would end today. He would either perish or come out on top. He refused to let this archaic creature explain the expectancy of his own life.

He could feel his chest clench; the thought had always lingered in the back of his mind. The blood thirst that many shinobi from Kiri had experienced stuck with him all his time, yet it was buried away for some time when he was conscripted by Kumo, yet the thrill of the hunt surged through his veins again. Im no stranger to a hunt. I may look young in body and spirit, but I am not naive. His voice held an air of finality and certainty. He was sick of being treated like a fawn that is defenseless, he could hear the warning in Shiori's voice, but he wasn't inclined to follow, No, I won't just let him speak like he can walk over who he pleases. He always moved to the beat of his own drum, never following the cadence that was laid out before him.

Though his words held an air of truth. He could either succeed and come out on top, or he could become the feral beast he was being likened to. You speak as if you know my life. I don't know how long you have traversed this realm, and I don't care. You're simply a somber old man who scared of change. Who wouldn't be terrified of change, especially when you have had your ways set in stone for centuries. Though being set in stone in old ways aired way for bad tides. Maybe you are the naive one. Maybe you have something to learn from this 'fledgling' of your kind.

The shock in her voice was evident, but he couldn't help feigning a smile, I'm sorry... He shook his head and looked somberly forward at them, There is the hunter, and the hunted... Maybe he was full of shit, maybe he was right, but he was going to show them who the real apex predator was. I have been torn to shreds hundreds of times; every time I have come back on top. I have no plans to be torn asunder here. He would give her no ground regardless of her warnings or pleas. This was something her had to do to put Mikaboshi in his place. He had to prove he was wrong.

He could see chakra igniting within Shiori, her hands went through a flurry of seals; a somber look was on his face as he looked at the one that Not a option. Sorry. A genuine frown was seen on his face as a low rumble reverberated from his body. His ripple eyes began to glow profoundly; he watched as the dark arms approached him. He put his palm up in response, Shinrai... Tensai As the arms attempted to grab hold of him they would impale against a wave of gravity, reflecting the arms way.

May this day be remembered by your kind. The birth of a new apex predator. He sighed solemnly. Here goes nothing.

He popped the cork, and the the remainder of the sinewy substance slink down his throat into his stomach.

 

[Mikaboshi]

[col]Mikaboshi blew a long-winded sigh and rolled his eyes -- a distinctly human gesture despite his words -- as Kouin denied the truth of Mikaboshi's assessment. Whether Kouin was cognizant of it or not; the process which Shiori had initiated in him was not one that could be halted or put off. It was one that possessed only two endings; death or evolution. If Kouin failed to rise above his weakness then the process would consume him leaving him either a rabid creature with no sense of who he had been before or a desiccated husk devoid of life. In either case, the being that recognized itself as "Kouin" would be as dead as could be. The Cloud Sennin mistook Mikaboshi's words as fear for him which could not have been further from the truth. There was no being alive that Mikaboshi feared. His only investment in whether or not Kouin survived was that Suna wanted it and thus far Suna had given him no motivation to thwart her in the way that Sousuke had in the past. They had made allies of each other and in line with that agreement her goals were his goals.

"What a naive little thing you are." Mikaboshi remarked as the shadows around Kouin leaped to life, grasping at his hand and arm like long sinewy vines but with the strength of several men attempting to restrain back his arm and prevent him from consuming the contents of the vial. His gravity manipulating technique could fight against Suna or Mikaboshi's attack but not both of them. If it deflected Suna's, Mikaboshi's would almost certainly interfere enough to prevent him from imbibing from the vial and vice versa. "I have never understood your kind's fascination with your own demise."|[legend="[[b][u]OOC Notes[/u][/b]] - [[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XOV2L-eM38]SCENE BGM[/url]]"]

Mikaboshi - One and Again Lord of the Deep Court
King Under the Sands, The Great Nightmare, The Night's King, Eldest Shadow

[/legend][/col]

 

[Kouin]

[topic left due to inactivity sadly; we can pick this back up when we all have more time.]