As said before:
The Obsidian Palace far out dates humanity and the site of the final resting place of Orochi. Orochi, formerly the Ancient of the Wild Hunt, Tarasque was the patron of predators and hunters in the Wind Country. Within his dominion fell the stewardship of beasts that were born with the need to hunt and kill others in order to survive and he was good at what he did. With his honed predatory skills, frightening size and supernatural physical power, Tarasque was without a doubt the single most dangerous of the Ancient Lords and was greatly feared by many of the lesser Court Lords-- and for good reason for it was Tarasque that first realized the power to consume the spiritual power of another being and to this day was the only Ancient to ever consume another. No being ever found out what it was that drove Tarasque to his madness. Perhaps it was simply years of leading hunts in the wild that drove him to insanity. Or perhaps he became bored with mortal fare and decided at last to move on to eternal. Whatever the reason was, the mind of Tarasque snapped in two leaving behind what could only be described as a rapacious eating machine fully capable of consuming the entirety of the mortal world if left to his devices.
To prevent this, the three lords of the Great Courts-- Fuujin, Homura and Suna --cast their power together and smote Orochi. Singularly he was the strongest of any Ancients but even he could not stand against their combined might. Slain, the threat presented by Orochi to the natural world seemed abated... that is until Orochi reappeared. Word passed from court to court that the Mad Ancient as he had begun to be called had resurrected and was once more set upon his path of endless consumption. Once more, just as they had before, the Great Lords cast their power together and destroyed Orochi though it seemed that the cannibalistic Ancient had somehow increased it's power as well as having resurrected itself. This cycle of death and rebirth continued for Orochi for some time, each time the period between his resurrections changing. At times Orochi would re-appear within days of being defeated. Other occasions it would take years. By the final time they destroyed Orochi, it seemed as if they could not keep him dead for more than a few minutes until finally Homura cut the heart of the beast from it's chest in a fit of anger... and suddenly Orochi ceased to be reborn. It seemed as if whatever unhallowed power it was that gave unto the twisted monstrosity which had once been their kin a cycle of eternal rebirth was contained entirely within it's heart. Fearing what might happen to the sanity of any Ancient which dared to try and use the power of Orochi's heart to achieve a similar power, the Three agreed to hide the heart deep underground where it might never be uncovered. So it was that by their agreement the building which would come to be known as the Obsidian Palace would be constructed and the Heart of Orochi hidden deep underneath it behind a series of elemental locking seals which were never meant to be unsealed. Eventually the ravenous hunger and hatred of the Orochi, it's very spiritual presence, began to leak out and corrupt the shadows of the Palace creating the ominous dread that permeates the air in the prison. To be present in the Obsidian Palace is to feel the pull of Orochi's mindless and all-consuming gluttony and eventually be consumed by it.
She was here to seek the heart, the truths this site held had been forgotten to the annals of time. Shoiri was seeking the heart to fulfill her own needs, her son was dead. Tarasque was the single ancient who defied death and denied the universe the only constant: that all things must come to an end. The depths of the Obsidian Palace filled the soul with dread and scratched away at one's fragile sanity. The heart constantly sought life and energy, draining the essence from degenerates and the falsely accused. The obsidian palace was an intrusion on the Deep Court, a lesser court during the time of her reign. She wondered if Lord Mikaboshi was aware of the dangerous power housed within his realm. She coveted this heart, the centuries have passed and neither Fuujin or Homura had recovered their form. In time, they should have returned even if they were destroyed utterly. The flame was not extinguished nor were the heavens broken, they were the incarnation of their elements and domain and their domains existed still. Much like she was the wind, sand and storm. Perhaps the regenerative properties of the heart would be enough to rebuild them from their grave soil or so she hoped.
The shell of the Obsidian was still fractured. The criminals housed within these confines have fled, albeit some stayed as madness had addled their minds and hearts to the point that they had forgotten what freedom was. The sharp click of Shiori's heel resonated down the corridor. Her dress met at her knees and her long red hair was pulled back from her face less several unruly strands bound with a piece of cloth. She had just left the Omni Prime Medical Center. She was watching over Sousuke while he slept, it was more common than he knew. She enjoyed the quiet rhythmic movement of his chest against the sheets. There was concern of course, a truth she scarcely admitted to even herself. Still, Sousuke could not take back what she saw in that basement. No, it was not what Shouki did to her, pain was a fleeting sensation and while scars may linger they too were only superficial. It was how Sousuke had tethered her brother, she saw how Sousuke's words had power over the Deep Court Lord. It was not for love or affection that she felt anger towards Sousuke for this trespass, this terrible humiliation... rather it was the abject realization that one day that might be her on her knees before Sousuke. It stirred something primal and almost forgotten from deep within her, this righteous indignation and desperate fear.
Part of her hoped. No, almost her entire being wanted Sousuke to tell her that he was averse to the concept, that he was hesitant. Something to demonstrate that he knew what he was doing was wrong. That it was different because Mikaboshi was not her. That it was different because he loved her. She was given no such assurances.
She ambled deep within the the Obsidian, the oldest structure in Sunagakure for good reason. This maze of rooms and pits, this life and chakra leeching structure had a heart in the most literal of senses. A heart she had come to consume. The Revenant Orochi, his still beating calloused heart was housed within here. Deep down the darkest pit. Deep down in the furthest recess. She knew where it was dropped, she was there when his still beating heart was severed from his chest. The pressure and the pain worsened as she approached, like a map through these twisting depths. Her pale cream colored dress fluttered in the breeze that came from the pit.
"You breathe still brother," Suna called.
A deep echoing guffaw replied. "BrEaThE... Ha. Ha. Ha."
"Tarasque the Mad Ancient, the one who could choose. The one who committed the one taboo." She accused as her toes reached the terminal point of the walkway. Before her was a drop of an indeterminate depth.
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
"I want it," she demanded, her choice of words sounded more like a petulant child than a Queen.
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
"ANSWER ME!" Suna snapped, her hand swept in front of her as if to command the earth to kneel but the ground refused to submit.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You have no power here Earth Queen" Tarasque taunted. "Ha. Ha. Ha. But, I do."[/b]</I> The winds seemed to pull rather than push, they threatened to pull her into the pit as she stepped away from the ledge. It was not her physical body that the Lord of the Wild Hunt sought, rather it was something of far greater value. Her essence. Her knees buckled beneath her and she gasped for air. She forced herself to stand, her legs wobbled beneath her as she tried to reject the theft. Her jaw clamped closed and her eyes shut tight. A tendril slithered along the floor and wrapped around her ankle. With a tug it pulled her down.
The descent was further than one would have assumed. She slammed into the floor with the full force of gravity. She could feel her vessel's bones break, her tissues swell and her blood escape. She was not going to scream. She was not going to beg. She mustered what little power she had reserved, her bones started to mend as she pulled herself to her feet. Her hand braced against the wall. Before her was a great mass of tissue that writhed and seemed to try to take form. It churned. It rumbled. "I want it," Suna announced again, her voice filled with determination.
"Pity, I seem to have taken more from you than you from I,"[/b] Tarasque observed. Suna was failing, she barely had the energy to hold herself together while Tarasque had begun to take the shape of a man. "So weak... So human..." The bubbling humanoid mass commented.
"Strength is nothing without choice," Suna announced as she lunged for the center of this mass of tissue. Her long fingers sunk into the moist flesh and she ripped her hands away, revealing the gelatinous ooze beneath the flesh. She reached inside of Tarasque blind, her fingers sought something small. Something powerful. Something he had three of? Her fingers wrapped around the small black quivering hunk of muscle. It moved to an internal rhythm in her hands as she brought the foul object to her mouth without hesitation. She bit down on the calloused heart, it tasted like rotten meat and smelt of old blood. She could feel the bile upset at the base of her throat as she forced the fetid meat down her gullet. Tarasque let out a terrible cry and Suna scurried back. There were two others, two somehow with him. She should go after them. She should consume them utterly.
Tarasque's body thrashed against the sides of the pit. The walls started to fracture and the stones shift. There was no time. The trip, not a complete disappointment perhaps. She did not feel different but to think that there would be miraculous moment was foolhardy. No, she would not know until she was given a choice. Battered and nauseated she reached for the walls to make her climb.
S-Rank: 30 min
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The Obsidian Palace far out dates humanity and the site of the final resting place of Orochi. Orochi, formerly the Ancient of the Wild Hunt, Tarasque was the patron of predators and hunters in the Wind Country. Within his dominion fell the stewardship of beasts that were born with the need to hunt and kill others in order to survive and he was good at what he did. With his honed predatory skills, frightening size and supernatural physical power, Tarasque was without a doubt the single most dangerous of the Ancient Lords and was greatly feared by many of the lesser Court Lords-- and for good reason for it was Tarasque that first realized the power to consume the spiritual power of another being and to this day was the only Ancient to ever consume another. No being ever found out what it was that drove Tarasque to his madness. Perhaps it was simply years of leading hunts in the wild that drove him to insanity. Or perhaps he became bored with mortal fare and decided at last to move on to eternal. Whatever the reason was, the mind of Tarasque snapped in two leaving behind what could only be described as a rapacious eating machine fully capable of consuming the entirety of the mortal world if left to his devices.
To prevent this, the three lords of the Great Courts-- Fuujin, Homura and Suna --cast their power together and smote Orochi. Singularly he was the strongest of any Ancients but even he could not stand against their combined might. Slain, the threat presented by Orochi to the natural world seemed abated... that is until Orochi reappeared. Word passed from court to court that the Mad Ancient as he had begun to be called had resurrected and was once more set upon his path of endless consumption. Once more, just as they had before, the Great Lords cast their power together and destroyed Orochi though it seemed that the cannibalistic Ancient had somehow increased it's power as well as having resurrected itself. This cycle of death and rebirth continued for Orochi for some time, each time the period between his resurrections changing. At times Orochi would re-appear within days of being defeated. Other occasions it would take years. By the final time they destroyed Orochi, it seemed as if they could not keep him dead for more than a few minutes until finally Homura cut the heart of the beast from it's chest in a fit of anger... and suddenly Orochi ceased to be reborn. It seemed as if whatever unhallowed power it was that gave unto the twisted monstrosity which had once been their kin a cycle of eternal rebirth was contained entirely within it's heart. Fearing what might happen to the sanity of any Ancient which dared to try and use the power of Orochi's heart to achieve a similar power, the Three agreed to hide the heart deep underground where it might never be uncovered. So it was that by their agreement the building which would come to be known as the Obsidian Palace would be constructed and the Heart of Orochi hidden deep underneath it behind a series of elemental locking seals which were never meant to be unsealed. Eventually the ravenous hunger and hatred of the Orochi, it's very spiritual presence, began to leak out and corrupt the shadows of the Palace creating the ominous dread that permeates the air in the prison. To be present in the Obsidian Palace is to feel the pull of Orochi's mindless and all-consuming gluttony and eventually be consumed by it.
She was here to seek the heart, the truths this site held had been forgotten to the annals of time. Shoiri was seeking the heart to fulfill her own needs, her son was dead. Tarasque was the single ancient who defied death and denied the universe the only constant: that all things must come to an end. The depths of the Obsidian Palace filled the soul with dread and scratched away at one's fragile sanity. The heart constantly sought life and energy, draining the essence from degenerates and the falsely accused. The obsidian palace was an intrusion on the Deep Court, a lesser court during the time of her reign. She wondered if Lord Mikaboshi was aware of the dangerous power housed within his realm. She coveted this heart, the centuries have passed and neither Fuujin or Homura had recovered their form. In time, they should have returned even if they were destroyed utterly. The flame was not extinguished nor were the heavens broken, they were the incarnation of their elements and domain and their domains existed still. Much like she was the wind, sand and storm. Perhaps the regenerative properties of the heart would be enough to rebuild them from their grave soil or so she hoped.
The shell of the Obsidian was still fractured. The criminals housed within these confines have fled, albeit some stayed as madness had addled their minds and hearts to the point that they had forgotten what freedom was. The sharp click of Shiori's heel resonated down the corridor. Her dress met at her knees and her long red hair was pulled back from her face less several unruly strands bound with a piece of cloth. She had just left the Omni Prime Medical Center. She was watching over Sousuke while he slept, it was more common than he knew. She enjoyed the quiet rhythmic movement of his chest against the sheets. There was concern of course, a truth she scarcely admitted to even herself. Still, Sousuke could not take back what she saw in that basement. No, it was not what Shouki did to her, pain was a fleeting sensation and while scars may linger they too were only superficial. It was how Sousuke had tethered her brother, she saw how Sousuke's words had power over the Deep Court Lord. It was not for love or affection that she felt anger towards Sousuke for this trespass, this terrible humiliation... rather it was the abject realization that one day that might be her on her knees before Sousuke. It stirred something primal and almost forgotten from deep within her, this righteous indignation and desperate fear.
Part of her hoped. No, almost her entire being wanted Sousuke to tell her that he was averse to the concept, that he was hesitant. Something to demonstrate that he knew what he was doing was wrong. That it was different because Mikaboshi was not her. That it was different because he loved her. She was given no such assurances.
She hardened her heart.
She ambled deep within the the Obsidian, the oldest structure in Sunagakure for good reason. This maze of rooms and pits, this life and chakra leeching structure had a heart in the most literal of senses. A heart she had come to consume. The Revenant Orochi, his still beating calloused heart was housed within here. Deep down the darkest pit. Deep down in the furthest recess. She knew where it was dropped, she was there when his still beating heart was severed from his chest. The pressure and the pain worsened as she approached, like a map through these twisting depths. Her pale cream colored dress fluttered in the breeze that came from the pit.
"You breathe still brother," Suna called.
A deep echoing guffaw replied. "BrEaThE... Ha. Ha. Ha."
"Tarasque the Mad Ancient, the one who could choose. The one who committed the one taboo." She accused as her toes reached the terminal point of the walkway. Before her was a drop of an indeterminate depth.
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
"I want it," she demanded, her choice of words sounded more like a petulant child than a Queen.
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
"ANSWER ME!" Suna snapped, her hand swept in front of her as if to command the earth to kneel but the ground refused to submit.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You have no power here Earth Queen" Tarasque taunted. "Ha. Ha. Ha. But, I do."[/b]</I> The winds seemed to pull rather than push, they threatened to pull her into the pit as she stepped away from the ledge. It was not her physical body that the Lord of the Wild Hunt sought, rather it was something of far greater value. Her essence. Her knees buckled beneath her and she gasped for air. She forced herself to stand, her legs wobbled beneath her as she tried to reject the theft. Her jaw clamped closed and her eyes shut tight. A tendril slithered along the floor and wrapped around her ankle. With a tug it pulled her down.
Down into the pit.
<I>The descent was further than one would have assumed. She slammed into the floor with the full force of gravity. She could feel her vessel's bones break, her tissues swell and her blood escape. She was not going to scream. She was not going to beg. She mustered what little power she had reserved, her bones started to mend as she pulled herself to her feet. Her hand braced against the wall. Before her was a great mass of tissue that writhed and seemed to try to take form. It churned. It rumbled. "I want it," Suna announced again, her voice filled with determination.
"Pity, I seem to have taken more from you than you from I,"[/b] Tarasque observed. Suna was failing, she barely had the energy to hold herself together while Tarasque had begun to take the shape of a man. "So weak... So human..." The bubbling humanoid mass commented.
"Strength is nothing without choice," Suna announced as she lunged for the center of this mass of tissue. Her long fingers sunk into the moist flesh and she ripped her hands away, revealing the gelatinous ooze beneath the flesh. She reached inside of Tarasque blind, her fingers sought something small. Something powerful. Something he had three of? Her fingers wrapped around the small black quivering hunk of muscle. It moved to an internal rhythm in her hands as she brought the foul object to her mouth without hesitation. She bit down on the calloused heart, it tasted like rotten meat and smelt of old blood. She could feel the bile upset at the base of her throat as she forced the fetid meat down her gullet. Tarasque let out a terrible cry and Suna scurried back. There were two others, two somehow with him. She should go after them. She should consume them utterly.
Tarasque's body thrashed against the sides of the pit. The walls started to fracture and the stones shift. There was no time. The trip, not a complete disappointment perhaps. She did not feel different but to think that there would be miraculous moment was foolhardy. No, she would not know until she was given a choice. Battered and nauseated she reached for the walls to make her climb.
S-Rank: 30 min
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