Today's Good Mood Is Brought To You By Coffee

[Kaen]

Dusk is just a fantasy, an illusion. The sun is either above the horizon or below it. And that means that day and night are linked in a way that few things are, there cannot be one without the other yet they cannot exist at the same time. Kaen could relate to this event in that his very being came into question in this regard. Could he exist without his Flame Court linage, the driving force behind so much of his life. The constant search for more.

To be more, stronger, smarter, more resourceful, higher authority. Behind all these things lurked the vibrant, savage nature of the elemental beings that existed well before the common man that now populated the world. This other sense of self was not unlike the setting and rising of the sun. His human side more tranquil and serene, while his Ancient side was bright, wild, blazing, ALIVE!

A tinge of stoicism lingered in the air as Kaen lightly rubbed one of his forearms. The aftermath of some 'light' training could be seen in the background behind the red-headed Sunan shinobi. The light crackle and snaps of some burning wood would almost be peaceful had they been enjoying an evening campfire. It had been a few months since his return from battle, bruised and brought to a low point. This was his most recent attempts at getting back into the game, so to speak. He had also been training more on his physical shape rather than perfecting his ninjutsu further. His relative visage was not a drastic transformation, yet. So if one had seen Kaen in the past they would recognize him if they cared to. He was just, stronger I guess you could say.

[OOC - Let's GOOOOOOO - requesting the Coffeekage]

 

[Shieo]

"Hnnnnngh!" aaahhh I let out an exertion of air and strain that released from a series of stretches performed on my arms and legs. It was freeing to feel some tension disperse and relieve from my form; though it was short to last given where I had chosen to attend for the day. Truthfully it had taken many a year since I had to really put myself into the zone of combat, which to some is a blessing; but given my recent change of status I figured while I have the luxury of slight security, I would train and refresh my mind and body to the woes and challenges of engagement in combat. With the sweat, the blood and the loss of breath. Everything that came along with the honor of shinobi-- If one thought of it as honor, at least.

Exhaling through my nostrils, a feeling of hot air washed along my face as the dry and acrid heat permeated throughout the lands; tragically that included me. Even though I had only stretched, the feeling of beads of sweat had already trickled down portions of my face and caused bits of hair to be matted against my face and neck where my hair hung in the back off a pony-tail. "Right'a lezz'e what I 'ave to work with 'eh." exiting the changing room, a bottle of water held in my left hand that was already a quarter empty. I certainly felt different, given the heat I had recently altered my attire to fit the environment a bit more, not that it made much a difference. Ridding myself of the tans, hides, leather and armored pieces for more heat-functional clothing. I had baggy work-out pants on, affixed with a rope belt; unsurprisingly mind to some, I had a small flask strapped to the belt holders with a faint coffee smell coming from it. My torso was still a bit covered for sensitive matters, with a white-light clothed shirt my right arm was on display with it being sleeveless which depicted a handful of tattoos for a sleeve; tribalistic in imagery but ambiguous in it's story-telling. However my left arm was covered with a full cloth sleeve of the same color and fabric, and my left hand gloved with a white leather.

Upon entering a section of the dojo equipped to both withstand and support training of varying degrees of power. Ultimately, I figured I'd find myself in the region best suited for advanced members of the chakra-divided society. It didn't take terribly long to get there, nor to find someone that I had seen if only briefly in the past. A fiery red haired man that had already looked to have put in some work in the dojo.
Deciding to approach, I gave him a light wave of my right hand. "Ayo' member me?" Sparing little time, I figured to avoid having to throw our voices I had gotten decently close to him; plus it didn't look like he was quite in the middle of battle, or anything really at this point. "Y'here to train s'well? Iffa' so, would'ja mind bein' m'partner? I haven' had a real good run fer'while."

[MFT 530]

 

[Kaen]

"Ayo' member me?"

Reveling in his fiery handiwork was likely the cause, but this unfamiliar-familiar face caught Kaen off guard. His body tensed instinctively and jolted around to lock eyes with the owner of the peculiar sounding voice. The temperature surrounding the pair would jump a few degrees higher, not unlike throwing a small handful of dry leaves into a campfire. Quickly remembering he was only training and this individual was not a threat he would regain his composure. "I... Do I?" A perplexing response, yes, but honestly he couldn't place where he had seen this man before. Did he know this guy, or was this guy after something?He got an answer sooner than he anticipated as the ebony-haired stranger(?) came closer. "Y'here to train s'well? Iffa' so, would'ja mind bein' m'partner? I haven' had a real good run fer'while." Woah what was this accent? How could he not remember where he met someone like this? This was going to bother him all day now.

Kaen would inspect the bold, unsuspecting gentleman in front of him. He first gave thought to dismissing this garden variety ninja, but there came a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. As if his body knew this could be fun for him despite the guy saying it had been a while. "I would have called it warming up, but I understood it all the same. You may have chosen the wrong sparring partner, I'm not the type to half ass my training." Walking slightly more towards the center of the enormous square training grounds of Toraono Dojo. Giving appropriate distance between the two he would take a relaxed combative stance. "Whenever you're ready, friend." Perhaps he should have gone with his initial thought and let this guy off easy. Perhaps Kaen was underestimating his sparring partner in being relaxed. He would soon find out.

[OOC - Calling Battle Mod]

 

[Shieo]

Drawing out an extended exhale to really clear my lungs, drawing in a whole new breath filled me with vigor. I watched as the skilled combatant of flame from our brief encounter last revved up. Less his physicality or stance; but more his aura, the presence and pressure that one exudes though one's natural prowess. A feeling I'd long since felt, not to imply others are weak; but more that I had grown accustomed to avoiding conflict and chose a path of peace-- Though in my profession, I couldn't let that go for too long, else I'd regret it when my life lay on the line.

"I would have called it warming up, but I understood it all the same. You may have chosen the wrong sparring partner, I'm not the type to half ass my training."

Obtrusively I cracked a smile, not necessarily to mock the comment; though I could see why it may be interpreted as such. "I're like'a t' way you think m'fiery one. Gotta' keeper' blades'n minds sharp. -- Names'a Shieo; less'a forget it." Observing his movement to a clearer place in the dojo, the structure here was built to withstand some of the most momentous blows and techniques that the shinobi could perform, judging by his inherent power it would going to need it; at the very least for me; I simply hope it can withstand his explosive force.

"Whenever you're ready, friend."

Keeping a steeled eye on my partner, the dullen and dour expression of mine turned sharp and focused. An acute alacrity needed for our kind, decisive moments in the battles of us old folk is all it can take to start and end a fight; we both need to deflect and deter the other long enough to find a crack-- And opening to commit to defeating the other. Even at the very beginning all it takes is one failed motion-- So upon my position, my right arm lifted and began to detach magnets that lined along the shoulder of my shirt. Upon completion the sleeve would drop to the ground with a quiet gasp of fabric to floor. Revealing in the glittering light of the dojo a prosthetic of abnormal color and material- A testament to the horrors of Kumogakure, metal in form but deadly to shinobi if not handled carefully- thankfully this was only a prototype that failed to pass the deadly requirements of the Tennouzan. But it served it's purpose and fitted my style of combat.

Sliding my legs shoulder-width apart, my left leading along with the metallic Dimeritium arm towards my opponent, knees bent slightly and back arched only a few degrees to brace for rolling and shifting momentum. "Aye'a let's do this."

[Bmod Accepted]