Darkness [T|O]

[Molokai]

SPOILER: Click to show

Effective Judgment
Rank: "C" Always 30 Training Points
Skill: Supplementary
Effect: When hunting down heretics, having the knowledge from their divine beliefs on how to make more effective Judgments can give them an advantage.
Special: ---
Drawback: ---
Description: The Venator gains a +1 to their effective Class Level when determining the Level based effects of any Judments.
Limit: Must be a Venator. Must know Judgment.

-00/30-

Turin had been in River Country for a little over a day, having spent his first night in one of the many small-town Inns along the trade routes. River Country was a popular thoroughfare for the merchants heading north after gathering their wares at the coast. Its location meant that it was faster than an overland route through Fire Country, and the temperate climate and idyllic landscape meant that travelers came through frequently. Because of this, lodging was relatively easy to find for just about anybody just passing through.

While there, though, he noticed that so much of the landscape was grassy plains it would be a crying shame not to do some shooting practice out there. So, he woke up early in the morning and fashioned himself some straw targets. Finding the nearest massive as hell field, he set up the three targets about a good distance apart from one another, then ran as far away as he could. Pulling out and assembling his crossbow, he knew he was on the very edge of his maximum range when his Accuracy Judgment was active, and decided that today was the day he was going to push that range even farther.

He went prone and zoomed in his scope as far as he physically could, then activated his judgment and watched as the targets seemed to fly closer to him, and became so clear that he could almost count the grass blades around them. Taking a deep breath, he aimed for six whole seconds and let a bolt fly. It felt like he had time to read a book by the time the bolt landed, but when it did it nailed a perfect bullseye. Even though he hadn't shot in a long time, his muscle memory was so ingrained he could definitely make that shot.

It was now time to push the limit even further, though. Moving back again, he was now well over eight hundred meters away from his targets. They were almost impossible to even see from this distance, and it was farther away than he had ever attempted a shot before. Taking up his stable shooting position again, he adjusted his scope as much as he could and focused all of his attention on the target. From this distance, even the tiniest bit of sway made the crosshair go way off target, and it took all of his self-control to keep his crossbow steady. Exhaling, he let the bolt loose and counted in his head how long it took to clear the distance.

This distance made it extremely difficult to tell if he had hit or not, but with careful enough examination he could see that he missed. Actually missed. As in, didn't even hit the target at all. Immediately filled with the rage that only comes from wounded pride, he took aim again and fired hastily. This one sailed off and was even further away than the last shot. That kind of dramatic failure snapped him back into attention, and he remembered that patience is the single most important aspect of being a shooter. Taking aim a third time, he took several deep breaths and entered into an almost trance-like state. With a bit of inspiration, he tried pushing some more of the Venator chakra into his eyes just before firing.

Once the interminable flight time finally ended, Turin looked on with a strange combination of pleasure and disappointment as he realized that he had in fact hit the target. Only, he hit the very bottom-right corner of the target and scooped out a chunk of hay as the bolt sailed into the ground. Technically a hit, and if he had been firing at a person that would have been a decent flesh wound, considering how he made the targets approximately human torso-sized. It still wasn't good enough, of course, but he realized that it was in fact possible to push his accuracy farther by concentrating more on his Judgment power. Resetting himself again, he lined up the fourth shot.

[Molokai]

-??/30-

Truthfully, Turin knew his accuracy was more than good enough to make shots like this. The reason, he realized, that he was having trouble making it was because he was at such a distance where the target genuinely looked blurry. The difference between an excuse and a reason is that a reason is the actual cause of something, while an excuse is just trying to make something okay. In no way did Turin think missing was okay, but he knew that he wasn't aiming properly because his eyes simply couldn't comprehend the target at this distance.

Therefore, the solution was to make his eyes stronger, using the power of his Judgment. Allowing the Accuracy chakra to fill his eyes, he took aim at his distant targets and found them to be just as blurry as before. Instead of wasting another bolt when he knew that nothing had changed, he concentrated on the chakra in his eyes and tried to find a way to make it even stronger. He had already succeeded at enhancing this particular Judgment beyond its normal boundaries, and now he sought to do so again. The first thing he tried was simply pouring more chakra into the Judgment, hoping that the influx of energy would cause the power to increase. All it really did was make his eyes hurt, so he pulled back on the chakra before he burst something.

Since he couldn't simply muscle the Judgment into getting stronger, he would have to finesse it. Keeping it active, he tried to focus on the target itself and open the channels through which his chakra flowed. Rather than simply forcing more chakra to his eyes, he allowed the judgment to draw on his chakra supplies more. In essence, he took down the chakra limiter so he could do more with it. Then, he tried to bring the distant target into focus. Humans can adjust the focus of their eyes to make things at different distances clearer. Any child bored in class has experimented with this, manually making things blurry or focused in order to pass the time.

Like most adults, Turin was now trying to do the professional version of the stupid stuff he did as a kid. In this case, it meant augmenting and focusing his eyes in order to get a clear sight picture on a distant target. A soreness started to come into his eyes, similar to how it feels when he's been squinting in the sun for too long, but still he kept on concentrating. The image of the target blurred and snapped back to proper focus in waves, sometimes perfectly clear, other times worse than before. This was very literally an workout for the tiny muscles that controlled whatever parts of the eyes controlled image focus.

After a few too many minutes of reliving his time spent in boring classes, Turin finally landed on something that he felt he could work with. Holding on to how it felt to have a focus he could function with, he aimed for as long as it took and fired. The bolt spun like a flying drill through the air, and after a few tense breaths Turin checked to see how the hit looked. This time it was more on-target than before, although it was hardly the bullseye he expected. It was progress, though, and progress meant that he was on the right track. However, until he could split his bolts from where he now prostrated himself, he wouldn't be satisfied that his shooting was good enough.

However, he still needed some more practice shots so he could start to imagine what an appropriate sight picture would look like. Opening his Judgment once more, he allowed as much chakra to flow into it as it needed and took aim. At this distance, even with the kind of power he was seeking, a shot took a long time to line up. His goal was always to improve his maximum shooting distance, but that often meant being patient when it came to aiming. There came a deep breath, a steady exhale, a squeeze of the trigger as his breath hit the grass, the solid chunk sound of the bolt being released, and finally a sigh of frustration as the bolt hit again on the target, but not on the bullseye. His aim appeared to have improved, because he could now hit the target itself consistently, but it still wasn't good enough.

[Father 'Suke]

+17; 17|30

[Molokai]

-17/30-

Turin loosed another bolt and watched as it ripped through the air like an immense hornet, landing disappointingly close to the edge of the target. He'd been taking practice shots for what felt like hours, and the ground around the target had so many feathers sticking out of it that it looked like a huge bird had exploded. Something was missing, because just pumping chakra into his eyes clearly wasn't doing the trick. So, instead of waste any more of his bolts, he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky.

With his crossbow laying across his chest, he felt its comforting weight press down on him as he breathed. In this relaxed and serene position, the man who looked like a boy meditated on his Judgments and his new calling as a Venator. The chakra that washed over him when he activated his Judgment ability felt good. It felt light and soft, but still powerful, in the same way that water felt soft until it began to rush. It was vastly different from his genjutsu chakra, which felt to him much darker. He had never minded the darkness. While others grew up being afraid of it, Turin's early years taught him that darkness was his ally because he could always hide in it. As he grew older and learned to mold chakra, and took more and more to killing, it felt like he let more that darkness inside of him. Using his Genjutsu to deceive or manipulate felt like he was letting that darkness out and using it as power.

He didn't feel guilty about that. To say that it felt dark didn't mean that it felt bad or wrong, it was just different from the way that the Judgments felt. When he let that chakra wash over him, it was as if the opposite was happening. It felt like the light in his heart that stayed lit even through the darkest of times was allowed to shine forth. It was as if, instead of letting his darkness empower him, he was letting his light be his strength. It felt good, more pure, as if every time he used the power of a Judgment he felt a little less black and a little more gray.

Of course, he would never be fully rid of the darkness. Ever since that day when he first encountered the kinds of creatures that Venators battle against, it was as if something had changed inside of him. The darkness that used to be his ally showed its other face, the face that hurt and consumed those who delved too deep. He saw that day what he feared he would become if he went too deep into the dark.

From that day forth, he decided he wanted to fight using both his light and his darkness. He knew that stealth and dishonorable conduct were his strengths, but he didn't want to become something. . . else. Letting his light chakra now wash over him, he didn't give it a specific focus, such as healing, or seeing, or moving, he just let the light cover him. He thought he could feel parts of his darkness, that inner corruption that seeped into his soul every time he killed or stole without a second thought, breaking off and floating away. It was empowering in a different way than before, and he desired to let it empower him more. Instead of using the light as just another tool in his arsenal, for that brief moment he wanted to let the light in and allow it to become a source of something greater.

Clouds drifted gently by overhead, driven by strong currents of wind far beyond his reach. The sun gently warmed his face, and he almost felt like its light and his own were blending. Most of the time he was outside was at night, and most of the time he was out during the day it was either raining or cloudy. Today, though, he felt the light and the warmth of the sun, and related it to the light and warmth of his Judgments. Feeling a surge, he let the power of Venator light wash over him. He did not resist, because he felt the sheer benevolence of this energy and knew not to be afraid. As he let it flow he felt it get stronger and stronger in his heart until he couldn't contain it any more. Feeling the rush as if the soft, still waters had started flowing and became strong, he guided that energy to his eyes and activated his accuracy judgment.

Taking up his crossbow once more, he leveled it at the target. Over eight hundred meters of distance between he and the pile of straw surrounded with missed shots. The power of the light now coursed through him, stronger than it had ever been. He accepted the light as part of him, and allowed it to overcome the darkness, at least for this one shining moment. For these moments, these very brief minutes, he felt like there was more light than dark, like the power of the sun and the good of the world could overcome the obstacles that he had always thought the dark was the answer to. As the energy rushed from his heart to his eyes, and flowed into his hands and his crossbow, he unleashed a shot that felt to him like the single most accurate shot he had ever taken in his life. It whipped through the air like there was no resistance at all, somehow empowered to move faster and straighter than it had ever done. And there, from over eight hundred meters away, he could see in clear and precise detail the first bullseye he had gotten all day.

[Father 'Suke]

+10; 27|30

[Molokai]

27/30

It felt as though Turin was extremely close to making his Judgments stronger, but there was still something that he was missing. As per usual, he couldn't quite put his finger on it right away. His shots had become as accurate as they had ever been, and he felt both physically and metaphorically lighter. However, he still didn't quite feel like he had fully achieved the next level of power.

There was an aspect of his shooting that he hadn't covered with his training up until this point. So far, he had been shooting at his maximum possible range. What he was missing was what he called his "effective range". Effective range was essentially the range at which he could fire accurately with speed, which differed from maximum range in that shooting at maximum range took a great deal of aiming time. So, he began the long trek back toward the targets so that he could practice shooting at them from effective range.

He calculated that, with his accuracy Judgement at the new and elevated level that it was, he could effectively fire at close to a hundred and fifty meters. Remembering that he had actually set up three targets, he posted himself at about an even distance with the three so that he was close to the maximum from each. Activating his Judgment ability, he embraced the light again and let it flow over him. No longer subconsciously resisting the light, it flowed through him much more strongly and he saw more clearly than he had ever seen before.

He looked at each of the targets while holding his crossbow down near his waist. The point of this was not to aim ahead of time, but allow his Judgment to guide his hand-eye coordination. With a breath, he popped the crossbow up to his shoulder and fired three shots as quickly as he could reload them, one at each of the three targets. Each shot landed well within the center circle, but weren't quite within Turin's acceptable definition of a bullseye. Realistically, that kind of shot spread was more than satisfactory for taking out at target, but Turin's didn't find "satisfactory" to be acceptable.

What he really needed was to really let his Judgments go. He had several to choose from, and in this case he needed to let himself accept his Judgment power and let it guide him. Activating both his Alacrity and Accuracy judgments, he felt his entire body buzzing with energy, especially in the part of his psyche that made the high-speed calculations required to shoot the way he did. Furious in his speed and deadly in his precision, he fired not three, but six times. He went through each target twice. First time, hitting a dead-center bullseye. Second time, splitting three bolts in a row.

Naturally, things would change if he was firing at something that was moving. But, now that he knew he could hit anything at this range, he was confident he'd be able to easily adjust his sight picture to a moving target. Feeling like he was the best around, he gathered what was left of his bolts and stashed them in his quiver. Many of them had been nearly destroyed by the impact from the huge distance, and at least four had been split with other bolts. Luckily, he carried around a lot for that very reason.

Once all of the surviving bolts had been collected, he turned his eyes to the horizon and longed for home.

(Exit)

[Father 'Suke]

Learned