Red Hot [T][P]

[Estilo]

Training|Travel|Private

Division One

R A I N



Iapetus Burabiya wasn't the kind of person who made a habit of helping others. He was an intelligent bloke- bold and confident, someone who'd gained his wealth through the cunning of his own treachery and countless betrayals. He was also a sadist and, to make matters worse, very ill-tempered. So when the Yokushin business in Amegakure came crashing down with the city's own demise, Iapetus did what any other businessman in his clan would have done. He gathered whatever resources he had left and brutalized the common folk of Amegakure with hired mercs and cheap labor.

After a few terrorizing months of racketeering and slave labor, Iapetus managed to regain whatever wealth was lost during the great disaster and then some. Enough to head off to a resort in the Land of Tea and soak in the sun, while his executives ran that domineering company of his in Ame. Needless to say, Atlas was surprised when he received a messenger hawk from his father, stating, in a finely worded letter, that he sought to have him visit the crime-ridden wasteland and look over the 'family' business.

Family. He'd nearly gagged at the sight of that word. Whatever 'family' they'd had was long dead now. Atlas had never had a father to begin with. The man had been absent all his life, and now he was beckoning him to visit, willy-nilly, like they were old friends. He didn't understand it, in fact, it irritated him quite a bit. Enough to have him smack the messenger bird that had brought him the damn letter in the first place.

But as fate would have it, Amegakure was the only place he hadn't frequented on his travels. The only place he hadn't bothered to look for her. A civilization in shambles, that he'd initially strayed from, but was now starting to suspect. So, after much travel, he finally ventured through the broken gates of said civilization and entered its chaotic depths.

Never before had he seen a more wretched hive of villainy in his life. The moment he'd set foot in the disaster zone, he'd been bombarded with horrid scents and sights, insulting to the senses, and constantly ambushed by roving gangs that patrolled the streets like packs of wild dogs. The streets were always on fire- literally- and the sky was clouded with plumes of thick black smoke, only lightening when the cold rain fell from the sky.

Despite the minor perils he'd faced during his initial exploration of the city, however, he'd managed to make it to the headquarters of his father's company unscathed, albeit drenched to the bone in water. But he had not traveled to the company base to run the 'family' business, mind you, but rather, to utilize the resources his father had suddenly granted him permission to use. A sticky network of informants, mercenaries, politicians, businessmen, government officials... the Yokushin clan of Amegakure was in deeper than he'd realized. Unfortunately, even with all these assets at his disposal, not one word of her had come through.

Frustrated, restless, and anxious, Atlas was all set to leave Amegakure and continue on his search. But when news of a legendary rain swordsman came to his attention- one Nurhachi Niru- he had a sudden change of heart. If he could find himself under that man's tutelage, to revamp his skills with a blade and master the art of Kenjutsu, his training would definitely go by a lot quicker. Thus, he decided to stay in the wretched city for a while longer and registered himself for shinobi aid, while he waited for the old man to return from travel. He would wait for months.

Until finally, on a rainy day like any other in Ame, Nurhachi arrived.

[Estilo]

• Iaijutsu Stance
Rank: E Rank
Effect: Allows the use of Iaijutsu Forms.
Special: None
Drawbacks: None
Description: The practitioner moves into a bow stance, their main hand resting over the hilt of the sword without gripping it, and their offhand resting just under the hilt on the sheath; they stand slightly crouched, able to easily move to a kneeling of standing position for their forms.
Restrictions: Must have a Senpai/Sensei of a Kenjutsu Dojo to learn.

0.5

Fifty-eight centimeters of stainless Hagane steel, ending at the base of a twelve inch, beige hilt, and stored in the safety of a charcoal black sheath. The typical Amegakure katana, bought at a cut-rate thrift shop in the middle of a bad neighborhood. A warmed-over instrument of death, sure... but an instrument of death nonetheless.

Nurhachi, the seventy-year old man in flowing black robes, stands at the bank of a raging river, watching as his cocksure student positions himself in the center of a grass clearing. It drizzles lightly, and the sky is covered in an abundance of ash gray clouds. It is time to see what this red-haired individual can do.

“Begin.” He says in a brusque tone of voice, gesturing for the young man to start.
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Atlas nods and commences to form the proper stance.

It starts with bending the knees a little and distributing the weight on both feet evenly. Until the practitioner finds him or herself in a slightly crouched position. Once that simple feat is accomplished, one must proceed to position their hands correctly. Their primary hand, in this case the right, begins the cycle. He trails his fingers lightly across the surface of the blade’s hilt. It stops, and wraps itself around said hilt tenderly. Without any gripping or clutching involved. On to the next hand… the secondary, in this case, the left.

He wills it, his left hand, to fall beneath the hilt of his sheath, and trails his fingers over the smooth surface of the scabbard. All the while, trying to ignore the anxiety that comes from being observed by a master of the art. His left hand wraps around the hilt of the sheath. He’s completed the stance. Now for the judgment.

Nurhachi watches with a blasé look etched upon his withered face. He seems unimpressed, but appears rigid and powerful, with the raging river roaring behind him like an angered lion. Then, in a swift act of motion, he brings one of his hands out from behind his back and points with index and middle adjoined. He gestures to Atlas... up, down, up, down. And Atlas realizes what he must do.

Abruptly, he falls to a kneeling position, his hands never straying from their original positions. Then, after a quick beat, he lifts himself up to the standing position once more, and Nurhachi ceases his gestures. Atlas continues to do this for what seems like hours. Never straying from his purpose until Nurhachi tells him to stop.

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[/font]

[atem.]

[Learned]

[Estilo]

• Reflex Training
Rank: D, C and B Rank
Effect: D Rank - Improves evasive and deflection/blocking skill marginally. C Rank - Improves evasive and deflection/blocking skill slightly. B Rank - Improves evasive and deflection/blocking skill moderately
Special: None
Drawbacks: Cannot learn Quick Strike training.
Description: The practitioner is put through a series of rigorous repetitive movements to improve their ability to reflexively react to attacks by evading or deflecting/blocking with their sword. As they develop their training, their speed and reflexes slowly increase.
Restriction: Must have a Senpai/Sensei of a Kenjutsu Dojo to learn.

0.10

A Warrior of the Light does not rely on strength alone, he makes use of his opponent's energy too.

When he enters the fight, all he has is his enthusiasm, the moves, and the strikes that he learned during his training. As the fight progresses, he discovers that enthusiasm and training are not enough to win: what counts is experience.

Then he opens his heart to the Universe and asks God to give him the inspiration to turn every blow from his enemy into a lesson in self-defense.

His companions say: "He's so superstitious. He stopped fighting in order to pray; he even shows respect for his opponent's tricks."

A Warrior does not respond to these provocations. He knows that without inspiration and experience, no amount of training will help him.

Paulo Coelho, Warrior of the Light

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It started in the blink of an eye. His next step in training. The next obstacle needed to be crossed in order to gain Nurhachi's acceptance. The primary goal: to stay alive.

Nurhachi strode forward with katana in hand, and Atlas drew his own weapon within the second he had to react. Nurhachi's blade would stab forward, and Atlas would parry, taking a long step backwards to create some distance. A futile act, it seems, as Nurhachi simply advanced with a step of his own and continued to stab forward with his blade, at such a speed that the weapon he held became nothing more than a silver blur. The Red Hot Barbeque would struggle to parry all of the attacks, finding it difficult to match Nurhachi's rapidity and predict where the next blow would come from, but he hung in there despite that. His instinct with his blade, his experience with its handling, had taken over.

But even that had run its course. It wasn't long before Nurhachi landed a blow- not a very hard one, mind you, but enough to send Atlas whimpering backwards in pain and clutching at his chest. Oh, the dismay at the fact that his experience- his beloved instinct- had failed to protect him so! It seemed it wasn't as honed as he hoped it would be.

"What is the matter, fool?" The master would mock. "Have you forgotten the stakes in this little duel of ours? Or do you simply wish to die?"

To die? No! He couldn't. Not while she remained alive. Not until he fulfilled his promise to his dead son. Until the lust for revenge ran dry in his heart.

It was after a silent moment that Atlas would attack with battle-cry and mimicked rage, an action taken to be used as an incentive to restart Nurhachi's attacks. And attack the man did, in a flurry of jabs, stabs, slashes and swipes. Enough to tear a grown pig into shreds.

And during this onslaught of precise assaults and subtle movements, Atlas would simply practice the art of deep breaths and let his body go- filling his mind with confident thoughts and achieved victories. He could do this... if he couldn't, if Nurhachi had believed so, then he would have been dead by now. It was with thoughts like these in mind, that the Red Hot Barbeque dodged, side stepped, pivoted, spun, deflected, evaded and parried his way out of harm's way. His maneuvers were taken so swiftly and fluidly, that the entire battle was beginning to look like a dance of sorts. One practiced with sharpened steel and steely glares. Nurhachi seemed to have grunted with his approval, but had not ceased his attacks.

Wondered Atlas, Did he expect more? All the while bending his body backwards, and evading a slice across the facial region. He wouldn't let up, nonetheless.

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[Ancestor Febrie]

Learned ~

[Estilo]

• Reflex Training
Rank: D, C and B Rank
Effect: D Rank - Improves evasive and deflection/blocking skill marginally. C Rank - Improves evasive and deflection/blocking skill slightly. B Rank - Improves evasive and deflection/blocking skill moderately
Special: None
Drawbacks: Cannot learn Quick Strike training.
Description: The practitioner is put through a series of rigorous repetitive movements to improve their ability to reflexively react to attacks by evading or deflecting/blocking with their sword. As they develop their training, their speed and reflexes slowly increase.
Restriction: Must have a Senpai/Sensei of a Kenjutsu Dojo to learn.

0.30

An evader. A man of swiftness, agility and lithe- that was who he was. Who he was meant to be. Though flaming hot with his jutsu and charisma, he was graceful with blade in hand. Precise and fast, like a monkey... swingin' through the vines of a sunny jungle.
__________________________________________________________________

The fight would continue, and the training would not cease until one man was down for the count. That was Nurhachi's way. And Atlas would abide by it, whether he liked it or not.

The art of evasion was a difficult one to master. Nurhachi would swipe the sixty centimeters of steel in his possession with such speed and gracefulness that every swoop seemed to cut through the fabric of the atmosphere itself. Atlas would evade, parry and defend as best he could... but best was not enough. He would simply have to improve, refine and revamp his reflexes. Because not doing so could very easily result in an untimely death. And he couldn't die now... he wouldn't die now. Not like this.

Swipe!

Nurhachi's blade would swoop swiftly over Atlas' head, slicing off the few strands of red hair caught in its trajectory. After it'd passed, Atlas would promptly raise from his crouched position to parry the following, immediate, blow. He'd done so, effectively, but Nurhachi had simply countered with a wind-fueled spin and a hard elbow to the jaw.

Grunting with his displeasure, Atlas would stagger backwards, barely finding himself to block another strike and dodge a whirlwind of steel directed towards his feet. The old man had been holding back... but now... now he was truly aiming to kill. Or at least render handicapped. And the Red Hot Barbeque couldn't afford to lose one of his limbs just yet. He had a deadline to make. A person to meet. A scumbag to kill. And being in one piece was a definite necessity. Nurhachi would not have his way today. Not if he could help it.

Having created some much needed distance from the Kenjutsu master, Atlas would be surprised to discover exactly how many meters Nurhachi could cross in the blink of an eye. Before he knew it, he was in the danger zone once more, faced with a dreadful onslaught of horizontal slashes. For the love of Bell... did this man ever tire?!

He blocked blow after blow until the sound of steel pounding against steel became a familiar thing to him. A rhythmic din of noise, like the sound of a blacksmith at work, or a percussionist playing his instrument of choice. He began to familiarize himself with this sound, and with the method in which he was deflecting its course of action.

A parry, a block, a rapid lean to the side, followed by another much needed parry. It had all become so clear to him. Everything was so... predictable. That was until Nurhachi decided to go for a vertical slash. Such an unexpected move, at a time of such pride. Oh my!
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[Estilo]

0.30

She brushes a strand of brown hair behind her ear, giving him a blithe wink as she does so. Smiling the way she does, with soft lips and clear green eyes. This girl has him strung along. Hypnotized. She knows it. And he doesn't quite care.

"What's the hold up, Addy? Aren't you paying attention?"
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Thump! Cling!

Thrown back into the reality of the dreadful present, our protagonist finds himself on his back, laying in mud, holding a horizontal block to a vertical attempt at slaughter. He holds the block long enough to push back the old man's steel with his own, and swiftly rolls out of harm's way as another attack swoops through. His opponent's blade strikes at thick mud, barely missing its goal by mere inches. To severe a neck. Nurhachi was definitely not playing around. Or... was he? No time to ponder. To find comprehension behind the vague thoughts of an old coot.

He rolls and slides to his feet in a swift act of motion, leaning his shoulder to the side when a slash threatens its intactness. Nurhachi didn't even hesitate to attack once Atlas regained his bearings and, strangely, Atlas wanted it that way. He could feel his senses growing accustomed to the constant danger he was in. He could feel his body, slightly loosening its nerves and allowing his muscles to feel as light as air. He was becoming more agile by the second, but he needed to continue. This was not his limit.

Nurhachi strikes once more, with a deadly side swipe. Atlas parries it with his blade and prepares himself for an incoming stab. The stab arrives, as quickly as he had expected, and he successfully smacks it off course with the side of his blade. This action has its own consequence, however. Nurhachi manages, with a cunning sense of skill, to disarm Atlas and hold his opponent at bay with the pointed edge of his katana.

He stares at the student in the eyes. A deadly stare, serious and unwavering. "You've lost your weapon. And I've told you the stakes in this duel." Soft rain pitter-patters on the surface of his Hagane steel. "Now survive... or die!"

Nurhachi suddenly lashes out with a flurry of slashes, swipes, stabs and swoops and, with nothing more but the will to stay alive and a sharpened instinct, Atlas reacts the only way he can find himself reacting. Evasively. Matching the speed of his thin body against the speed of Nurhachi's thin blade. Surviving.

He dodges like he's dancing, and Nurhachi's taking the lead. Ugh. He's not used to being the one who follows. But for once... he submits. To follow the man's movements, and react accordingly. Duck, side-step, lean, duck, side-step, side-step, back-step, lean, side-step, lean, back-step, duck...

Dodging fatal blows and powerful movements by the millisecond. All the while keeping an eye out for his fallen katana. If he's going to survive this little test, then he'll have to rearm himself very soon. There was no doubt about it.
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[Estilo]

0.30

Wind. A meadow of golden brown straw. The laughter of a child. A young child, somewhere in the distance. The warmth of her body pressed up against his. His arms wrapped around the one he loves... reclined at the base of an old oak tree. A pneumatic hiss, growing shriller by the second.

"Tell me it's all going to be okay, Addy. Tell me... it's alright." Stop.
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With no weapon in hand, and a master of the sword striking at him without pause or remorse, our protagonist struggles to find an opening and reach for his katana. His body just seems so heavy... so tired and lagging. Not up to par with his expectations. And the attacks seem to be getting faster with the second, coming within deadly chances of striking him at last. He must tango his way out of this dance quickly. Before the steel manages to tear through his flesh. But to do this, he must first enhance and believe that he is fast enough to escape from this precarious situation.

Nurhachi seems to notice the change of expression in the student's eyes. He commences to heighten the speed of his assaults, never faltering in his purpose or technique. Aiming to kill. And surprisingly, the student manages to adjust to such conditions. For him, a master of Kenjutsu, to miss so many attacks! The humiliation! The nerve! This cannot be allowed.

The Red Hot Barbeque becomes aware of his potential teacher's frustration, and turns it into his own advantage. He performs his ducks, his leans, his pivots and evasive steps with an unruffled calm, observing Nurhachi's annoyance and forcing his seemingly weighty body to move. Dragging it through the motions like a limp puppet. Then, when the master swoops in with that one, deadly, vertical slash, he pivots to his left to dodge it and watches as it slams into the muddy ground with such force that it manages to hit solid ground.

Whack!

Showtime. Atlas pounces away, reaching for the katana blade half-concealed within a puddle of muddy water. He falls to a quick crouch when he's inches away from it, and swipes it off the ground, spinning around just in time to block the powerful slash of his death-dealing opponent. The impact forces him backwards, and nearly forces him to stumble on his back, but he holds his balance. He is fast enough. He does have what it takes. He just needs to believe so, and put his experience to use.

Nurhachi strikes again, repeatedly. With a little madness in his eyes. Atlas immediately straightens his posture and deflects with his own blade. It drips with the texture of moist soil. But he doesn't acknowledge it, too focused on not getting his arm chopped off. Too focused on trying to disarm his opponent. The exasperated master of Kenjutsu.

He takes in Nurhachi's physical cues. A horizontal slash is met with a lean backwards, evading an injury on the upper half of his body. A slash across is evaded via stepping backwards and smacking the blade away with his own. He ducks, weaves, blocks and practically flings himself out of harm's way, but always keeps his balance. Always keeps his calm. Calm is the only advantage his has now. Mentally and physically. Calm and instinct. Suddenly, passing by as if in slow motion- an opening! He goes for it, unsure whether it will truly land or not. But ready to face whatever the outcome.

Ka-Kling!

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[Ancestor Febrie]

+30

[Estilo]

• Mae (Front)
Rank: D Rank
Effect: Deflects/blocks a weak (D Rank or less) frontal attack.
Special: None
Drawbacks: None
Description: Commencing from a kneeling position, the practitioner draws their sword to forestall a frontal attack as a simple defense then sheathes.
Restrictions: Must have a Senpai/Sensei of a Kenjutsu Dojo to learn; must have Reflex Training (D Rank) or Quick Strike Training (D Rank)

0.10

A Warrior of the Light who trusts too much in his intelligence will end up underestimating the power of his opponent.

It is important not to forget that sometimes strength is more effective than strategy.

A bullfight is over quickly because the bull quickly learns that it is being tricked, and its next step is to charge the bullfighter. When that happens, no amount of brilliance, argument, intelligence, or charm can avert tragedy.

That is why the Warrior never underestimates brute force. When it proves too violent, he withdraws from the battlefield until his enemy has exhausted himself.

Paulo Coelho, Warrior of the Light

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The disarm had failed and, in the split-second it took for Atlas to realize it, Nurhachi had managed to establish a fair amount of distance. The man was red-faced now- panting, with a hard-hearted glare in his eyes. Atlas figured he was uncomfortable with the fact that he'd only landed a couple of hits. But that didn't mean that he was going to let up soon anyway.

They locked menacing eyes for a moment. Each hand slowly being placed on its respective position. Then it started.

Nurhachi attacked in what some may call blind fury, but what Atlas preferred to refer to as a finely orchestrated attempt at sabotage. He still had respect for the old man after all, despite his hotheaded temper. His attacks were issued as fluidly and swift as before, but this time fueled with pure, senseless rage, and a lust for injury and bloodshed. Atlas would dodge and block them all as he'd done before, trying to hold back the small smile the pierced his lips as he was doing so.

It was only a matter of time before Nurhachi exhausted himself. And the exhaustion was clear, based upon the steep decline of speed and power in his attacks. He swung his blade with as much fervor as an amateur now, going for the most basic of methods and leaving several openings in their wake. Strange, was the first word that came into Atlas’ mind. Very strange. But he had no time to dwell on it. This was the perfect opportunity to take advantage, and perfect his techniques.

From a starting distance of ten meters, Nurhachi would raise his katana for a frontal attack, and charge towards the Red Hot Barbeque in battle cry. It was clear he was going for a vertical slash, and Atlas swiftly fell to kneeling position, knowing just the manner in which he planned to block it. The same way he’d learned when he was a child- such a simple maneuver, for such a simple move.

As Nurhachi drew closer, and just as his blade sliced downward towards its target, Atlas would straighten his posture slightly with his kneeling right foot and wrap his fingers around the hilt of his blade. Then, when the moment of truth struck, he would strengthen his grip on his blade’s sheath with his left hand, and swiftly pull the weapon out some, but not entirely, from its case. The two weapons of death would collide, Nurhachi’s vertical slash pitted against Atlas’ horizontal defense. Everything happening as if in slow motion.

It was important to know just when to draw the blade, and just when to slink it back into its sheath. And, in the case of a Kenjutsu master like Nurhachi, one would have to be twice as careful and precise. The two katanas would grind against each other, each powered by the strength and determination of their masters, and it would seem like Nurhachi had the upper hand, since he was standing and Atlas was practically crouching.

Our protagonist grinds his teeth as he attempts to force the strike backwards. If he fends off his attacker successfully, he would swiftly sheath his blade and prepare for the next attack. But if he fails to do so... well, he didn't want to think about that.

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[Ravenous]

+10

[Estilo]

• Ushiro (Rear)
Rank: D Rank
Effect: Deflects/blocks a weak (D Rank or less) rear attack
Special: None
Drawbacks: None
Description: Commencing from a kneeling position, the practitioner quickly turns and draws to forestall an attack from the rear as a simple defense then sheathes.
Restrictions: Must have a Senpai/Sensei of a Kenjutsu Dojo to learn; must have Reflex Training (D Rank) or Quick Strike Training (D Rank)

0.10

To the town of Agua Fria, rode a stranger one fine day. Hardly spoke to folks around him, didn't have too much to say. No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip, for the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip. A big iron on his hip.

Big Iron- Johnny Cash

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Blocked. Safe. Nurhachi's weak frontal attack had been dismissed like yesterday's paper. Smoothly, and with a wicked grin. A grin that seemed to have infuriated said Kenjustu master. A grin that lit the fuse to a barrage of gleaming assaults.

He'd sheathed his blade after the previous, successful, block, but was forced to bring it out again when Nurhachi started to swing his blade around like he was being attacked by a swarm of bugs. The old man's accuracy was a bit off, but what he lacked in precision this time, he made up for in strength. Each swipe and slash Atlas attempted to counter and parry nearly disarmed him with its power, and he was then forced to use his own body as a means of dodging said attacks. It was after the fourth lean, side-step, swivel, duck, weave that Atlas noticed Nurhachi had suddenly disappeared. A... Shunshin? Where exactly had he gone off to? He wondered, sheathing his blade once more.

Out of warrior instinct, he instantly dropped to one knee and closed his eyes, focusing all of his mental energy on the sense of hearing. The raging river. Crickets sawing. Dragonflies buzzing. Wind blowing. A rustle of dried leaves. He subtly placed his hands on the correct Iaijutsu positions. Right hand on the hilt of his blade, left lightly grasping the hilt of its sheath.

He knew where his enemy would be coming from, and he was glad to be in the right position to deflect the attack that was sure to come, but he only had a second to react. And the block he planned on using... the Ushiro... he hadn't been forced to use it in such a long time. No doubt, it brought some tension to his mind. Tension he was forced to push away.

Propelling his body to turn around by pushing with the soles of his feet, our protagonist manages to spin around from his currently knelt position. During those milliseconds of movement, he makes sure to keep the weight on each foot balanced, and his hands where they should be. Then, in mid-turn, he commences to draw his blade, everything seeming to pass by slowly. He was right. Nurhachi had decided to attack him from the rear. He could see the old man now- the deadly expression on his face, the shine of his silver katana blade cutting downwards in a rapid slice of motion. His finger clicks open the blade and wraps around the hilt with its brethren. He draws it swiftly and smoothly, and manages to block the incoming assault just in time.

Kling!

But he begins to feel something... like a lagging feeling, pulling him behind, threatening to throw him off balance. Is he overreacting? Or was he really about to screw the pooch?

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[Ancestor Febrie]

+10

[Estilo]

• Kesagiri (Diagonal Cut)
Rank: D Rank
Effect: Deflects/blocks an approaching weak (D Rank or less) attack
Special: None
Drawbacks: None
Description: Commencing from a standing position, the practitioner draws and forestalls an approaching attacker as a simple defense then sheathes.
Restrictions: Must have a Senpai/Sensei of a Kenjutsu Dojo to learn; must have Reflex Training or Quick Strike Training (D Rank)(D Rank)

0.10

Sweat drips down the master’s brow. His face is all snarls and bad intentions. He glares at our protagonist with fury that would send the typical commoner scurrying for safety. But Atlas simply takes it with caution, and just a pinch of humor, as he slowly took a few steps backwards. Katana in hand, eager to put some distance between him and his seemingly infuriated opponent.

It is then that Nurhachi falls into Battojutsu stance and prepares his blade, unblinking and keeping his solid stare on Atlas, whom mimics the master’s action and counters it with the Iaijutsu posture. Whatever attack may come, he is prepared for an attempt at evading it. But one can never tell, with a man like Nurhachi Niru.

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The wind blows and a small gust of leaves passes between them. Atlas fidgets in place, suddenly feeling nervous, but Nurhachi remains still. Then, after the silence of their stares had gone on for a while, Nurhachi takes an immediate step forward and propels himself towards Atlas with katana raised. No battle cry this time. Just the sound of heavy breathing and soft, hurried footsteps.

The world seems to freeze. The Red Hot Barbeque struggles to force his body into a kneeled position once more to block. He is standing, his sword is still sheathed, and his opponent is only seconds away from tearing him in half. There is no time to think. No time to plan or strategize. But just enough time to react.

So he does so. He begins to remove his blade from its sheath, all the while keeping his eye on the trajectory of Nurhachi’s steel, and adheres to his instinct. Pulling his blade out swiftly and without pause with his single right hand, Atlas fends off the incoming attack by mere inches, using his entire arm- his entire body- to strengthen the counter and keep it away from his flesh.

Saching!

Nurhachi darts by, his assault unsuccessful, and passes the man he’d attempted to kill. Atlas smiles, sheathing his blade once more, as it is customary in the art. But when the footsteps behind him suddenly pause, he quickly spins around, in unison with Nurhachi. Their places essentially switched, from their initial starting points.

The look in the Kenjutsu master’s eyes seem to suggest he’s going for the attack once more, and Atlas is all for it. After all, he’d defended himself just recently. What would be the harm in doing it once more?

Taking the Iaijutsu stance again, he glares into Nurhachi’s eyes stronger than before. A glare that says, Bring it, old man. I’ve got all the time in the world! Nurhachi perceives the stare in such a way, and issues the Battojutsu stance with a powerful aura about him. Hell bent on teaching this jackass a lesson.

Then, as silently and determined as before, he dashes forward for the attack, this time set upon slicing the red-head with a diagonal cut. Said red-head, however, takes notice of Nurhachi’s next move based on the small physical cues he so quickly manages to spot. The way his arms are bent, the location of Nurhachi’s hands and the posture in which the upper half of his body is positioned.

He clicks open his blade seconds before Nurhachi arrives, and grasps its hilt with his right hand. Then, when the moment is ripe, he pulls it out and holds it horizontally in the air with both hands. This is it. His moment of truth or death, since the possibility of Nurhachi taking a completely different move in the last second and ripping him apart was very probable, considering the man’s reputation.

Will the Red Hot Barbeque parish, or emerge the victor at last?
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[Ravenous]

+10

[Estilo]

• Tsuka-ate (Striking with the Hilt)
Rank: D Rank
Effect: Prevents a weak (D Rank or less) strike from the front and deflects/blocks a weak (D Rank or less) attack from the rear.
Special: None
Drawbacks: None
Description: Commencing from a raised knee, seated position, the practitioner uses the hilt to strike the weapon-hand of an front attacker, then draws and forestalls an attack from then rear then sheathes.
Restrictions: Must have a Senpai/Sensei of a Kenjutsu Dojo to learn; must have Reflex Training (D Rank) or Quick Strike Training (D Rank)

0.10

The block had been successful, but in a flurry of motion, our protagonist had found himself disarmed shortly afterwards, with the tip of Nurhachi’s blade pointed at his bare throat.

Showing absolutely no signs of anger or frustration, the old man spoke. “You’ve conducted yourself well in battle. You’ve shown me you can deflect and counter the most basic of attacks with ease. Yet, there is still a lot of work to be done with you. Several openings you’ve given me throughout our duel. Several faults and weaknesses.” He drops his blade to his side.

“So tell me... are you prepared to endure my tutelage to correct those faults... or not?”

...several weeks later...

Training under Nurhachi’s guidance was no easy thing. It was most certainly a stressful position to be in, as the old man found pleasure in sending his lackeys to do the most trivial and mundane tasks. The lazy bum. Atlas had only stayed with him for so long to finish up his Kenjustu training. He absolutely loathed doing the man’s laundry, buying his groceries, scrubbing the floors of his nomadic home... but there was one task that he quite enjoyed.

Young hopefuls who wished to become honorable swordsman constantly showered a man of Nurhachi’s caliber with propositions and requests. They visited the master’s residence on a frequent basis, often in groups, pleading for his teachings. But the old man was often aloof and unwilling to even show his face around these weaklings, and would send the Red Hot Barbeque as a test.

To whomever defeated the red-haired warrior, they would take his place as an apprentice and serve under Nurhachi’s tutelage. Let the games begin.
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A single pair of brothers. Degenerates, not much older than nineteen or twenty, looking for a faster way to die. As if Amegakure’s current state of corruption and danger wasn’t threatening enough. They had so foolishly decided to face off against the Red Hot Barbeque. Individually at first, but later deciding it’d be much easier if they’d simply worked together to reach their goal. To kill Atlas and claim it was done honorably in a one-on-one duel. Pfft. Fools.

They begin to circle the red-haired warrior like a pair of cackling hyenas, katanas sheathed but their hands placed firmly in an offensive stance. One of them stops in front of Atlas, the other covers his rear. Our protagonist smiles, and slowly drops to one knee, sliding both his hands into the proper Iaijutsu positions. It’s time to practice a technique his master had explained to him just yesterday. Might as well, with opponents as witless and weak as these.

It all starts immediately after the position is performed. Atlas’ eyes keep a constant vigilance on his opponent’s hands, the one who stands before him, but they don’t stare. Staring would give away his intentions. And while he does this, he keeps his senses alert for any movement or sounds coming from behind, where his other opponent stands. The technique is all about vigilance, reaction and prevention. Not to mention speed, of which Atlas is confident he possesses.

When the opponent in front of him begins to draw his cheap excuse for a blade, the world delves into a sort of slow-motioned reality. With this enemy’s aggressive action, it is only right to think that the opponent behind him is going into action as well. After all, they had decided to make this a team effort. So obviously, with the adversaries attacking from both sides, it is time to perform the Tsuka-ate.

His first objective, preventing the frontal opponents attack. The man had already begun to draw his sword, but so had Atlas, who’d anticipated a hurried and reckless action from the individual. The unsheathing of their blades were only seconds apart from each other, but while the opponent sought to draw his entire blade, Atlas only sought to extend it far enough to use his hilt effectively. Thus, with such a simple action performed, paired beside his enhanced and speedy reflexes, Atlas had the upper hand. He takes a quick step forward, rising from his somewhat seated position, to cover the distance between his enemy, and strikes the man’s weapon hand with the hilt of his semi-unsheathed blade. The action knocks the adversary’s blade back into its sheath and forces the man to whimper in pain, clutching at his hand and stumbling backwards. The entire thing was hilarious to witness, but there was no time to spend relishing it.

See, there was still the issue of the second brother, attacking from the rear. And there was definitely no time to spin around and prevent that attack. Only time to deflect. So, as if his life was depending on it- which it might as well be- Atlas spun around, pushing on the heel of his foot for momentum, and unsheathed his blade in a blur of motion, striking at the gleaming ray heading straight towards him.

Ching!

The man’s sword was successfully deflected, and the second brother falls on his ass. Dumbfounded and scared shitless. Atlas gives a toothy smile, devilish and confident, sheathing his katana but keeping his hand firmly on the hilt of his blade. He’ll wait for the brothers to ready up again, and see if they’re willing to go another round. After all, he was just getting warmed up.

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[hoshiro]

+10

[Estilo]

[atrb=cellpadding,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450, true][atrb=rules,none][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: #2c2c2c; -moz-border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px][atrb=style,padding-top:15px;][atrb=align,left] Ochiru Ame no Jutsu (Falling Rain Technique) Rank: "D", "C", "B", "A", "S" Skill: Ninjutsu Effect: User creates rainfall Special: "Handseals" Drawback: Nothing besides continous mana drain. Description: * "D" - User uses chakra to throw water, either summoned through her Kuchiyose technique or water randomly lying around, into the air and suspended there for a few turns, dependent on how much chakra User uses. Limit: Water Release

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[atrb=cellpadding,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450, true][atrb=rules,none][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: #2c2c2c; -moz-border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px][atrb=style,padding-top:15px;][atrb=align,left] Amegakure was quiet, so Atlas decided to take the day off and head over to a recently rebuilt park outside of the gates. The day was cloudy and moisture hung in the air listlessly. But no rain. How unfitting, Atlas mused. Maybe I can change that, to keep with the theme. So, with that thought, he proceeded to tackle the task of creating rainfall. He started by executing a short string of hand seals, and ending powerfully on the rat seal. Holding this posture, he would begin to gather his chakra within his being. This enhanced state of mind, which he kept fluid and open with deep breaths of air, allowed him to discern the presence of multiple puddles of water scattered around the muddy park grass. It was with this water that he created a mental bond with, focused on using his chakra to amplify it and turn it into a temporary shower of rain. Then, slowly, he actually began to exert his gathered chakra into the environment and through the ground. Its sole purpose was to integrate itself with the largest puddle there, so that it would provide the most water available. He had to admit, it was a little difficult running his chakra through the moist soil and trying to keep it in line, but he got through it nonetheless. Once he felt his chakra settle nicely within the large pool of dirtied water he had spotted, Atlas commenced to strengthen his bond with that single puddle and connect with the fluid element on a mental level. A coolness swept through him, and he knew he'd completed his attempt successfully. After taking notice of this, Atlas tightened his rat seal and forced the chakra-infused water to explode upwards and into the sky. Then he willed it to stop in mid-air, and spread around with the other water molecules in the air to create a faint representation of a cloud. It appeared like a thin mist in the air, but Atlas only got so far until he began to feel some resistance. The cloud was on the brink of collapsing, it seemed. He pumped it up with a considerably gracious bonus of more chakra and, slowly, he began to see a change in the tint of the cloud. With his focus and held seal, the cloud he'd created went from a light, almost invisible white, to a ashy gray. This was it, he could feel his chakra pulsing in balance within his little creation. But now he needed the cloud to start raining, and he would cringe his brow trying to do so mentally. This, however, did not bring him any success, and he pondered defiantly in his mind... why? Then a thought. Maybe it was all his fault. After all, he was still focused on keeping it stable as a cloud. Maybe he just needed to release his hand seal, and his influence over the cloud, and just let nature be. With this theory in his mind, he did just that. He didn't release his chakra control over it too fast, mind you, but gradually. The effects of this plan would be become apparent in the next few seconds of waiting.

[Deleted]

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[Estilo]

[atrb=cellpadding,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450, true][atrb=rules,none][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: #2c2c2c; -moz-border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px][atrb=style,padding-top:15px;][atrb=align,left] Suichuu (Underwater) Rank: D Skill: Ninjutsu Effect: Allows the user stay underwater for some time. Difficulty Class * D Rank Difficulty Class - 20 minutes * C Rank Difficulty Class - 40 minutes * B Rank Difficulty Class - 80 minutes * A Rank Difficulty Class - 120 minutes * S Rank Difficulty Class - 180 minutes Special: "Handseals" Drawback: After returning to surface the user must rest half of the time used underwater. As example, if the user has stayed under for 20 minutes, he’ll have to rest 10 minutes before the jutsu can be used again. Description: Simple technique used by channeling chakra to mouth, lungs, ears and eyes. With chakra moved to mouth and lungs the user gathers air from the water and is able breath underwater, chakra guided to ears protects from the aching caused by pressure, lenses of chakra protecting eyes work like swim goggles. Limit: Anyone can learn it, the technique doesn’t even need a scroll, smart ninjas should be able to figure out the process on their own.

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Thanks Ioshiii.

[atrb=cellpadding,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450, true][atrb=rules,none][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: #2c2c2c; -moz-border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 20px 0px][atrb=style,padding-top:15px;][atrb=align,left] He took a few deep breaths, opening the veins of chakra within his body and willing himself into warmth. He felt the energy surging through his body, tendrils of chakra shooting up his spine and shocking him awake. The chakra within him was becoming balanced, and he slowly began to pinpoint his throat and mouth as an area to gather some of that power. He was about to enter a deep pool of water, and his task was to simply hold his breath down there as long as he could, using the chakra arts as a means of doing so. Sucking in a deep breath of air, and intermingling it with this energy, he jumped off the steep incline of grass and into the cold pool of water beneath. His fall would be quick, but in the midst of it, Atlas would focus on drawing all of his chakra towards his lungs and clutching onto his breath of air with it. His plummet into the freezing water was nearly overwhelming, to the point where his body was practically begging him to release his captured air, but he hung in there despite all of that. The chakra he'd gathered around his mouth and lungs, coating its surface and helping him in his endeavor to sustain oxygen, reinforced his confidence in the attempt of this technique. He felt the chakra sucking in oxygen through his nostrils, drawing the much needed element from the water he dwelt in. For a moment, his nostrils had sucked in water by accident, but that was the consequence of not paying attention to the control of said energy. His vigilance would pay off and after a few minutes of simply floating underwater and breathing in, Atlas decided he'd push this technique a bit farther. He decided he'd go for a swim, deeper into the dark of the lake. As he swam, he noticed that the water was getting thicker, his advancement towards the deep running slower, and the pressure in his ears growing heavy. Gradually, he began to redirect some of his chakra towards his ears, something he realized he should have done at the beginning of this jutsu. A few moments passed, and he noticed the pressure in his ears lessening. Good, but now he was faced with another dilemma. The salt and muck in the water was hurting his eyes as he swam, stinging them within and forcing him to blink endlessly. Using some of the chakra he coated against his mouth and lungs, he focused on the protection of his outer eyes and felt as the energy crept along its surface. Before long, his vision underwater was enhanced at last, and he found himself swimming comfortably downwards. Despite him being there for over fifteen minutes, Atlas kept on swimming around. He wanted to test how long he could hold this chakra enhanced breath before succumbing to the perils of the deep. It was only when he felt the presence of the chakra coating his lungs and mouth slowly begin to recede, that Atlas spun around mid-swim and began his journey upwards towards the surface. As this exertion continued, swinging his arms and legs in an effort to catch a fresh breath of air as soon as possible, he felt the technique dissipating. It had been twenty minutes, and he had taken as much as he could for now. So he bit lightly on his lip as he struggled to hold in his chakra long enough to reach the surface safely.