Sunlit Soirée (Private)

The fog bank had rolled in during the day and it was thick enough that the sun was simply unable to burn it away like it normally would. The training grounds Sorethin sat within were a tree filled place, smelling of nature and the day was beautiful. The sun streamed through the fog, causing the thickened air to be illuminated in a ghostly way and the shadows of the tree's cast long lines of darkened air rather than simply casting themselves upon the ground. The tall, broad shouldered man sat upon a large stone, cross legged with sake bottles strewn about him. Most were full, some were empty. He had yet to become inebriated. Although anyone who saw the amount he had ingested would think he was immediately. In reality though he was still quite sober. On his way to a comfortable buzz, but still quick sober. The evening light of the sun was fading, and soon the orb would fall below the horizon and the beautiful scene around him would vanish. At least he had it this time, and he could recall it when he wanted to experience it again.

He loved nature, loved life, and he pondered things quietly as he knocked back another drink of sake in relative silence. Upon him sat black clothing, a black muscle shirt, black shinobi pants and boots. Upon his shoulders sat a large coat, although his arms weren't in the sleeves. His shoulder length black hair was pulled into a casual tail and his jaw beard was neatly trimmed and short. His brilliant green eyes took in his surroundings again, enjoying the way the fog played against the light and the shadows hung about. He stopped to pour another drink of sake into the cup and knock it back and let the slow burn of the rice wine envelop him for a moment before swallowing. Then he would sigh in contentment before leaning back a bit on the boulder, resting his weight upon his hands. When the sun went down he would start to train. He had work to do, but one had to appreciate the little things too.

Through the tangled, grasping fingers of mist, among the twisted, bare branches of the trees, underneath the sunset sky, a single voice sung out, like a brook running across a frozen stream. It wove a tale of heartache and sadness in a voice as delicate as glass and soft as the morning dew, and the tale had no end, just empty promises of a better future. Though the song had no words, it vocalized her hurts and worries, every thought she could not trust to be spoken, every hurt of hers that had long gone unavenged. Here it was let out in the only way she had, amongst the winding paths of the isolated areas she and her brethren used to practice the arts of war.

She was a slip of a girl, winding through the shrouded air as if every step had a purpose. Other than the movement of her lips humming her song, there was little emotion to her face, still as porcelaine. And set within the doll-like face were burning red eyes, glowing like fires deep within the recesses of her skull. She was dressed in nothing special; a white kimono, the type many girls her age wear, except for the traditional make and the red eye stitched on the back. This was harshly juxtaposed by the leather belt cinched around her waist. Though of the highest quality make, the thick, embossed material was at odds with the delicate appearance of the outfit and her own elvish features.

The mist parted around her as the trees widened into the training ground; she was familiar enough with this place now to call it her second home. Now, as the sun set, was when she liked to come, when no sane Ninja would train, save for those practicing their nighttime maneuvers or - like her - here to avoid the annoyances of other humans. At this time of night, the only company she had were the owls and the foxes, and that’s the way she liked it. Her song reached a crescendo and ended, matching her first step into the training ground, as if planned. Not that she’d ever admit to counting the paces and matching it with the beat of the song.

A sigh wracked her frame and though cold started to seep into the surrounding area, she began to undress; not fully, of course, but with a flourish the white kimono came off, carefully hung on a nearby branch, and what was underneath was much more appropriate for a Ninja … relatively speaking. The leather belt, embossed with gold and with a clasp to match the symbol on the back of her kimono, cinched a skirt and tunic at her waist. Though obviously fitted to her, she wore no leggings with it, nor did she have sleeves on the tunic, leaving her with a tight outfit - the skirt barely covered her thighs - and much exposed skin. With this, she was shod in leather combat boots. A shiver rose goosebumps on her pale skin, but she ignored it, instead wrapping her painted fingers, glittering golden in the dappled light, around the hilt of her sword.

And then a noise.

In a single, smooth motion, she drew her sword and whirled on her feet, red eyes flaring with all the intensity of a raging bonfire. She could have sworn there was no one here when she- a gasp left her. He was a font of energy, a pillar of power that had her hands shaking on the hilt of her sword. Almost as quickly as she had taken it, she left the pose, sheathing her sword and quickly apologizing. Someone with an aura that potent … her father would never let her hear the end of it if she offended him.

”... forgive me, sir.”

Her voice was pure like glass, but just as jagged and cold; though not lifeless, there was much anger vibrating between the sweet soprano. And though her face showed no emotion, her eyes showed much, for as they fell on him, they flared even more intensely, flicking between his face and the bottles of alcohol on the ground. A very slight sneer leapt to her upper lip; she hated louts. ‘Twas a hatred spurned by her father and her own distaste of uselessness. Who was this man, anyway, with such a Chakra pool, to have the time and energy to waste away their days being hapless?

”... ‘tis not my place to ask, but … who are you?”

She winced as the words left her mouth. Though she didn’t intend to, it was a harsh, accusatory barb of a question.

As he sat, enjoying the taste of his sake and the sounds and sights of nature surrounding him, a new noise would begin to echo through the mist. He would tilt his head up, letting an ear catch the haunting hum of a woman. The mist caused the noise to echo around the trees and air as a ghostly hymn and he found himself enjoying it thoroughly as he indulged in another drink. The setting sun off in the distance would still peak its way through the trees, causing rays of light to cut across that was amplified by the mist. As he leaned back on his hands a smile would adorn his features as the sound grew louder. Whoever the girl was that was humming, she was coming closer. That was a welcome bit of knowledge to Sorethin. It meant he would have some company soon and that always made the day seem brighter. Or was it evening in this case? Meh, either way. It would make for a nice change. As he waited and the sound of her humming came ever closer he would lapse back into listening to the song. The hauntingly beautiful melody drifting over him and throughout the area and making it seem to come alive.

Not too long from then, the song would cease and Sorethin would hear the soft footfalls of someone walking into the clearing. He would open his eyes, the mist making it a bit harder to see but still more than possible for someone with his trained eyes and he would see the woman. She was a small thing, maybe an inch shy of five foot, which made her a foot and a half shorter than he himself at his 6'5. She was thin, but had a bit more than average curves. She moved with a lithe, feline grace and wore a white kimono, a leather belt, and combat boots. He admired for a moment, and especially when she whipped the kimono off and hung it over a tree. The custom fitted outfit beneath it suited her and the shinobi work quite well. A tight skirt and tunic, with no leggings or sleeves. She didn't even have leggings underneath the skirt with the material barely reaching down to her thighs. She shivered with a slight chill in the air and as she wrapped a hand around the hilt of her sword he would sigh audibly, now alerting her to the presence she had missed.

When she whipped around, her sword sliding out of it's sheathe he would already be off his hands and sitting, cross legged with one hand on his knees and the other holding another filled cup of sake. When she turned toward him, sword drawn, it would take a split second before she gasped. The black haired Sorethin would tilt his head once more, looking at her curiously his brilliantly green eyes upon her. She sheathed her sword and apologized quickly. When she spoke he could hear the anger running through her emotions. It made itself known in every word. Her face was calm and neutral, as beautiful as a porcelain dolls, but her eyes held a fury. He watched them fall to him and then to the bottle of sake surrounding him. That would illicit a chuckle from from, his deep voice resounding through the mist. Then she would ask the question, who was he? The question was barbed, harsh as steel wool and his chuckle would continue through it.

"I suppose I must have disturbed you somehow and you feel angry over it? Despite my being here first?" He would say, ignoring the question. "Let's play a game, draw that sword of yours again, and cut me. Do it, and give me a lasting injury, one that'll scar. Succeed and I will leave you to your apparent training. If you succeed in only drawing blood but not in scarring me, I'll give you my name, but will remain regardless. If you fail entirely, then you simply get nothing, except an audience." He would say, his chuckle now gone and his green eyes still upon her. Once he spoke he would try to add a bit of insult to injury and knock back the cup of sake in his hands before refilling it. Calmly, and as if he was in absolutely no danger whatsoever.

Her opinion of him didn’t change much as time began to pass. As a matter of fact, it only threw into light the audacity of this man, to come here and drink and litter the ground with his waste. Her ire rising, she forced herself to calm down. ‘Twas not her place to pass judgement, though the mere thought of this man sent ants skittering across her skin. Though he wasn’t, her thoughts of him lent him a dirty, disgusting air, with matted hair across his forehead and an aura of filth and disgust. Her overactive imagination even made it almost seem as if she could smell him from here, despite the distance between both of them.

And he wasn’t sorry! He was absolutely, unapologetically disgusting, and had nothing to say for it! He sat there, with a grin like all was right with the world, like he didn’t want to make Katrina boil the ground wherever he stepped! Though her emotions boiled under the surface, there was no outward indication, save for the red flames burning in her eyes to flare, like adding fuel to a bonfire. They burned with an unnatural intensity, blazing with all the inner fire her face was trained to hide. As he spoke - and at the offer - her hand tightened on the hilt of her sword until the knuckles turned white; and though it was faint, the corners of her mouth lifted just so, the shadow of a smirk appearing on her stone-etched features.

”... it’s your funeral.”

With the same, stone-cold expression on her face, she drew her blade, the whisper of steel-on-steel filling the wooded training area. Now that it was in the open, it was obvious it was a beautiful piece, though the make was nothing special. Golden-wrapped handle, a tsuba in the shape of a phoenix, and with a sageo made of braided, golden silk. Etched on the black blade was an ice-blue flame, fitting into the flame motif of the saya. With the precise movements of someone all-too-familiar with a blade, the pointed tip was held aloft; anyone practiced with the sword would recognize the two-handed stance as the beginning step of Kendo. She breathed in, letting the cool evening air fill her lungs, then out, her hazy breath filling the air in front of her. Blazing eyes never left him, focused on the spot where she was going to strike. With the same determined gaze, her knuckles tightened ...

And like a viper, she slashed, sharp blade tearing through cloth and flesh, scoring a deep gash against his flesh; she even thought she felt it strike against bone! She had kept her eyes on him the entire time, her Dojutsu active of course, and she felt no fluctuation in his chakra, nor did he make any move to block or deflect it in any way. For just a moment, fear gripped her; did she just fulfill a suicidal man’s wish? But she swiped it away; it didn’t matter, after all. A man like him would be better off dead. Satisfaction replaced the fear, of a job well done and in her own abilities. In the same motion as her attack, she flicked the blade off and sheathed it, breathing deep one more time.

OOC:
Techniques Used: Kendo Stance: 1 CP
Akayurei: .5 CP

CP: 48.5/50

Strength: C (C+)
Constitution: D
Stamina: D
Speed: C
Coordination: C (B)
Intelligence: D
Perception: B (B+)

Little Black Book: Link

He watched her as she reacted to his words. Her hands tightening on the hilt of her sword until her knuckles turned white. The fiery anger in her eyes as they glowed with a red fire. He felt a cheeky grin come across his features as he sat on his rock. Otherwise not moving. Next to him, out of her line of sight sat a massive weapon. A sword that held none of the grace and elegance of the sword as her hip. His was no more than a giant slab of metal with an edge. It weighed 200 lbs and while he could wield it, it was only a just thing. Lifting it up was one thing, but wielding it was quite another entirely and he had brought the weapon with him in order to begin practicing with it. He figured he would get used to the heavy blade over time and that it would be a great way for him to progress. Where the blade sat would be out of her line of sight. As she was in front of him and the weapon was leaning on the rock behind him, the weapon diagonal with the rock and ground and his body would hide it from her view. He did not make to grab for the weapon though, instead he sat there, sake cup in one hand, bottle in the other. His arms were spread out to give her a better choice of target strikes and he watched and waited. His forest green eyes moving up and down her as she took her form.

It was a learning experience for him too you see, and he admired her balanced position, and simply her appearance in general as he watched her. All the while his grin would not leave his features. When she said 'it's your funeral' his grin would almost blossom into a full smile at that. There was certainly no risk of that happening if she was just trying to scar him. She would have to go for a full on head chop and if she tried that he would be able to react in time without too much issue. As he sat, he began to gather in nature chakra. The life energy of the world around them and his nature chakra pool would begin to fill. It wasn't noticeable to sensors and dojutsu and as he began to gather he would become perfectly still.

Not many people can do that, but any sage worth their salt can. The ability to stop all bodily movement. To become what would essentially be a statue. It was a bit creepy to see he was told, but he kept his amber eyes on her as he gathered the nature energy calmly. He needed to gather it eventually anyway and he might as well while she was gathering herself to slash at him. Of course it was when that thought came across his mind that she would move and a hot flash of pain would cut down his chest. His shirt would be cut aside and he would feel a few ribs break from the impact. Not only that but as she slashed the forward motion cut into him at the end of it and he felt his liver get cut. When she was back in her position, nearly black blood would begin to gush from the bottom of the slash. It was the colour that confirmed a hit to the liver and as more blood began to gush from his chest his amber eyes would meet hers. "Hey nice job, you cut me." He would say with a genuine smile on his features. He was used to pain from training and testing his regenerative capabilities. It would also be important to note that the blood spray that came from the cut due to the initial release would fly straight toward her. Potentially covering her in his blood.

In speaking of those capabilities. As he spoke to her, congratulating her, his body would begin to heal. The blood pouring out of him would cease, including the nearly black blood of the liver and his skin would visible knit together. His shirt was slashed clean open, revealing his thoroughly muscled chest and the slash was quite visible to the woman. So she would have quite the view of him healing without seeming any effort. When it was all done, there wouldn't be a single mark to show the location of the slash. It was as if he had never been cut at all and his grin became somewhat wolfish. "Didn't scar me though. That means you get my name, and I expect you to give yours in return now. It's only polite. I however am Sorethin Senju, Jounin." He would say, introducing himself with a small bow of his head. "You are however stuck with me I'm afraid, unless you choose to leave of course. I was just about to start training myself. When I arrived I simply saw the scenery and just had to take the time to admire and enjoy it. So I sat down to enjoy a drink for a while until the sunset." He would explain, his tone laid back and casual. He was completely relaxed and for all one was concerned he might not ever have been cut. "I'm kinda glad I get to stay too, anyway I can convince you to sing? Your humming was beautiful." He would say as he turned to one side and hefted the sword that leaned against the rock behind him up. He move it to the forefront and stuck it blade first into the ground before nodding his head in approval and then taking all of the sake bottles he had emptied and beginning to seal them away into a storage scroll he kept on hand. He was not actually a litterbug. A Senju litter bug would be quite off to see to be completely honest. As he was gathering the empty bottles though he also picked up the nearly full one and offered it to the the woman. "Drink?" He would ask, his head tilted, a casual smile still adorning his features.

Nature Energy gathered: 10/130

-2 CP from regeneration 258 remaining.