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Topics - Fraudulent

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 5
General Discussion / My birthday
« on: October 25, 2018, 00:26:58 »
It's my birthday today.
I can watch porn legally now.

Music / Defrosting SLO with icy tunes
« on: December 25, 2017, 20:57:19 »
Don't ask questions

General Discussion / Chapter 13 - Burn, baby, burn
« on: July 08, 2017, 16:57:56 »
Dara sauntered stealthily towards his unwelcomed visitors; persistent with the same nasty smirk, he managed to attract their attention.

“Give him a little longer, and you will become witnesses of the true power hidden within”

The rescue squad hastily pulled back with alert and stared at the tall, half naked, well-built figure towering above them.
Vizier’s kunai glistened to the candlelight as he raised it at Dara.

“Who are you, and where’s Kimoto?!” he yelled.

Dara raised his chin with arrogance and withdrew his katana from behind – it had a black blade made from the highest quality obsidian shards.

“My name is unimportant; it is my blade you will remember”

“As for your friend… rummage through that pile over there, you might find something” he twisted his body, placing a pile of bones and skulls in the spotlight.

Nibui raised himself and staggered around in a small circle in front of Vizier.

“Brother…” painful groans escaped his lips as the now burned shirt tore off his body, clearly revealing the marking on his back.

The spotlight found itself on the young leader as attention was drawn to him.

“Enough talking!” one of the members of the pursuit squad initiated an attack, angrily dishing out a shuriken towards Dara.

Although the deadly weapon ripped through the air at grand speeds, Dara remained stationary and clamped it with two fingers right in the circular gap at the centre.

“Are you sure you wanted to do that?” Dara tilted his head in question, his tone of voice dispersed chills down the spines of his enemies.

“Here, you can have another try” He pulled back and sent the shuriken to the right, it quickly boomeranged at a low angle in an oval motion towards the squad member. This time the weapon was dispatched at immeasurable speeds, and it was only a matter of a couple seconds before it began tearing flesh away, as each individual blade scraped and tugged at the abdomen of the shinobi.

“…What the?” the injured man looked down, clueless as to what had just happened. He was not in agony or heavy pain. His face drew sullen and eyes grew pale to the sight of his guts, as they protruded from the laceration caused by the shuriken.

Dara stretched his arms out from side to side and yawned with boredom.
“Shame… thought we could play a little longer”

What is this crude monster…? Vizier found it hard to comprehend what was happening. This was something he had never come across, and the fact that it was occurring before his eyes alarmed him greatly.

Stalling around will only delay our inevitable fate – we must do something now Sweat had begun building up as anxiety overwhelmed him and everyone on the rescue mission.

A series of earth spikes began breaking through the ground as Dara pounced away from each one.

“Not good enou—“ His sudden emotional change disturbed his thought track as Dara soon found himself within an earth dome mid-air.

“Now everyone except Nibui, increase the layers!” Vizier barked from behind. His palms sweatier than ever, his heart pounded like drums from within.

Every other shinobi waved hand-seals around and increased the layers of earth around the dome which covered Dara, it had now taken the shape of one massive, hard lump of earth which incarcerated the single entity.

Nibui had become fully aware by this point, and began to swiftly forge his own set of hand seals.
His fingers shifted to the shape of a scope near his mouth, as Nibui exhaled a powerful stream of fire which collided with the earth dome, making it progressively hotter on the inside.

“There’s no way he can leave this untouched” Vizier exclaimed. A glimpse of hope had rushed through him.

“Fire style – infernal embodiment jutsu” the muffled voice from within the dome silenced the crowd.


Without warning, the dome was punctured from the front as a large, fiery arm hurriedly swarmed outwards, leaving chunks of rock to drop beneath him.

The men only had enough time to bounce backwards in defence before the large arm grappled three of the shinobi, weakening the earth dome and delivering panic across the temple.

Their torsos began tarnishing and burning away as the grip tightened, leaving behind nothing but bloodied and incinerated corpses.

Why is this happening? Why can I feel this pain on my back? Nibui withdrew from the attack and dropped to his knees one more time.

Dara also withdrew his arm back into the dome.

89… aaaaand 90… he has finally broken the threshold and entered the zone Dara giggled from within, his nasty smirk returned as a challenge finally arose.

The young boy’s body began morphing mentally and physically. Veins emerged to the surface as his blood began to boil. His consciousness had drifted off into a distant reality – a reality where the only goal for his soul was to embrace the energy, let it take over and eliminate the opposition.

Energy, energy.
Giving it everything.
Blade goes through enemies, no one is brave.
Murdering, murdering.
Eliminate everything.
Everyone’s getting it, no one is safe.

General Discussion / Chapter 12 - Awakening
« on: June 24, 2017, 16:15:28 »
The scorching desert sands made their way between the travellers’ dry toes, under their feet and back out from the rear of the sandal as Nibui and the team strolled through the uncanny location.

“I see a village over there!” everyone was startled into full awareness as Nibui pointed towards his discovery.

“It looks empty and… dead – I wonder where everyone is” the red-haired girl questioned as her eyebrows portrayed her confusion.

“I don’t know, but this heat is really getting to me” Nibui whined from the front as he began clawing at his back; something did not feel right.

I’m pretty sure I cleaned myself before we left, why am I getting this strange itch?

The old man of the pack subtly cleared his throat and enlightened the team as he adjusted the rags around his head and body.

“There was a massacre here around ten years ago, or at-least that was the rumour that somehow made its way to me during my training period”

“A massacre ten years ago? – Then why does it lead to Kimoto now?” One of the men from the pursuit squad spoke up from behind, his question was equally as significant to the others as it was to him.

“God knows…”
Vizier’s low tone of reply sent chills down each spine around him, even in the burning heat of North Eastern Hokorigakure.
Everyone was shaken on the inside as they glanced at each other with concern.

The team was silent for the rest of their journey to the village, even the loudmouthed Nibui kept low and alert, which was a huge surprise to everyone, especially Vizier.

Anticipation grew on everyone with each step in the sand, the reunion with Kimoto was something long awaited.

The sensation on Nibui’s back bloomed further, and he couldn’t quite understand what was happening. It thumped harder and harder, sending unknown signals to his brain – this made him alert; he felt a great force getting closer and closer as they strolled towards the entrance of the village.

Why can I feel such an immeasurable force coming towards me?

“What’s wrong with you…?” Vizier narrowed his eyebrows at the irritated Nibui who was still clawing from behind.

“I don’t even know, it just feels weird”

“We’re going to find Kimoto now, so stop being retarded” Vizier commanded as he shook his head with disappointment.
Nibui sharpened his eyes and glared at his elder before kissing his teeth.

“Idiot…” he mumbled quietly.

Vizier was far from a positive mood.

“Say that one more time and I’m gonna’ slap –“ he was interrupted by the pursuit squad leader, Rozu.

“Alright folks, we’ve arrived.”
“Welcome to the village of Mamonaku.” Her adventurous voice eliminated any negativity, or concentration for that matter, and had everyone shifting their heads as they began exploring the abandoned settlement.

The long horizon and stretched distance was filled with the same architecture – short buildings made of sandstone. Torn and ragged pieces of cloth were dust-infested and slapped against the edges of households, others could be found on rooftops and some were strewn across the desert sands.

One thing that stood out was a larger structure at the centre of the ruins; a Chinese themed design, a shaolin temple.

“There is no sign of life here” a group of shinobi from the pursuit squad reported in after the hounds had searched the east bound.

“I suppose the only reasonable answer would be that Kimoto is held hostage in the temple” Vizier exclaimed as he withdrew a kunai from his tool pack.

“It’s best that I keep this clean” Dara swung his suit off and carelessly tossed it aside upon a pile of bones; they had been stored over the years and had begun to form pyramid-like shapes in the temple, around the large, golden Buddha statue.

Everything on the inside was dead and idle.
The flickering of candle flame faintly illuminated Dara; every muscle on his torso glistened with pride as he tensed, followed by sudden relaxation as he exhaled through his nose.
“I can feel his energy, his presence, and the urge for revenge”
“It is a shame that such motives are emotionally driven”

Dara crafted a taunting smirk to the thought of his unwelcomed guests, and proceeded to watch as the temple gates got blown off – splinters and planks of wood soared through the room before colliding with the ground.
The entrance was blocked off by a crowd of eight shinobi. Six from the pursuit squad with Nibui and Vizier beside them.

Shock engulfed the visitors as Nibui collapsed to the ground in agony.

“Nibui!” a squeal of unison broke out to the sight of the scrabbling boy.

The anguishing screams grew distorted as he clawed at the ground beneath him in an attempt to ascend to knee level.

Vizier reached for Nibui’s back, only to be warded off by intense heat.

“Argh!” he cried out

The centre of his posterior began tarnishing, slowly tearing away fibres from his black shirt.

Nibui sprawled out on the floor one final time as the digits “0005” burned through to the surface, his shirt now had a gaping hole from behind, where it made way for his marking.

“What the… fuck?” Vizier was gone for words to the peculiar sight, the crew portrayed faces of confusion alike.

General Discussion / Chapter 11 - Behind The Curtains
« on: June 11, 2017, 00:27:49 »
Day after day go by the small village of Mamonaku, situated in the North East regions of Hokorigakure. The village is surrounded by a great, silent desert that spans for fifteen miles in every direction.

The heart and pride of Mamonaku lay in the Buddhist Shaolin Temple which every child was expected to train in, this included young Dara.

Dara was abandoned at birth by his mother in a nearby forest. His newborn cries and squeals beaconed through the evening trees like a siren; drawing attention to the passer-by monks who sheltered his infantile existence.
The temple Zhu (master) was infertile at the time and was desperate for a child. Nobody in the village gave up their children to the hands of a stranger, and this led to Dara’s immediate adoption after his rejection from every family.

”I shall call him Dara”

The Zhu glared down from his throne at the helpless and vulnerable child scrabbling through the straw nest at his feet.

”And he shall become my student”

His tiny body was elevated above the master on display to everyone in the village. The courtyard quickly grew replete with applause and congratulation for his achievement – children, adults and elderly cheered on and celebrated for the potential successor of the Zhu, however… happiness and glory were not the only things to cross the soul of the Zhu nor of his son; the world was vast and heinous observers pried through the shadows. The eyes of corruption and sin only grew sharper with every year that passed.

Zhu Tailon was a man of fifty or so, a well-disciplined Shaolin warrior who prioritized the wellbeing of his village and temple over personal queries. He was the last of the Long clan – a noble family of Shaolin warriors and spiritualists, creators of the idea and fundamental basics of ‘hybrid cross battle’ – a style of combat fusing martial arts with ninjutsu. They believed that one would be twice the threat and efficient in combat when they applied martial techniques to offense, alongside ninja art and the use of chakra. For this is the reason harsh regulation and spiritual training has become a common practice within the Mamonaku youth.

Dara was naturally bound to the elegant nature of the deep, red inferno which resembled fire – flame, combustion; the satisfaction and burning passion of ignition - watching flesh roast at will. However, like most children of the village, Dara underwent challenging physical training in the martial art of Shaolin Kung Fu for most of his teenage period, postponing and brushing any chakra related training under the rug.

Every student was expected to wake up with the chickens – 05:30 on the spot, where they would consume a light snack in preparation for the ten mile run through the desert; sunrise was their deadline and those who failed to keep up were looked down upon with disgust as weak links in the system.

To everyone’s surprise, Dara excelled in most of the courses; he set the expectations and standards high for every student in the village to aspire and follow in his footsteps as he quickly became a prominent figure within the community. His progress was reflected on his body every time the upper section of his robes were off – he was not shredded and decorated with muscles, but finely bloated in all areas; he was a juggernaut - the living image of a dedicated warrior in the eyes of Tailon.

The lack of kunoichi within the village made it hard for Dara to find a female partner, however the odds completely turned one day during a communal gathering within the temple, an event that occurred twice a year to bring forth every student and master for further, friendlier bonding.

Erisa, a young trainee had finally built up the courage to approach Dara after sixteen years of blushing and faint romantic hints. She was slightly above average height for a female – around five feet and eight inches – her wood-brown hair was almost always tied in a pony-tail, clearly exposing her smallish round and pale face which stood out. Her eyes; deep, brown and full of hope constantly glanced towards the top student within the temple for most of the time – she was latched onto him.

Erisa was not the best kunoichi in the female group, but Dara looked beyond her physical attributes and capabilities as they were both madly in love, and saw each other as pieces part of a large love puzzle. They were inseparable and even stated their marriage vows for years in advance.

However, their relationship met a tragic ending when Erisa was murdered on the streets of Hokorigakure by local thugs, potentially affiliated with Blackbox and Tatsujin 8. Dara succumbed into darkness to these news, his life was overshadowed with depression and suicidal thoughts – he was pained and mentally corrupt.

On the same evening he was informed, Dara’s knees drew contact with the wooden planks in his dormitory; a glass shard was clenched in his right fist as his mind drowned in countless memories and thoughts of his two-year relationship. Tears crawled out in abundance, sliding from face to neck and the ground, like a pair of ski going down a mountain.

His arms thrust inwards with the shard in hand, only for it to break and slide across his skin. Several more thrusts left Dara in disappointment, shock and fear as he could not pierce his body. He was jaw dropped with wide eyes as horror flushed through him.

“Why the fuck does it not go through?”…

This was the evening Dara realized physical means could not harm him to the point of death. No matter how close he was to fatal injuries, nothing could finish him off.

The compulsory Shaolin lifestyle comes to an end twenty years into the life of a student, after accumulating enough experience and mastering the basic art, students were encouraged to begin developing their chakra nature in order to bring to life the concept of ‘hybrid cross battle’.

Dara did not have a wide arsenal of fire techniques, however he spent years mastering the ones he could control, and even crafted his own arts.

“Infernal embodiment jutsu!” he yelled, waving his arms in a circle from the centre of his head to the centre of his torso. A red flare engulfed Dara's body, with large fiery arms breaking through the flames. He could control every moment of the arms at will. He became a killing machine. He was ready.

P.S I apologize for going on hiatus for a while, and I understand if you believe this chapter is unsatisfactory. I promise future ones will return to original standard :)

General Discussion / Chapter 10 - The Zone
« on: May 09, 2017, 22:22:20 »
Strong, intrusive winds blew south; flinging around strands of the Kage’s oily, black hair as the situation tightened.
Hayame’s brown eyes stared down the intruder, they were deep and dense like an endless well.

“Hayame!” Hyoban’s hissing grew louder; more extensive… it became distorted and evolved into a disfigured cry for challenge as his eyes struck wide, much like the grin that exposed two noticeably large canines on the top set of his teeth.

Kazuki leaned in with his fist, only to be met halfway by the same shield again.
“We have to get him out of there!” he turned to the elder.

“Kazuki… there is nothing we can do whilst he has trapped himself in there, and is in the zone” his vision remained locked on the invader.

“What are you talking about?”

“…The ‘Zone’ is a state in which one can enter in order to utilize their body to its maximum potential, and this is unlocked when their mental prowess exceeds ninety percent”

“Mental strength is accumulated when emotional activity begins to kick off, progressively building up within the individual” The Kage continues to explain, his monotone speech solidifying into Kazuki’s mind.

“Many including yourself are no match for Hyoban in his standard form, let alone when he’s in the zone - it is accountable for his immeasurable speed and acrobatics, even masters of sensory techniques like Konohuro miserably fail to capture him.”

“Hayame!” The desperate individual could no longer resist himself from engaging and propelled his athletic stature into the air, executing a front-flip with a rod wrapped by a palm on each hand.

The Kage remained harmonious and lifted his right arm in defence as the metal poles struck his shield of sand; the impact forced a robust shockwave outwards that sent Kazuki into the distance.

Portions of sand ripped across the battlefield as the influence of steel bars continued pressuring the defences, they grew fiercer with each individual hit, forcing Hayame to make steps backwards in safety.

A tenacious expression was imprinted on the Kage’s face as he persisted with keeping the shield up.
This isn’t good --- I did not foresee the arrival of someone---something like Hyoban --- I’m forced to do this Hayame lowered his defences and thrust himself into a backflip, hands clenched mid-air.

Silence occupied the tense region as Hayame softened the landing by clawing at the ground; his hat took off into the empty sky as his hair collapsed into position – it had morphed into a snow-white mane.

Sage mode

“Ahh! It appears we’re finally getting serious, eh? – Didn’t think you’d go this far” Hyoban mocked from afar.

Hayame clenched his hands once more as a metal chain was exported from his back and ripped through the air directly at the hands of the intruder.

A loud ‘cling’ rang as the pole in Hyoban’s left hand was shattered in two pieces and aimlessly flung away.

“Alright, alright” The boy shook his left hand in pain and tugged on his cloak as the chain recalled back to its owner.
His toned build was exposed to the sun’s tarnishing beams – the figures 0021 were projected on his torso, drawing from ribs to abdomen.

Just as I remember him Hayame sharpened his eyes at the target.

Light clouds of dust rippled across the ground as Hyoban enrolled a light jog in an oval formation towards the Kage, his speed increased with every other step.

Multiple chains began escaping Hayame’s back in an attempt to take out the incoming rival, they fired in unison, exerting the host forward due to its sheer power.

Footsteps quickly evolved to nothing but remaining dust particles on the field - what were once light taps on soil transformed to silence and fear.

The offense proved ineffective as the immeasurable speed could not be tamed by the chains, leaving their steel faces deep into the dry land.

Hayame’s heart paused in terror; his eyes widened and met the emerald gaze of horror a few centimetres away.
There was only enough time for a single drop of sweat to kiss the ground before reality became a distant memory.

“W—Where am I?”

The Kage formlessly tumbled through a pool of darkness, it was cold, silent and infinitely empty in all directions.

General Discussion / Chapter 9 - Zap!
« on: May 02, 2017, 00:37:20 »
The plaza was awake and roaring with activity; much like the entire country following recent events, as Konohuro and Kazuki agitatedly ambled through the Hokorigakure marketplace. Vendors left, right and centre threw catchy phrases around in an attempt to draw attention to their fruits and vegetables, some of which were rotten.

“Hurry up, we need to get home before the sun takes a toll on us” Konohuro gripped tighter on the bags that occupied his fists.

“You know my short legs can’t keep up with yours… you titan!” Kazuki yelled after tripping up in the scorching-hot sand, his thumping, red face dripped with sweat as he looked up at the tall figure walking away further into the distance.

The younger quickly rose from the ground and hastily accelerated towards his senior, almost losing balance as his sandal got stuck in a squishy, soft and worm-infested pumpkin a few steps into his small run.

“You know what? Fuck it!” His young and mild voice yelled out as he grabbed his shoe, throwing it aimlessly behind him - only to be struck by the scream of a lady.

“My baby!!”

Kill me already...

Konohuro was already a hundred or so meters away from his partner, but the thought of their separation didn’t bother him in the slightest.

He slid the bag further up his left arm, and protruded his hand towards the leather bag on the other side. His fingers curled around the neck of a cold, glass bottle of Sake and dragged it out, releasing the cork just as quickly.

“Hopefully this will soothe the pain of having to carry this idiot around with me” his deep voice groaned with irritation as he began downing the bottle.

“What the---?!” his body shifted diagonally, dropping the bottle to the ground; its contents spilled across the dunes soon to be soaked up. A short, cloaked character had just bumped into him and continued walking off without a word.

Konohuro instantly sensed his presence and his temper skyrocketed, filling him with arrogance and fury just the same.
“Oh, that does it, kid!”

His bags flew to the ground as he began darting across the sandy path towards the strolling target.
He swung for the tool-kit attached to his belt, ready to bring out a weapon.

Do it… I dare you!
An unfamiliar voice broke through his mind – it hissed at him with evil and fear.

Konohuro was stiff in place, paralyzed, with his eye wide open in shock.

The stranger twisted his head, revealing a nasty smirk and cold, emerald irises.
The sun reflected dark skin on his hands, darker than the standard citizen - He was of African origin.

Konohuro quickly snapped out of the hypnosis and launched a pair of shuriken towards the boy, but was soon put under pressure as his offense was avoided by a backflip in his direction.

His agility is impressive

It was a game of cat and mouse as the figure began pouncing back and forth from tree to tree, dodging every single attack with ease and finesse.

“C’mon, surely you’ve got more than just that!” his low, hissy voice taunted the aggravated giant.

Konohuro closed his eye, disconnecting any visual senses. His hearing advanced, detecting every single movement within a 50 meter radius; the grinding of sand, individual conversations of others, and most importantly, he detected where the attacker was.

His hands adjusted into the Bird symbol and he focused chakra into his fists, ready to engage.
His eye fluttered open in an instant as he began waving his arms around in a circle like helicopter propellers.

Soon, the air molecules surrounding him twisted into small, sharp needles and pitched into every direction, hoping to catch something on their way.

What the fuck? This technique is designed to capture anything, even the fastest of targets

Konohuro had promptly realized that his ability had failed, and this threw him in an awkward position. He felt cornered, weak and powerless, now that one of his strongest skills had proven useless against an unknown presence.
His eye scampered around him with panic as light steps patterned the ground nearby.

“Peekaboo!” the voice surfaced once again, this time it split the air behind him.
The boy was upside down with an open mouth – legs struck straight and his cloak waved into the wind.

How did I not sense this?!

He reached inside and exported two long, black rods with round edges, one in each hand, before launching them directly at the alarmed man.

“Shit!” Konohuro cried out as the bars ripped through the flesh of his hands, nailing him in place against the dry land.

The predator spun into the air once more, landing each foot on a bar directly above his victim, and nimbly threw around hand seals of the lightning nature.

“Aaaand now, for my final act!” he announced with pride and clenched the top of the bars – his grin was void of remorse. High voltage swarmed through the metal poles and into the crippled prey, causing his entire body to shake and slowly burn.

“Aaaaargh” Konohuro’s agonizing cries began to draw faint as he was truly helpless this time.

“What’s happening?!” Kazuki yelled out after finally catching up to his subordinate, terror was clearly portrayed on his face.
He threw a kunai knife with two shuriken close on its trail, only to be deflected by an invisible shield around the scene.

Every citizen nearby had already evacuated the area that was quickly morphing into a murder scene. Hope began depleting.

“Out of all the nations, you choose to terrorise the people of Hokorigakure… Hyōban” the deep, dry projection of Hayame’s voice came to existence.

General Discussion / Hidden Dust Chronicles - Databook
« on: April 27, 2017, 21:32:49 »
Props to @America  for the concept, I stole it from him.
Artwork: @Rapho

This thread contains the significant characters from my chapters. This should fill in any gaps of information which you would not have found in the story.

Entry 01

Name: Darā Naku
Age: 26
Status: Immortal
Chakra Nature(s): Fire
Fighting style: Melee, Swordsmanship
Code: 0035
Present/Mentioned in chapters: 5-12
Residence: Shaolin Temple, Hidden Dust Village (North-East)

Personality: Darā is a well disciplined, young man. He is careless and arrogant most of the time, as well as very sensitive and diligent in his own arts. Darā talks in a sarcastic tone and likes to toy around with his victims before taking decisive actions.

History: Here

Great Speed
Great Strength

Poor Stamina

Entry 02

Name: Hyoban
Age: 17
Status: Alive
Chakra Nature(s): Lightning
Fighting style: Melee, Ranged Jutsu Attacks
Code: 0021
Present/Mentioned in chapters: 10-15
Residence: Currently in Hidden Dust, originally from Hidden Thunder

Personality: Hyoban is an arrogant and vain shinobi. He naturally underestimates his opponents, however will back away from a battle he feels would threaten his life. Hyoban is fairly rational when it comes to battle, as he would find the best possible method to deal with things, avoiding excess hassle that would waste time.

History: (Soon)

Great Speed
Great Agility
Ability to enter the zone instantaneously

Average strength in standard form

Entry 03
Name: Vizier
Age: ~40
Status: Alive
Chakra Nature(s): Wind, Earth
Fighting style: Melee, Swordsmanship
Code: N/A
Present/Mentioned in chapters: 2-Present
Residence: Hidden Dust Village

Personality: Vizier is by far the wisest shinobi Nibui has come across so far; he has lived the longest out of every member in Blackbox. Vizier is a helpful and straightforward ninja with great leadership qualities. He open for humorous conversations but will quickly fix up when the time for serious business calls. He is the father figure to Nibui and therefore disciplines him from time to time.

History: Soon

Powerful Jutsu
Good Stamina

Low Speed

General Discussion / Chapter 8 - Dark History
« on: April 26, 2017, 23:38:30 »
The tension between the Kage and his right-hand man was unsteady. Vizier decided to take immediate measures to retrieve Kimoto.

“Hayame, we must return the boy back to safety in the Hidden Dust!” He pleaded with despair.

The Kage exhaled and dragged his head backwards, his eyes closed with relaxation.
“Do we really need to shelter thugs in our village?” he questioned apathetically, almost cold-heartedly.

Vizier burst out with anger and slammed his right palm against the wooden desk; the impact managed to slightly shake one the Kage’s expensive, glass bongs.

“He is young and full of potential!”
“I can’t believe you’re turning your back to this kid when there are clearly bigger issues and threats to be worrying about!” his breathing transformed into dynamic sequences of gasping.

The blunt had reached the end of its life as Hayame shuffled it across the surface of a steel ashtray which rested nearby.
“Fine, fine – I’ll dispatch a pursuit squad if that hooligan means this much to you” Hayame asserted with a hint of irritation in his voice.

Dara was the only inhabitant of his lair, he refused to make connections or experience change. Not after his great loss ten years ago.

He would often unveil the grey cloak which shielded the most valuable thing to him, the memories he cherished the most. Those memories brought him back to when he was a different man, a man with happiness.

His pale hand swooped down and gently stroked the face of a young girl behind a picture frame. It rested on a wooden crate with a single dead rose in a slim vase to the left; its fallen petals were crisp and lifeless.

What’s wrong? his young, soft voice questioned with concern.

Nothing, everything’s fine a tender and silvery tone replied. It belonged to a girl just a little bit shorter than him. Her long, brown hair was waved by the gentle breeze, and her bright smile glowed with reassurance.
A tear slowly curled down Dara’s cheeks as more scenarios flickered through his mind.

I don't like you, I love you
I won't date you, I'll marry you
I wouldn't take pain for you, I would give up my life for yours
You're not the reason I'm happy, you're the reason I still breathe
her eyes met his, accompanied by a faint smile.

Dara’s grip around the frame tightened as he squinted in sorrow. Thoughts of the past slowly infested his mind, provoking sudden grief and anger.

Her delicate voice called out one last time.
I just wanted to talk with you for a little longer…

The ground shook on impact as the suited man collapsed to his knees. Tears continued to drop in aimless torrents around him.

Dara twisted to the right and swiftly snatched a katana planted on a stand beside the crate.

His arms violently swung to and fro, repeatedly penetrating his torso and shredding vital organs, however, every jab healed immediately, leaving behind nothing but an unpleasant, white scar.

“Why, why, why?!”

The screams grew progressively louder with aggression, but quickly met their end when he dropped the tool and slumped his body forward, forehead flat on the ground. Tears dripped off his sullen face onto the glass shield covering the image.

“Erisa, why?” his cry became faint and bellowed through the dome.

Vizier and Nibui impatiently waited outside the Kage building and watched as the pursuit squad prepared their canine companions for the journey ahead.

“What’s all the clothing for?” Nibui questioned in the distance.

A young, ginger haired woman who was loading her bag turned her head towards him.
“It’s to protect them from the sand storms; they also have small, leather patches shielding their eyes for obvious reasons”

The confused expression on Nibui’s face quickly shifted to the one of an enlightened student.
“Ah-ha, that makes a lot of sense now!” he picked on his chin where a small beard had begun to sprout.

Vizier lowered and simultaneously shook his head with embarrassment.
“Retarded” he muttered under his breath as the girl chuckled with a bright smile.

It didn’t take long before she stood up and exhaled, hands steady on her hips
“Alright, we’re set to go, now all I need is a piece of clothing that has Kimoto’s scent for the dogs”

Vizier reached in his pockets and withdrew a tattered, black vest before firing it towards the lady.
“That’s all we have of him, so be careful” he warned with concern.

She bent down, lowering the vest to the nose of each hound, making sure they took a firm sniff.
One by one, without warning they all took off into the distance, leaving behind nothing but a large cloud of dust.

“Well, looks like we’re off too!” she smiled back at them.

Personal note: I'm personally not happy with the production of this chapter. It was quite difficult for me to write to my full potential under certain circumstances. I understand if you think this chapter is shit.


General Discussion / Chapter 7 - Intruder
« on: April 23, 2017, 16:57:26 »
Blood broke through Kimoto’s mouth once more as he tried rolling to one side.

The presence slowly jaunted towards him, stepping through the countless splints of wood.

“Well, boy, it appears your time has come… it was a pleasure meeting you.”

The half-dead youth clambered slightly before halting, his lifeless arms bent once more bringing his hands into a Tiger seal position.

His body began to glow with a short green aura - a shell of sand slowly emerged from his face, and steadily progressed in a downwards motion.

The suited man hovered above Kimoto and stared down with a blank face, but lacked hesitation and averted his attention in the opposite direction, glaring directly into the eyes of Buddha.

“Lord, please forgive me for my sins.” He requested with the same soft, calm voice he initiated with.

Kimoto’s shell of armour had almost completely covered him, but was interrupted when a cold hand glided through the air and locked onto his head from the scalp.

The ground felt lightweight once more as the young, inert body found itself briskly yanked by the force of a single arm.

Kimoto dangled like a beaten ragdoll with its eyes closed for a few moments before being carelessly launched towards the large, metal structure.

His body brutally whacked the centre of the deity, blemishing it with erratic splatters of blood and slid down to ground level where its deformed and shapeless appearance was evident.

A small amount of transparent liquid formed within the creases of his metal eyes. It built up and slowly slithered down his face.

Once again, God witnessed Darā’s sins.

Vizier and Nibui broke through the sun’s beams and paced up the wooden staircase of the Kage building.

“Wait here” The right hand of the Kage commanded.

The wooden door had a tiny gap between itself and the hinges, anyone could spy on the interior.

Vizier slid his fingers against the wood and quickly shifted inside before sealing the door shut.

The Kage’s workplace resembled a jungle more than it did an office; fresh weed plants of all shapes and sizes decorated the internal quarters.

Papers were scattered randomly and documents were buried under bongs and lighters.

The visitor released a sigh in disappointment and shook his head.

He hasn’t changed at all since the last time I came here.

Vizier straightened his vision towards the open balcony where Hayame was lounged peering the orange country. He was attended by a blunt which rested between his lips at a slight angle as usual.

He was still several meters away before the Kage identified his presence.

“Vizier, what brings you here?” a cloud of smoke drifted from his mouth, accompanied by his deep, elegant voice.

The gentle breeze of Hokorigakure blew the strings on his straw hat, sweeping his long, black hair along with it.

“Impressive, you managed to pinpoint me from that distance blinded” Vizier complimented Hayame in an attempt to get on his good side.

“Do not underestimate your leader, Vizier…”

“Now tell me, why exactly are you and your subordinate here?”

Vizier was shocked by how advanced the mind of his Kage was.

He can sense Nibui too?!

He almost stuttered, but somehow managed to quickly blurt out his issue.

“We’re here to report a missing ninja”

“Kimoto was last seen incarcerated by our special ops squad, Agirama, however I have asked around and every law enforcement in the Hidden Dust claim that he was never imprisoned” Vizier proclaimed in distress.

“So this is about the boy, huh?” Hayame confirmed.

He swung and brought the blunt back between his lips before strolling towards his desk.

Hayame trailed open a drawer and pulled out a fat book which held prison records.

 “Every incarceration within the Hidden Dust is recorded into this book.”

“If he was captured, we will find him here.” Hayame explained without switching his attention from the document.
He flicked through the pages in silence.

“The last imprisonment was a couple months ago, and the prisoner is a twenty-eight year old merchant who goes by the name of Shougo Hajime.”

What the fuck? Vizier’s eyes bulged out in panic.

“Then what about the Hidden Dust squad that captured him?!”

Hayame closed the book and chucked it back into the drawer, then proceeded to lean against his desk with crossed arms.

“Vizier, hate to break it to you, but Kimoto was kidnapped by someone… or something outside of Hokorigakure using the Agirama uniform as disguise.” The Kage announced, darkening Vizier’s mind with grief and confusion.

General Discussion / Chapter 6 - Subject 0035
« on: April 19, 2017, 22:53:51 »
Caged in by steel walls that appeared to lack sunlight, Kimoto rested like a ragdoll, nailed to a wooden pole by his hands in the center of the room.

Five hundred… and twelve

His torso had pieces of flesh torn out and blood was strewn beneath him in aimless splatters.

A shockwave thrust his body backwards as a mace-like weapon drew contact once more.

Blood poured out from his mouth and drooled down his chest as he grunted.

Five hundred… and thirteen

His head was covered by a straw sack, and the only clothing he wore was the underwear beneath his blood stained trousers.

A bucket of cold water sat next to the pole, waiting to be used.

 “Hold it” a flat, soft voice commanded from the distance.

The crackling of wood and scraping of metal filled the empty room as the mace was dropped without a second thought.

Footsteps crept towards Kimoto in an unsettling motion as blood continued to drip. They were not ordinary footsteps – they were the footsteps of an intruder on broad heels.

The cover was swiftly plucked off, unveiling Kimoto’s lifeless, slouched head.

His energy had depleted to the point where keeping himself steady and upright was a major struggle – he was drained.
“Your endurance is impressive.” the soothing voice glided through Kimoto’s mind as a cold, smooth hand gripped onto his jaw, slowly lifting his face in vision of his own.

The figure that stood before Kimoto manifested the appearance of a tall and elegant man in his mid-twenties, dressed in a red velvet suit and a black shirt with a black tie wrapped around the collar.

He bent down, almost crouching, his hand still firm on Kimoto’s face.

A few rapid chuckles escaped through his nose as he cocked his head to the right, bringing himself a few inches closer to the pinned target.

His sharp cheekbones emphasized the long, pasty face that was home to a sinister and amused smirk that had developed over time.

“I have an offer for you.”

Kimoto ignored him as his weary eyes slowly shifted around in order to examine the environment he was trapped in.

A statue of Buddha…

The large, golden figure of the religious deity ranked high above everything else a few meters away, accompanied by countless broken skulls and bones, on and around it.

“What the fuck…?” Kimoto muttered under his breath in confusion and disgust.

“Aah! I see you’ve noticed my statue!” he lit up with excitement.

Kimoto continued his visual patrol for a few more seconds.

The only source of light were the large, half melted candles that had been strategically set out around the dome.

In the far end where the room was darkest, a box with a wooden stand rested and was surrounded by more candles, this time they were red and untouched. The whole structure had a grey cloak covering it.

A memorial, huh? Kimoto questioned himself.

 “What do you think of my aesthetics?” He brought Kimoto back into focus, finally releasing his grip.

Kimoto’s head slumped down once again, the last few drops of blood on his chest forcedly hitting the ground.
“The pain…” he whispered with closed eyes.

He was becoming numb to the torture due to the physical and mental repetition, his mind growing more and more blank.

The suited man stood up and wiped his hand with a handkerchief.

He paused and stared down at the helpless victim.

“Pain? – You don’t understand pain well enough to mention it so vainly”

“Your wounds will heal with time, my mental scars have been permanently engraved to my soul” He assured the prisoner.

Kimoto had already given up on escape and life, and took careless steps.

“What do you know about pain?” He resumed the dialogue.

The man paused in disbelief and adjusted his body language directly towards the younger.


“When the person who was your paradise lived happily with you knowing what you were beneath the mask disappears forever” his soft voice growing louder

“When the only person to see beyond your appearance has their soul taken by gang scum like yourself!” he gripped Kimoto’s entire face with his left hand before delivering a critical blow to the chest with his right fist.

The boy managed to share a painful grunt before the hit penetrated through the wooden pole, sending him flying backwards onto the ground with dozens of wooden pieces scattered next to him.

“And all those countless times I’ve tried leaving this Earth forcefully to follow her into the afterlife?!”

He tugged onto his shirt, ripping it off with one swing and revealing deep scars from neck to abdomen. They looked perfect in size for Katana blades. The figures '0035' were marked on his chest.

“But I cannot die!”


Drawings / Soul Reaper Sword concept
« on: April 13, 2017, 02:21:38 »
I took a few hours of my miserable life to draw up and finalize my own 'Soul Reaper' sword inspired by Daida Hibana's sword from Deadman Wonderland. References included.

The blue areas extend and get thinner, allowing the blade to become flexible and used in the style of a whip in combat.

I would appreciate honest feedback.

General Discussion / Chapter 5 - Party Time
« on: March 21, 2017, 19:53:03 »
It had almost been three weeks since Vizier and Nibui ventured out of town with no form of contact with the rest of Blackbox; the remaining few were beginning to worry and question their position within the organisation. The escapees remained quiet and lurked around Hokorigakure causing little trouble – they had to let the government awareness levels die down, and without the leading forces of Blackbox; they were running low on money and drugs.
However, for them the celebrations did not end here.

The new base was slightly more secluded than the previous one which is now under investigation, and this gave them a bit more freedom.

“Grab me another bottle of Sake” a raspy voice commanded from a leather sofa that curves around a medium-sized gambling table.
Blackbox had invited friends and prostitutes over at their trap house. The atmosphere was thick with smoke from burning joints and the scent of alcohol was heavy in the air.

An attractive blonde woman made her way across the wooden floorboards with the desired alcoholic drink in her hand.
“Deal me—“ he was quickly interrupted when a white glass bottle swooped before his eyes and crashed on the table.
A moment of silence dawned between them - the gambler took this time and adjusted the blunt to the corner of his lips. He turned to the prostitute and blew the cannabis smoke into her face.

“Fuck you, Konohuro!” she yelled out and took a step backwards; her face crunched up with disgust as her hands began to flap in her face.
His mouth widened with a deep chuckle; he was callous and took his membership with Blackbox for granted and as a permit to mess with people.

Konohuro was not native to the Hidden Dust, he was born and raised a warrior from the Hidden Volcano, and therefore never fully complied with Hokorigakure regulations – he would often get in trouble with locals, but always found a way out.

“Fam, Konohuro, relax—“ a young voice called out from the bar before the wooden entrance door burst open, silencing everyone in the room and attracting attention.

Nibui stepped through with Vizier tight on his trail.
Every face began to gleam with hope and excitement when they recognized their leader and realized he made it home safe… but something was off.
Kunoichi began to make their way towards them and men spoke up from behind.

“Look who finally decided to show up” Konohuro could be heard in the distance.
Nibui was the odd one out; he had a serious tone, barging through and pushing away prostitutes who began clinging and grasping onto him with drinks still in their hands.

He kissed his teeth in annoyance and raised his katana forth to clear the clustered lane.
“Move, man”

Konohuro stood up and leaned against the wall next to him, waiting for Nibui to walk through the middle.
“What’s going on, bruv?” he questioned in confusion.

“Move over” Nibui shook his blade towards the direction of the inner corner of the sofa, but he didn’t look up. Everything seemed a bit too much for him right now, especially after what he had been through.

Konohuro shifted through the leather, enough to provide space for both returned shinobi. He could sense that they weren’t feeling it tonight, and he could assume why that was the case.
He was a blind shinobi with long white hair. He lost his vision at a young age and is now geared up with a black ribbon around his head; his other senses excelled at their profession – he could almost perfectly visualize the exact location of objects through echo-location and thermal radiation.

Three of them were mutually sceptical about engaging a discussion.
Nibui’s tanned hand glided across the table and picked up a rolled blunt. He stared at it for a moment and turned to Konohuro.

“It’s Indica” he announced.

Nibui nodded with acceptance before placing it in his mouth and sparked the tip.

He inhaled deeply before releasing the residue through his nose.
“Where’s Kimoto?”

General Discussion / Chapter 4 - The Healer
« on: March 20, 2017, 19:15:00 »
“Shouldn’t be too long now”
“The healing is taking place slowly but surely” an unfamiliar voice broke out; it was soft, young and tender.
Vizier grunted in acknowledgement and relief.

A soft wind blew across the field and through the hill which Nibui was being operated on. The night-sky was fresh and rich with stars.
“What are the chances he’ll make it?” Vizier asked with concern.

He paused for a second and tilted his head slightly towards him.
“Given the circumstances that his chest was burned, damaging vital organs such as the heart and lungs… around thirty-three percent” the soft voice replied before readjusting his focus on the leader of Blackbox who happened to be half-dead.

Vizier was impressed by the skill displayed before him.
“You look young… and it amazes me how well you work… - I’ve seen shinobi who specialize in medical ninjutsu struggle with these sort of operations”

“I’m 19, sir, and I’m flattered by your appraisal”
The boy had messy brown hair and was covered in a black cloak of silk. The blue healing rays reflected into his black eyes.

The evening strolled along and a dozen winds went by before another word was spoken.
The glow in his hands ceased and the medic raised himself.
“That’s as much as I can do…; he has been bandaged up around the torso and I’ve regrown his organ tissue”
“Now only time can tell if the operation was successful”

Vizier raised his head, sorrow had overtaken him but he didn’t show it – he couldn’t, even in this situation.
“I understand… I uh… I appreciate everything you have done”

The youthful healer swung his leather bag full with equipment around his head and steadied it onto his body.
“Don’t worry about it, I help people around the Dust free-of-charge… even criminals”
Vizier couldn’t help but strike a faint smile.

The cloaked shinobi had already turned around in preparation to depart but stopped to the sound of Vizier’s aged voice once more.

“You’re a good man”

He paused and tilted his head for the second time.
“I’m Izumi” he informed the elder before resuming his walk down the hill into the darkness.

Vizier was downcast and in grief from the constant worry for Nibui.
“I tried”
“I tried to protect you”
He glanced over at the body once more before setting off into the fields in search of flowers and a plank of wood with enough space for carvings.

Vizier was constantly haunted by the success rate of the operation. “Thirty-three percent” was the only thing going through his mind, and it was on repeat.

It wasn’t long before he returned with a batch of flowers and a plank in the other hand.

Vizier was paralyzed on the spot and dropped everything he held to the sight of Nibui sitting in a cross-legged position, spinning a kunai on his finger.

“Bumbaclart… let’s head home” a grin took over Nibui’s face as his eyes sharpened.

Vizier clenched a fist and slowly shook his head against it in disbelief.
“Fucking idiot” he couldn’t help but let off a light chuckle out of relief.

General Discussion / Chapter 3 - A Small Dilemma
« on: March 20, 2017, 01:01:05 »
“Reports are coming in from my audio receiver… law enforcement is on its way” Vizier’s mature voice notified Nibui with a concerned look on his face.

He was the eldest member of the organisation – a wise man amongst many Dust shinobi, even Nibui soaked up a few lessons from him. His true age remains a mystery, however it is factual that he has roamed the deserts for more than three decades.

Nibui acknowledged the warning.
“We better get goi—“ He was interrupted by a large wave of fire projected by a member of Tatsujin 8, it was a direct hit that set him on his knees.

“Nibui!” Kimoto cried out from behind

“Blackbox, listen to me!”
“We have no time to waste! We don’t want the whole organisation killed or locked up! I’ll stay behind to aid Nibui… Now go!” Vizier’s orders were clear and fear began to fill his voice as the surrounding members took their departure from the scene.

“I’m staying too!” Kimoto broke out
“No you’re not!” Vizier’s objection struck him

Tatsujin 8 shinobi began closing in with kunai knives and hand seals.
Police can be seen darting across the building tops, they were nearing the crime scene.

“God damn it!” Vizier called out with his hands finally in motion.
The ground beneath them began to shake and a great earth dome took shape. It quickly became a two-versus-three excluding Nibui who was bleeding out from his chest.
The Tatsujin 8 members quickly adapted to this environment as one of them pounced forward with a kunai towards Vizier whilst the other two wove handseals around, ready to execute more flames.

“Shield me!” Vizier called out to Kimoto and was greeted by a nod.

The ground shook once more as an earth wall broke through, acting as a barrier in-front of the two shinobi. Their flames were reflected off the wall.
Vizier stood in-front of Nibui and acted as a physical meat-shield whilst quickly throwing around handseals faster than ever before.

An arm consisting of sand protruded from the top of the dome and grabbed the airborne Tatsujin shinobi, throwing him against his fellow members. The arm continued to grow out and formed a fist which began pounding the three shinobi harshly against the dome, crushing skulls and destroying organs. The victims could no longer be identified – they were disfigured and drowned in their own blood and shattered bones. A truly barbaric scene.

The earth dome crumbled as Vizier dragged Nibui onto his shoulders.
“We must go!” he left his final order and disappeared into the distance

Kimoto was fazed by what just happened and looked around in terror. The streets were closed off and he was now surrounded by law enforcement.

Shinobi from the special Dust services reached out to his radio speaker.
“We’ve got one… there is a lot of blood and the others must have escaped”
“Fuck!” Kimoto burst out after realizing he was cornered and attempted a run.
“You ain’t going nowhere!” the Dust police called out and threw a few knives at Kimoto’s feet, nailing him to the ground; breaking his heel to prevent escape.

They excelled at human anatomy and knew how to deal with situations at an extreme pace – Kimoto on the other hand was young and inexperienced.

The doors of the interrogation room burst open and Kimoto was thrown forth by the special ops. He could not stand and was filled with agony as he dropped to the ground like an animal about to meet its fate.

“Now you’re going to tell us everything about these gangs and criminal activities around the hidden Dust” the door was shut and locked up. The only ones inside were the interrogation officer and Kimoto, and he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon.

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