Post by Shio on Apr 16, 2012 11:37:27 GMT -5
Standing in his house's large garden on an early autumn morning, Shio was dressed in a strange garment. On his feet were bamboo slippers, the type that a few of the retired ninjas wore, but above that he appeared to be wearing a kimono. It was a deep black with the occasional ice blue highlight. His usual free-falling hair was tied back in a ponytail, giving him the appearance of a samurai. Which, he knew, was appropriate for this type of training.
Erected to his left was a cold, stone basin with what appeared to be waves carved all around the bowl. The basin was filled with water, deep and a cold, crisp blue yet as still as a mirror. Placing his hand on top of it, his hand seemed to straighten out as water was pulled out of the basin, forming a long line against Shio's hand, ending in a curved ball of water. On the other end, it straightened out and split off into three pieces. Two of them were much thinner than the main one, and curved around behind where they'd split off. The water continued to join, and eventually came to a sharp point, before going slightly darker blue than the pure water, as if suddenly solidified. It was clear that it was a sword.
He held it in his right hand, and swung it in a loop, causing a swish from the air as it passed through. As it swung in the morning air, it seemed to reflect, more like metal than the water it was made of. Strangely enough, it didn't feel clammy or cold. It felt....... warm, like putting your hand into a bath. Then, once he was sure that it was working properly, he slowly walked to the training course he'd devised with a little help from his dad.
Standing infront of the range, he held it in his hand, foot hovering above a stone platform that strangely jutted out from the rest of the lawn. He gulped, wondering whether or not this was going to go as well as he had originally hoped. Finally deciding that, yes, this was the way to go around it, he stomped his foot down, preparing for the attack. As the platform was pushed down by the weight of his foot, a whirring noise could be heard before, as if out of nowhere, shurikens were fired at him one after another, after another. They were designed to have come from all directions and were, obviously, doing their job.
Spinning his sword around, he knocked two of them out of the air, before spinning it the other way and stopping a knife that would have ended up in his back otherwise. With the round of attacks over, he ran forwards, diving into the darkness from which the original knife had come from. He heard an impact, and could feel his weapon pushing through the darkness and pulling it back, drenched in motor oil. Running around and completing the circle of take-downs, finishing the arena of attackers. One fell out of the shadow, and it was clear it was a meager launcher, something the most basic engineer could make with little more than a chain, gunpowder, a firing chamber and a loader system. Once again, he thanked any listening deities that his mother knew about engineering.
He bowed in the middle, as if saluting a dead opponent that didn't exist, and left the mess to be cleaned up later. Right now, he had a jutsu to finish. Going back the way he came, he reapproached the basin, holding his sword above it. All at once, as if a casing had opened, the water collapsed once more, refilling the basin. He sighed slightly, wondering why it was that he couldn't just use the water vapor always present in the air to use his jutsus. Why he had to use ponds and lakes, and containers full of water. Heck, the human body was almost 70% water, why was none of THAT usable? He decided, right then and there, to finally learn the secrets of his ancestors, of how to get true water from water vapor immediately.
Erected to his left was a cold, stone basin with what appeared to be waves carved all around the bowl. The basin was filled with water, deep and a cold, crisp blue yet as still as a mirror. Placing his hand on top of it, his hand seemed to straighten out as water was pulled out of the basin, forming a long line against Shio's hand, ending in a curved ball of water. On the other end, it straightened out and split off into three pieces. Two of them were much thinner than the main one, and curved around behind where they'd split off. The water continued to join, and eventually came to a sharp point, before going slightly darker blue than the pure water, as if suddenly solidified. It was clear that it was a sword.
He held it in his right hand, and swung it in a loop, causing a swish from the air as it passed through. As it swung in the morning air, it seemed to reflect, more like metal than the water it was made of. Strangely enough, it didn't feel clammy or cold. It felt....... warm, like putting your hand into a bath. Then, once he was sure that it was working properly, he slowly walked to the training course he'd devised with a little help from his dad.
Standing infront of the range, he held it in his hand, foot hovering above a stone platform that strangely jutted out from the rest of the lawn. He gulped, wondering whether or not this was going to go as well as he had originally hoped. Finally deciding that, yes, this was the way to go around it, he stomped his foot down, preparing for the attack. As the platform was pushed down by the weight of his foot, a whirring noise could be heard before, as if out of nowhere, shurikens were fired at him one after another, after another. They were designed to have come from all directions and were, obviously, doing their job.
Spinning his sword around, he knocked two of them out of the air, before spinning it the other way and stopping a knife that would have ended up in his back otherwise. With the round of attacks over, he ran forwards, diving into the darkness from which the original knife had come from. He heard an impact, and could feel his weapon pushing through the darkness and pulling it back, drenched in motor oil. Running around and completing the circle of take-downs, finishing the arena of attackers. One fell out of the shadow, and it was clear it was a meager launcher, something the most basic engineer could make with little more than a chain, gunpowder, a firing chamber and a loader system. Once again, he thanked any listening deities that his mother knew about engineering.
He bowed in the middle, as if saluting a dead opponent that didn't exist, and left the mess to be cleaned up later. Right now, he had a jutsu to finish. Going back the way he came, he reapproached the basin, holding his sword above it. All at once, as if a casing had opened, the water collapsed once more, refilling the basin. He sighed slightly, wondering why it was that he couldn't just use the water vapor always present in the air to use his jutsus. Why he had to use ponds and lakes, and containers full of water. Heck, the human body was almost 70% water, why was none of THAT usable? He decided, right then and there, to finally learn the secrets of his ancestors, of how to get true water from water vapor immediately.
