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 Memories (Solo Training)

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Kenji

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PostSubject: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime18th February 2020, 5:12 pm

Techs Being Trained:

Indra wandered through the Kohaigakure branch of the Erlang compound. His people were spread throughout the Republic of Five, something his parents and trainers had reminded him of constantly. The old folks believed having an Erlang sect in every village showed the strength and hard work of the clan, a group of people who were at one time made up of mostly bandits and Missing-Nin out in the wastes of the Origin Continent. Instead, while Indra was enrolled in the Academy, he had found it strange to know that there were dozens upon dozens, if not hundreds of Academy age Erlangs all across the Republic just like him, sitting in the same classes he was sitting in, yet he had never met a single one of them. These people were considered cousins, yet Indra would probably never know their names. Meanwhile, other kids would eat and train with their cousins, fellow clan members that they had been raised with. It wasn't to say Indra hadn't also been raised among his people, there were other Erlangs sitting in that very room with him, but these other clan kids knew all of their people. He knew only a small group.

From an emotional perspective, it didn't bother him, but his ever present analytical mind questioned it. Spreading out didn't show strength or hard work, if anything it weakened the Erlangs. How could you share a name, but nothing else? Branches of Erlangs all had different cultures, beliefs, day to day activities. Some were intermarrying, as his mother had and thinning the bloodline even more. Indra was living proof of that. His mother a full blood Erlang, and his father a member of the Taki clan. As he passed through the training grounds, Indra stopped his inner monologue and realized he was on a rant now. It would do him no good to continue this way of thinking and before he knew it the afternoon would be over, wasted in its entirety like the morning had been.

The torrential downpour that had plagued the morning was now sputtering a lazy drizzle. The training grounds were nothing more than a mud pit filled with filthy equipment and Indra regarded the area with a general annoyance. I suppose I shouldn't have expected much else. He frowned, moving through the muck and the mire towards a stump in the shadow of a larger, still living tree. He took a seat, shuttering as the cold wet soaked through his pants and into his bones. Training today would barely be worth his time, not with the conditions so utterly dismal. At best, he'd get frustrated and give up within the hour, with nothing to show for his labors. At worst, he'd sprain an ankle in the slick mud. Today was truly a waste, but as he sat on that stump and gazed across the training equipment, Indra found his mind wandering yet again. This train had no stops at culture or clan strength, but dove directly into Indra's memories, of a time long ago, when he had first came to these grounds...

------- Flash Back - Pre-Academy Days  --------

Again! His mother barked as Indra sucked air into his lungs, he was bent over at his waist, hands resting on his knees.
How do you ever expect to attain greatness if you can't even outrun a toddler? His mother's harsh words chewed into him, but the ringing in his ears blocked a decent portion of it out.
I...never said...I hoped to achieve...greatness. He said between shaking breaths before spitting and standing upright.
Tch, gifted with not one, but two of the eyes of the Erlang. Innate healing abilities thanks to your father's genes. You've been handed a genetic pool of near perfection and you plan to what...become a blacksmith and squander such potential? His mother demanded, walking over to him now. He stared her down, fully aware of what was coming next, but he refused to flinch.
His face snapped to the right as her hand barreled through his left cheek. He did not move, he did not speak, he did not so much as whisper, but she did.
No son of mine will tarnish the good name of the Erlang, lest he wish to renounce his place as my son. Now...again. She said, nearly whispering the words in his ear.
Yes...mother. Indra replied before turning and taking off along the running path once more. His face stung, but it was nothing compared to the tear that ran down the side of his swollen face.

As he ran, his mother counted the seconds it took him to complete his laps. He knew deep down that no matter what time he managed to squeak out, no matter how hard he pushed himself it'd never be enough for her. The best he could have hoped to manage was a simple, silent nod. That would be all the praise he'd receive if he actually impressed her, though he doubt he'd see even that today.
Hmm, better that time, but still plenty of room for improvement.
Yes, mother. Indra said, his cheek still warm from her touch.
We shall move onto your ninjutsu training next then, I suppose. Honestly, nine years old and you haven't even activated the Raidengan yet. You're lucky the Mishura are gifted their eyes so early or you wouldn't even be able to prove you were an Erlang. Unlike those Mishura, we of the Denkou branch earn our eyes and I won't have you resting on your laurels just because you didn't have to work for that Kyougan.
Indra said nothing but followed his mother to the center of the training grounds. When she got like this, talking about her proud Denkou heritage, there was nothing he could say that would make it any better. He had learned long ago to simply nod and say nothing at all.

Taking a Denki kunai from her pocket, Indra's mother handed it to him.
If you wish to earn the right to that Raidengan inside of you, you must at least be able to master the basics of your people. This is a denki weapon, I've shown it to you before, but this will be the first time you actually use one properly. You need to become familiar with cycling lightning chakra through it as most of your techniques will rely on this ability in the future.
Indra seized the kunai in his hand, its weight was impressive, but far lighter than the regular knives he had been training with with his father. The tirade that had brought down upon both of them when his mother realized her son was being trained with non-denki weapons was one for the ages to be sure.
Begin by spinning the kunai in your hand, even you should be capable of that.
Indra complied and began twirling the knife, slowly at first to make sure he had the rhythm down, and then faster to a point he knew his mother wouldn't complain or berate him.
Good, she said approvingly for the first time all day, now, without stopping, concentrate chakra into the knife.
Indra did as he was told and soon the knife let out a faint crackling soon. It began to glow a pale blue as his chakra harmonized with the specialized metal of the kunai.
My, my, there's hope for you yet. Perhaps you're ready for something a little more difficult then. She said, reaching behind her. At this point she was on Indra's left side and he could only barely make out her faint movements with his peripherals as he concentrated on the charged kunai, but he knew that tone of voice enough to expect what was about to happen next.

Dodge! His mother declared as the sharp wood of the training sword sliced through the air. It struck more wood, clapping against the bark of a fallen log where Indra's abdomen had been moments before. A few feet away, Indra stood breathing heavily, the hand seals for the body replacement technique still in-front of him. His mother turned to find him and spit at the ground, A Denkou does not lower himself to the standards of regular shinobi. You must fully master lightning release or you'll be dead before you attain even your second stage. His mother blurred out of view, using speeds she knew he couldn't read yet. On instinct, Indra activated the technique again, this time the training sword collided with a fist sized rock, sending it flying into the trees. Birds scattered into the air as Indra hid behind one of the trunks, out of view.

Coward! He heard as her boot shoved him to the ground, his face rubbing angrily against the gnarled roots of the tree. He began to raise himself to his elbows and knees before the sharp crack of the training sword across his back pushed the air from his lungs and he fell flat once more. He could hear the parting of the air as she brought the sword back up, readying another strike. Indra shut his eyes, willed her to disappear and made the hand sign once again. This time, when he appeared just two feet behind his mother, he smiled through tired breaths to see a jolt of electricity travel up her arm. He was denied the pleasure of seeing her face in mild discomfort, but imagining it would be enough to lull his broken body to sleep tonight.
Ten minute break, I don't need you passing out on me. We'll move onto your kenjutsu training next. His mother said before stalking off to the water bottles they had left by the edge of the training grounds. Indra followed without a word.

A little while later, they were back at it again and Indra was convinced he was running on nothing but adrenaline and sheer willpower at this point.
You were blessed child, and you should be grateful for the gifts bestowed upon you. His mother continued her lecture, the training sword from earlier in her hands. This time, Indra had been given his own as well.
Haven't we already been over this today? Indra thought silently as his mother continued.
Between your clan heritage, your status as part cypher and your membership status of this great village you have access to so many different and varied styles of sword-play. With so many choices, it's nearly impossible to choose what path to travel, so you will travel them all and master them each.
Indra sighed as quietly as he could, but raised his sword in preparation. This was going to be a painful lesson, his bruises ached in agreement.

Obviously you're familiar with the founding principles of Iado.
Aye mother.
But what do you know beyond that? This was a rhetorical question and Indra was aware enough to keep quiet. His mother rested her training sword by her waist, as if it were sheathed around her belt. Then, suddenly she whipped the sword out, attempting to strike Indra. He managed to track the sword, block it with his own, but just as quickly as she had struck with it, the sword was back by his mother's side.
Not bad, that is Iado in practice and you will now demonstrate the same. You must strike as quickly as possible, sheathing and unsheathing your sword at speeds your opponent can't hope to track. Now, your turn.
Indra nodded and gathered himself into a readied stance, lowering the blade to his waist as his mother had done. He did not strike immediately though, he knew she would be expecting it and although there was a snowball's chance in hell he'd actually be able to strike her, he had to keep that hope alive. A faint breeze stirred the training grounds as the two stood in silence, simply staring at each other. Seconds ticked by and surprisingly, his mother, for the first time all day, said nothing. She allowed the silence to stay, waiting for her son to make his decision. Then, before he even realized it himself, Indra was moving. He lashed out, attempting to strike his mother's left shoulder, an area people don't usually aim for and attempting to catch her by surprise. Unfortunately, she was much faster than him and just as quickly as his sword cut the air, hers rose to meet it even faster. However, unlike Indra, his mother did not simply block the strike, but instead deflected it. Indra's sword was shoved to the side, away from her and opening him up for a full on counter. The palm of her free hand slammed into his sternum, knocking him off his feet and sending him to the ground. A cloud of dust rose around him as he hit the dirt floor, wheezing he begged the air back into his lungs.

He coughed several times before rolling onto his side and forcing himself back to his feet. Dazed and confused, his mother began speaking once more, Not a bad strike, but you had to anticipate a retaliation. You left yourself wide open, so I took advantage of that. That was one of the principles of Kohaigakure's Inugami style. Redirection and positioning are fundamental to this style and while most kenjutsu users focus on hammering away at their opponents to obtain the final strike, this is a direct counter to it. By positioning yourself correctly and anticipating the opponent's strikes, you can deflect and redirect them, allowing you the finishing blow.
Indra nodded, still wheezing as air struggled back into his body. He was getting a bit tired of the feeling of suffocation while standing.
Good, on top of that, I applied one of the key principles of the Mishura style Intercepting Sword to quickly bring my sword to yours and prevent you from striking me. By combining the two, I was able to completely catch you off guard and had the potential to even disarm you if I had chose to do so. Do you see how these kenjutsu styles are potent on their own, but can be combined for devastating effects now?
Yes, mother. Indra responded, finally gaining his breathing back. His mother looked her battered son up and down, realizing he was running on fumes at this point. They had accomplished much today and pushing him too hard would only result in diminished returns during training tomorrow. She sighed, nodded and said, Good, that'll be all for today then. She turned and walked off, not bothering to wait for her son.

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime22nd February 2020, 9:47 am

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime24th February 2020, 5:25 pm

OOC: Doing week 1 of Taki Tsuyo Branch: Chakra Enhanced Strength to result in D-rank strength.

------------------------ Flashback ------------------------

Up, down, up, down, up, down. His mother's voice droned like an electronic recording as Indra's feeble 8 year old arms struggled to push his weight. This was the fourth set of twenty five and Indra was nearing his hundredth push-up at this point. Each time he struggled against the earth and gravity itself, his arms shook so violently he worried they might pop out of socket. His mother would no doubt roll her eyes in that event and tell him to quit whining, that his father could fix him up good as new and it wasn't worth getting all worked up about. It didn't help that this strength training was taking place on one of the hottest days in Indra's memory. Based on the comments his mother had been making all week about his supposed pudginess and how, "her little hippo was starting to grow up", Indra knew today had been chosen on purpose. His shirt clung to his back like a wet rag and a small puddle was forming beneath his face where sweat had run down and dripped onto the soft dirt beneath him.

Finally, with his hundredth completed, Indra collapsed, splashing the sweat puddle across his mother's feet. She regarded it with an annoyed look, but said nothing further as he lay in his own filth, the warm salt water soaking into his chapped lips. From his peripherals he could see his mother's feet leave his vision and head for the water skins. She returned and placed his bottle next to him as she drank from her own.
You should be grateful for the gifts from your father's side. Strength is not natural in the Denk- Erlang clan. Unless you're one of the Mishura Branch, you must rely on speed and reaction to avoid attacks and strike where your opponent is vulnerable. With the strength of the Taki however, your strikes will blast holes through your opponents. Your swordsmanship could join the ranks of legends. Truly, it is a blessing and a key factor in determining my mate in your father.

Indra cringed at the words mate and father being used in the same sentence. No child wanted to be reminded of the biology that brought him into this world, least of all from the mouth of his own mother. It made his skin crawl like a hundred fire ants.
Right then, no time like the present. For the next part of your training you shall drag that large chunk of stone through the training grounds and into the Detainment Zone of the village. Indra's mother said, indicating a chunk of stone that had fallen off one of the ruined walls that comprised the village. The chunk was up to his waist in height and at least as wide as he was tall. Indra held up his shaking hands, staring at them as they did so. He clenched his fists together and nodded, The sooner I get this done, the sooner this can all be over with and she'll leave me alone for a bit. He thought to himself as he made his way over to the stone.

While he and his mother trained, others had taken a notice of the pair, but kept to themselves after a dire look from his mother told them to piss off and mind their own business. A look that told them Indra was her son, not their's and she dared any one of them to say something about her child's training. Indra had initially felt bad for them, truthfully. As he approached the large stone slab, he hunched down and pressed his hands against the cool rock. He started to push, but nothing gave way, not even a inch. He sighed as others turned to look at him, not stopping their training, but getting distracted enough to at least wonder what this small child was doing. Again he positioned himself by the stone and again he pushed. This time it began to slide, slowly, centimeter by centimeter. Eventually he had enough room to take a step forward, then another, and another. Soon he was moving the stone inch by inch, pushing it across the entirety of the training grounds and that was when the others completely stopped what they're doing. One by one the sounds of shinobi training, metal clanging against one another and the grunts of effort ceased into painful silence as Indra felt each pair of eyes on him. He did not stop, nor did he look at any of them. Any drop in concentration and he was worried he'd lose his footing and the slab would stop in its tracks as he fell. Instead, he pushed on.

One kindhearted fool actually approached Indra as he pushed the slab, nearing the exit of the training grounds now.
Here boy, let me help you with that. Keep up like this and you'll throw out your back and start walking around like this old sack. The man laughed with a hearty, deep bellow. His breath smelled like cedar wood chips, but Indra said nothing as he continued to push. The man went to place a hand on the stone slab when a denki kunai appeared where one had never been before. The man recoiled his hand in fear and reflex, his eyes immediately darting to where Indra's mother walked behind her son.
The boy will complete the task on his own Roan, you may return to your training. As she spoke, a second kunai spun on her index finger, daring him to rebuttal, but like a beaten gutter dog the man named Roan backed away and back to where he stood training with a pale, blonde man around his age. Out of the corner of his eye, Indra could see Roan shaking his head and muttering something intelligible to his training partner.

An hour or so later, Indra was halfway to the Detainment Zone border. He ached and his body screamed for release. Just as he believed it would truly shut down, his mother spoke from behind him, Hmm, it's getting late and your father will most likely start to worry. I'll be returning home for the night now. She said to her son and he smiled for the briefest of moments while she couldn't see him. He turned to follow her, but she remained standing, Your training is not finished yet child. Once you have moved the slab to where I told you to deliver it, then you may return home with me. Do try to hurry, it's getting a bit chilly and the last thing you need is a cold. With that, his mother turned down the road that would lead home, leaving her son in the dark.

1122/1000 Words

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime24th February 2020, 10:03 pm

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime24th March 2020, 10:48 am

OOC: Doing week 2 of Taki Tsuyo Branch: Chakra Enhanced Strength to result in C-rank strength.

Note: Indra will not receive access to C-rank strength until AFTER the completion of the Chunin exams. Just using some dead time wisely instead of sitting around and twiddling my thumbs.

Indra stared at the massive pile of books his mother had deposited on his desk. It was a warm, sunny day, truly beautiful and the perfect day for some outdoor training. His mother didn't believe in perfect days however. On days when the wind howled and frozen rain stung your skin, Indra's mother would force him outside to train, believing that the tough conditions would only make him stronger. On days like today, when every cell of his being begged him to go outdoors and run around, catch up with friends, heck he'd even be willing to train, Indra's mother forced him to read and study. She believed that mental training and learning was just as important to creating a worthy shinobi as physical training and experience was. For his last strength exercise, Indra had been forced to drag a massive stone slab through the village for two days, spending a night shivering and sleeping on the slab until he could rest enough to continue. His arms had been on fire for days afterwards and his mother refused to allow his father to alleviate the pain, believing that this was a teaching moment and something he'd remember for the rest of his life. Well, she wasn't wrong. Indra thought as he rubbed his biceps in memory of the pain. Today, his mother had dropped off several thick, dense medical textbooks from his father's library. They covered basic human and zireh anatomy, metabolism, the functions of muscles and interactions with other systems in the body. He had books from decades ago that whenever the effects of chakra, blood and even natural energy on the body's functions, how they could be used individually or together to produce desired results in the user. It was all fascinating in its own way, and any researcher such as Indra's father would surely have had a field day with this, but for a young boy who just wanted to relax with his friends, this was in fact a new level of hell.

Indra sighed as he placed his forehead on the dusty pages of a leather bound textbook. He could smell the old wood that had been cut down and refined to thin sheets of paper. It filled his lungs along with the dust and mites and for a moment, he imagined these books toppling over, collapsing on him and burying him beneath their mountains of words and inky letters. He picked his head up, blinked several times and rubbed his eyes. He wasn't going to get anywhere if he kept taking these brain breaks to let his mind rest, but on the other hand, if he didn't take these breaks he assumed his head would explode. As he closed the book he was working on and looked through the stack to his right, he noticed one book in particular that caught his eye. It was unlike the others in many ways, most notably the color and binding. Pulling it from the stack as quickly and carefully as he could, Indra blew off a large plume of dust and age, revealing a child's story book his mother must have accidentally mixed in with all the medical textbooks.
Well, this might be a nice break. At the very least, it'll kill some time before she comes back to check on me. Indra thought as he opened up to the first page.

The story was about a young, scrawny man named Stephen Rogers. He was short and weighed barely one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. He was not a child, but supposedly a full grown man, even though he had the physique of a barely pubescent boy. He and his best friend were interested in joining their village's militia. While his friend, far different in build and muscle tone than Stephen, was enlisted in the militia immediately, the militia scout took one look at Stephen and burst out laughing. He claimed even giving Stephen a desk job could be too much for the man and result in an unforeseen injury with his weak bones and pathetic body mass. Discouraged, Stephen marched out of the militia's offices with his head held low and his heart cold.

It was at that time a strange man approached Stephen and offered him a chance at a new life and, most importantly, a new body. The man claimed to be working on never before seen jutsu, techniques that would help adapt and change a human's body to conditions he or she never would have been able to attain before. Interested, but skeptical, Stephen followed the man to his, quote on quote, laboratory. The man pulled out a jar of cool, blue liquid that sparkled beneath the harsh, pale lights of his lab. He instructed Stephen to strip and began painting strange markings and runes on his exposed flesh. Once that was done, the scientist began chanting and dancing, making movements and sounds that Stephen had never seen or heard of being required for a jutsu before. Just as Stephen was about to call off the whole thing, wipe the paint away and walk out, the man let out a high pitched, screeching noise and slapped both of his open palms on Stephen's chest. The paint began to burn and seer and for a long moment, Stephen believed the man had in fact lit him on fire. Every fiber of his being screamed as they attempted to recoil from the flames that weren't actually there. Stephen staggered back, knocking over equipment, shattering glass, all in an attempt to smear the paint away and off of his body, but no amount of pressure would remove the paint. Eventually, his body began to glow so bright, Stephen had to close his eyes to stop from going blind. He screamed in agony just as-

Your studies, are they going well? Have you learned anything yet? His mother's voice interrupted his reading, scaring Indra to such a degree that he actually jumped back. Unfortunately, jumping back in a chair meant tilting back and that sent Indra to the floor. As he fell, his foot snagged on the edge of his desk and flipped the entire table on its front, sending books and papers scattering into the wind. His mother sighed from the doorway and shook her head, Perhaps I should have had you train your reflexes and reaction. No son of mine should have been so scared to see his mother. Clean this up, pathetic. She said before turning and leaving. And no son should have to be forced to live with a mother like mine. Indra grumbled under his breath as he picked himself up off the floor.

Words Needed: 1000
Words Written: 1112

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime24th April 2020, 11:39 am

OOC: Doing week 3 of Taki Tsuyo Branch: Chakra Enhanced Strength to result in B-rank strength.

Note: Indra will not receive access to B-rank strength until AFTER the completion of the Chunin exams.

Erm, is this really such a good idea? Indra asked his mother, who stood behind the dome shaped cage. Indra was standing in a large dirt arena, surrounded by steel caging and designed as a training grounds/murder pit for capture creatures. On the other side, roughly one hundred feet away from him, was a smaller caged room that held a rather pissed off looking Conga. It stared him down, huffing and grunting regularly. You'll only grow so strong by training, it's time to put your training to the test. Growth through hardship. Trial by fire. Indra's mother said.
Says the one who isn't under fire. Indra mumbled to himself.
What was that, boy?
Nothing. Indra said quickly. There was a long pause in the air and Indra could feel his mother's piercing gaze on his back. Thankfully, she ignored his comment and continued.
Conga are powerful creatures, relatively humanoid in shape. They rely on their natural strength to deter predators and rivals in their territory. This one that the Hokkai loaned us should be around your same level of strength, if you've been keeping up with your training that is. A fight with this creature should teach you a thing or two, either how to improve your strength and overcome adversaries, or just how low you are on the natural pecking order. Either way, it should be a useful lesson. She motioned for her friend at the other side of the gate to open the creature's cage, allowing it out into the arena with Indra.

You are not to use any weapons or techniques other than taijutsu. This experience is to condition your body and train your natural strength, nothing else. His mother said as the creature eyed Indra curiously. Indra tensed, readying himself, his mind racing. Did he start? Would the Conga charge him? Was his mother going to say something? The Conga sniffed the air, resting on all fours, its curled fists large enough to wrap around Indra's entire head if it wanted to. He tried to steady his breathing, not wanting to show fear or anxiety to this creature. The ape-like monster locked eyes with him and he continued staring, remembering from a book he read awhile ago that it was a sign of dominance in the animal kingdom. For a long moment, the two just stared at each other, then Indra blinked.
Shit. Indra thought as the creature seemed to almost smile. It rose up onto its hind legs, hooting and hollering, beating its chest with its fists before crouching back to all fours and beginning its charge. Indra's body told him to flee, to run, to avoid the attack and reposition, but instead he activated his Raidengan. The Conga's movements suddenly becoming clearer, sharper, easier to track and anticipate. Indra held his ground as the ape, well over 800lbs, barreled down on him. He could feel the heat of its breath and moisture from its spittle as he sidestepped the creature at the last moment and aimed a body shot at its ribs. The creature stumbled to the side a bit, but otherwise seemed unfazed.

It turned its head and looked at him, anger in its eyes, a coming bloodshed being forecast to anyone that dare look at the Conga. Indra was transfixed by those eyes for a moment, and as a result did not see the creature's swiping back hand before it cuffed him across the face. Indra fell to the ground, a plume of dirt and dust exploding around him. His mouth had the taste of iron as he spit crimson. His world swayed and tilted around him as he fought to find his footing. He got a knee under himself before powerful hands seized his left arm and leg, hoisting him into the air.
Oh no. Indra thought dismally as the creature bellowed a war cry and tossed him through the air. Indra hit the ground once again, this time nearly half way across the arena. He rolled, attempting to protect his head and abdomen with his arms. He could feel the pebbles and rocks bite into his skin, tearing at his clothes. Indra rose faster this go around, just in time to see the creature lumber towards him, raise its fists and attempt to smash him back into the dirt. Indra was ready though, throwing himself to the left and into a roll just as the creature's fists struck the earth on which he had been standing moments ago.

The creature roared, angry that its prey had momentarily escaped, but Indra pushed himself right back into the fray. He wound up, sending an uppercut to the creature's jaw that snapped its head back with a sickening crack. For a moment, Indra wondered if he had killed the creature, only to feel its large hands close around his arms and midsection. He kicked and struggled as the Conga picked him off his feet, beginning to squeeze slowly. Indra could feel his lungs being compressed, air whistling out of his nostrils as he struggled for more. He flailed like a fish out of water, gasping for more air, begging for it. Then, as his vision began to darken around the edges, he closed his eyes. He focused, he calmed himself, feeling his heart rate slow as he compartmentalized his fear and anxiety. He turned his attention to the muscles in his arms and chest, forcing them to work, to tighten and push. He continued to push, slowly feeling the Conga's grasp weaken, inch by inch. Air rushed into his lungs, invigorating him and giving him the energy he needed for the last push as he broke free of the Conga's grasp and dropped to the dirt below.

With new found strength and an adrenaline infused anger, Indra rushed the Conga, roaring as the beast did. It was now his prey. He jumped forward, tackling the Conga to the dirt ground, establishing dominance. He pummeled the Conga with fist after fist. The beast tried to use its arms and hands to block the blows, but with his heightened reaction thanks to his Raidengan, Indra would simply redirect his blows, anticipating each block and aiming for the exposed soft parts of the creature's chest, neck and face.

At some point, though he couldn't be sure when, the Conga stopped blocking and moving all together. Panting at this point, Indra ceased his assault and slowly stepped off of the Conga's chest. He watched it rise and fall, proving he hadn't killed the beast, but it'd wake up with one hell of a headache in the morning. He walked off towards the part of the cage he had entered from, finding his mother there watching him. They locked eyes for a long moment, each watching each other, before she blinked.

Words: 1134/1000

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime27th April 2020, 9:06 am

OOC: Doing Lightning Release Specialist Training: Perfect

Okay boy, you may have a Kyougan stuck in your head from my ancestor's poor choices, but that pales in comparison to the power of the Raidengan beside it. Indra's mother said, always happy to take a moment to remind Indra of his "tainted heritage" as she called it. Indra always found it amusing that she had decided to mate with a Taki, completely removed from the Erlang clan, but prided herself on showing all the traits of a pure Denkou. If the Iwari, Mishura, and Denkou had united so many decades ago, why did people like his mother still hold so much contempt for the other branches? Regardless, Indra kept quiet as she spoke.
Now tell me child, if that thick skull of yours has actually retained anything, what is a Denkou's greatest weapon?
Lightning Release. Indra said simply, shaking from the cold rain that fell all around them. His gaze drifted to the various Denki weaponry his mother had struck into the ground around them. The sky rumbled in the distance, a faint flash beyond the cacti as the wind picked up. 1...2...3..4...5. Indra counted quietly to himself as another rumble cut off his mother's words. The worst of the storm was approaching quickly.

As I was saying, Indra's mother said, seemingly annoyed with nature itself, that's correct. We are the very essence of lightning, our bodies nothing more than tools to harness and move the flow of lightning. Our ancestors developed specialized metal alloys to better harness and control the lightning we hold dear. The pinnacle of Denkou enlightenment involves three degrees of lightning not possessed by any other creature in existence. To ever consider yourself a true Denkou, you will someday master at least one of them, though I won't hold my breath. His mother scoffed, but continued before Indra could say anything, Today, you will be practicing your control of lightning. It is important that, as both a Denkou and a Shinobi, you have proper control over your primary element. You also need a wide variety of techniques, a true arsenal of varied abilities, if you wish to survive outside the walls of this village.

As his mother continued her lecture, Indra had a creeping thought about the purpose of this training and the methodology of his mother's madness. With so many Denki weapons surrounding them, drawing the storm closer, surely she didn't intend for Indra to be struck by lightning? Any normal person would scoff at that idea. What mother would roll the dice on her son's life just to expedite his training? Most mothers would agree, not them, that was for sure. Indra's mother was not like most mothers though, that had been clear from day one. No, she'd gladly risk his life to quicken his development. At this age, Indra was confident that if anything did happen to him, she'd be disappointed in the loss of progress over the loss of his actual life. As far as she was concerned, Indra would either grow rapidly or die trying and each possibility seemed equally satisfying.

1...2...3... Indra counted as the grey clouds suddenly erupted in a flash of bright light. The storm was nearly on top of them now. The cacti surrounding their open meadow swayed violently in the brisk wind. Rain came down nearly horizontally at this point, stinging Indra's exposed skin with each drop. His mother had to yell to be heard over the howl of the wind at this point.
The Denki in these weapons will protect us as the storm passes over, drawing the lightning in and away from us. Well, that was good at least. She had no intention of accidentally killing Indra today.
Once some of them have been charged by the lighting strikes, you must quickly wield them, allowing the discharge of excess energy to pass through your body. Your body will adapt quickly, learning to harness such a massive influx of lightning so it doesn't shut down on you.
Spoke too soon. Indra muttered to himself, confident his mother wouldn't be able to overhear him due to the pelting rain and gale force winds. He placed an arm on his forehead, attempting to block the rain and wind a bit so as to actually see his mother through this monsoon. Lightning cracked, thunder boomed, signalling the storm's position directly overhead now.

Indra stared up in amazement at the raw power of nature that towered above them. He had experienced storms before, but not out in the open like this. He had never taken the time to appreciate the destructive forces of the world, until he was standing directly in the path of one. He activated his Raidengan just as a strike of lightning ripped through the air, striking one of the kunai his mother had placed. The flash was so intense, Indra had to not only close his eyes, but turn away from it so as not to be blinded. This close to the strike, Indra could feel the hair on his body stand up, charged by the lightning. The air around him tasted burnt from where the lightning had shredded molecules. Another strike, this one closer to his mother, then another. He kept his eyes closed, fearful of any lasting effects, instead focusing on his other senses. The taste, smell, sound of raw, pure lightning all around him. This was completely unlike anything he had ever created, any chakra he had ever used. Even his super-vibrato blade technique, one o f his most powerful, seemed only a fraction of the power of these lightning strikes.

As the storm seemed to pass overhead, he could hear his mother shout, Now boy, cease one of the charged blades! Do it now! Reacting rather than thinking, Indra lunged for one of the kunai he had seen be struck. He knew if he stopped to consider what he was doing, his body would stop him. As soon as he seized the kunai and pried it from the ground, his entire body lit up with energy. His muscles spasmed and contracted, sheer agony ripping through his being. An intense heat burned through his hand, to his chest and then rippled through the rest of his body. For a moment, he believed he was blinded as a bright light seemed to shine from behind his eyeballs. Indra let loose a cry of pain mixed with anger, willing to do anything for the pain to stop. His medical training kicked in as he realized his blood pressure was through the roof, well beyond dangerous levels. His heart was working overtime, his pulse thundering in his chest and Indra half expected to suddenly stop feeling it all together. Perhaps his heart would burst, perhaps his organs would simply cook within him. Finally, the pain seemed to pass, to dull and numb within him.

He was breathing hard now, so hard that it was all he could hear even over the pelting rain. He looked around slowly, noticing a massive ring of scorched earth all around him where the lightning had exited his body. He looked at his mother who simply nodded and said, Good. Come, we should change out of these soaked clothes. Your father is amazing, but not even he can cure the common cold. With that, she would stroll off towards home, not waiting to see if Indra could even move.

1231/1000 words

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime23rd April 2021, 8:08 am

Weekly Training:

Up, boy. You're already late for training. Enough lazing around and get on with it, we have much to do. Indra's mother said from his bedroom door. Indra groaned and rolled over, wiping a mop of blonde hair from his eyes. Outside the sun had yet to even rise, not even the fingers of dawn were creeping beyond the horizon. It wasn't morning, it was well and truly still night. Up and dressed within the next five minutes or there will be hell to pay. His mother said, beginning to leave.
There already will be even if I wait. Indra mumbled.
What was that, boy?! His mother yelled back from the hallway.
Coming! Indra quickly responded, throwing the covers off his bed and swinging out to the floor. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned, three hours of sleep wasn't enough for anyone, never mind someone that was about to be put through a grueling regime of strength training.

Through the fog that clouded his waking mind, Indra went through the motions of changing into his training garb and rustled his hair enough to at least look semi-presentable to the outside world. Although, he considered that surely no one else would be on the training grounds at this time. He could train naked for all anyone cared really. Regardless, he quickly made his way to the kitchen, where his father sat reading some medical forms from the clinic. He turned, regarding Indra with a warm smile, Morning, son.
Hrngf. Indra responded, which, as far as he was concerned meant "Good morning, Father, how are you this fine morning?"
His father chuckled and stood as Indra took a seat beside his chair. Your mother said she would meet you at the training grounds and instructed me to make sure you ate quickly, as she had no time to waste waiting for a lazy child. Her words.
Indra simply nodded, staring at the table. His brain was struggling quite a bit this morning.
Here, drink this. It has herbs to wake you up and spices to not taste like...well...hot plant water. And eat some oatmeal, it'll get you through the training.

Indra nodded his thanks silently and touched the mug to his lips. It was...well, it wasn't bad. It wasn't good either, just SPICED hot plant water, but still. What he was surprised by, was how awake he felt afterwards. It wasn't immediate, but he could feel it, like a slow, warm burn waking up his insides and spreading to his extremities.
I don't know how much more I can take of her insane training. Indra admitted, not looking at his father, who in turn sighed.
Your mother is... He trailed off, thinking and Indra mentally filled in the gap thinking, "a colossal bitch?" but said nothing. ...intense. We agreed long ago that we have different parenting styles, but ultimately just want what's best for you. Having you, for her, was pure luck. You were never supposed to exist, as far as the doct- as far as we were concerned or knew. You were a miracle to her and she treats you so harshly out of fear of losing you. She wants you to be as strong as possible, to be able to handle anything and rise above the dangers of the world. She just...forgets to show her reasons sometimes. His father explained.

Begrudgingly, Indra nodded, he understood that to a degree. Though, it didn't make these mornings any easier. Being of the Taki side of you, let me tell you a little secret about our strength training. She's been pushing your physical strength, as she should. We're built for that, use our muscles in the most efficient way possible to make for not only excellent medics but warriors as well. What few people talk about, is training your mental strength. Try disassociating yourself from the pain, the ache in your muscles and even your mother's voice sometimes. Don't tell her I said that, but practice steeling yourself, your mind. It's a muscle in its own right. His father said and Indra nodded. That was actually...very helpful advice and something he had subconsciously been practicing for weeks now, but knowing that it was something many Taki did as well, somehow helped.
Thank you, genuinely. I...I think I know what I can do.
Good. His father smiled, happy to be of help to his son, Now hurry and finish that breakfast. Neither of us want your mother coming back here before you get to the training grounds.

Indra nodded and scarfed down his oatmeal, but waited and savored the tea for a few extra minutes. He allowed it to work its way through his system, filling him with warmth and energy in preparation for the cold morning outside. Finally, done with his meal, he thanked his father and headed out the door, steeling himself from the cold as he stepped outside. The shroud of night was an ancient cold, that was as much jarring in its appearance as it was in the actual temperature. There was something primordial about it, the back of his mind screamed in its discomfort at being out in the dark, alone. He quieted those screams, focusing on something else and training his mental muscles on the walk to the training fields.

Surprisingly, it helped. As his mother ran him through the usual training exercises, he found himself not noticing the aches in his muscles. He seemed to be able to run longer, jump higher and lift more, becoming exhausted slower. True, he was training his actual body so it was naturally able to do these things, but not focusing on the pain or exhaustion helped him push. The most surprising aspect of it all, was his mother's own surprise as he worked through the training with little complaint. By the end, sweating, sucking wind and on the verge of collapse, his mother regarded the sky just as the top of the sun crested the horizon and blew her whistle.
She approached Indra, laying a hand on his back and said softly, Well done today, you surprised me. And that was it. She walked off, back in the direction of home with nothing else, but Indra realized that was possibly the kindest thing she had ever said to him.

1035/1000

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime23rd April 2021, 12:40 pm

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime24th May 2021, 8:54 am

Specialization Training:

You will be a tool for this village and the Republic at large. Your father's genes will serve this task well, but unlike him you were not destined to be cooped up in a hospital. While his path is commendable, you will be so much more, more than even I have become child.
Indra. Indra corrected her, he never liked when she referred to him as some abstract creature. At this interruption, his mother gave him a side eyed look, but continued,
You will carve your way through the village's enemies and defend it to your last breath. If the invasion of the Bijuu recently has shown us, the Republic anything, it's that we need the next generation to be ready. Kohaigakure may have fared better than the others, but that means little. Many great shinobi were lost and now, though the Bijuu have been sealed, we need to contend with the ever present idea that they could become unsealed at any moment. Placing such monstrous demons within children of all thins, how that could be the best option... His mother shook her head, trailing off and clearly too annoyed to bother finishing her thought.
Regardless, you will pick up where others fail. You will continue pushing and achieving.
Is that why you push me the way that you do? Indra asked. Only months ago he wouldn't have dared interrupt his mother or even ask her questions. Yes, mother. No, mother. Were his go to phrases and had served him well through the grueling training exercises she seemed to put him through day in and day out ever since he had become an Academy Student a couple years ago. Lately though, whether due to his growing age and maturity or his skill level, he had slowly found a voice for himself and a small rebellion against this woman was bubbling within him. He was far from ready, but having something to cultivate and grow, that had given him a new purpose.

His mother paused for a long moment, letting the question hang in the air before nodding, It is, Indra, it is. One of several reasons if I'm being completely transparent. I have seen weakness, both in body and mind that has lead to the destruction of not only the weak individual, but others around him. You must continue to push, always striving for more and to be better than you are. Never settle, never become complacent. You have the potential for such greatness, child. To squander that potential would be a disservice to the world, not just yourself.
Indra nodded, though he didn't entirely agree. It was true what she said, or at least he had been noticing it over the months. He was a bit different than the average genin. A mixed clan blood wasn't unheard of, but it was far from common as well. Combine with that the two different races he had within him and, even among the Erlang the oddity of heterochromatica. Indra was...odd when compared to the vast majority of Genin his age. It wasn't something he liked to dwell on all that often, though his mother seemed to bring it up more than enough to keep him reminded.

I understand, so why are we here? Indra asked, wanting to move this along. His mother had taken to more abstract thinking lately. A distant look grew in her eyes as she monologued some mornings before training. At first it had been nice, having mostly replaced the constant yelling and reprimanding. Now though, Indra was finding it troubling, even disturbing at times.
We are here to turn you into a knife for the Republic. The Blade of Kohaigakure. You have learned much, though your Kenjutsu still leaves much to be desired. You have deviated from our training as of late, seeking wisdom from your father and his people. While the Taki taijutsu techniques are useful, we need you to fully embrace your combat capabilities. Taki Medical techniques are second and should be seen only as supplements for your raw abilities to destroy and fight.
Her emotionless words chilled Indra slightly. She spoke with such a matter of fact, as though this is what it would always come to regardless of the type of child...the type of person Indra grew into.
Being part of a village means shirking your individuality in favor for what is best for the common good. The village itself must do this to make sure the Republic continues to function. Without the Republic, we would return to a warring state, just like in the olden times. When alliances were fragile at best and the blood of the shinobi flowed freely in the lands between us. While the main objective is to always avoid this, should such a time come again, you must be ready to defend your village, your people and your home.

The Republic has stood for a long, long time mother. Even now we work together freely and willingly to help one another in this time of crisis. I would say we've never been more united than we are now, dealing with the fallout of these Bijuu attacks.
Indra's mother nodded, Indeed little knife, that is what it appears on the surface. You are keen to observe that, but not keen enough to see what lies beneath the surface. Not yet anyway. Times of crisis are opportunities for all. Most will see them as an opportunity for unification, but the villages have been weakened. Some more than others and rarely in the history of the Republic has there been such a massive gulf in power and readily available troops among the individual villages. It's cracking the relationships and making some question alliances, seeking for areas they can widen those cracks, perhaps even shatter bonds for their own gains. Make no mistake, the actual Bijuu attacks were not the real danger of this terrible event.
So that's why you want me to be ready to defend myself.
No child, that's why I want you to be ready to kill these opportunists.
Indra nodded, but said nothing more as the two stood in silence, facing the horizon.
From this moment on, you will primarily focus on your combat capabilities. You may grow to resent me, more than you already do I assume,
Indra cringed at this, but said nothing.
but in the end, when the time comes and you are equipped to do what must be done, you will thank me.

1061/1000

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime24th May 2021, 2:30 pm

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime27th May 2021, 10:48 am

Hmm. Indra hummed aloud as he ran through the scroll his mother had left for him. Fuinjutsu wasn't exactly a specialty of his. Most people dedicated years of their lives to studying fuinjutsu and sealing theories, developing intricate seals and seal strings to, in all honesty, warp realty as they needed. Granted, seal strings like those took massive amounts of chakra and time to dedicate to learning, but still, it was possible. As it were, the two clans Indra belonged to each dabbled in Fuinjutsu to some degree. Though neither dedicated much of their training or teachings to it, they still had found uses for the strange type of jutsu. The Taki, his father said had some extremely high level capabilities but he had quickly indicated that it wasn't the time or place for Indra to learn them just yet. Though he hoped his son would follow in his footsteps and become a surgeon, he knew better than to expect that for as long as Indra's mother was around. Still, he had indicated that the seals and techniques the Taki could later teach him would help him just as much in combat as they would outside of it.

As for the Erlang, the Denkou branch in particular were renound for their ability to rapidly seal and produce weapons, which is what Indra would be focusing on today. While the techniques for Flash Blade could become quite intense later on down the road, his mother had indicated that the initial starting seals and seal string were easy enough for a child to understand. Though, with a sigh, Indra quickly realized he wasn't made for this. The lightning aspect of the Denkou? Easy. The raw strength and aggression of the Mishura? No problem for Indra. Even the bodily control and understanding of functions given to him by the Taki? It took some studying, but he never felt in over his head. This though, these seal theories and such were overbearing to say the least. The words themselves were just bricks upon bricks of text, delving deep into how to draw the seal, activate it and maintain it while also giving an intense history of the technique. While Indra could appreciate the effort and nuances of its creation, he didn't see the need to include such a rich history in what was effectively the instruction manual.

Sitting back against the rock behind him, Indra put his head back, closed his eyes and let out a soft groan. Even the diagrams are intricate beyond belief. These are supposed to be C-rank seals? He asked no one in particular, his mind wandering to some of the higher level Taki seals his father had spoken about. Had it not been for the fact an Erlang elder guided him through the summoning tattoo for Durga, Indra was now 100% confident he'd have never met the little salamander. With a sigh, Indra stood and rolled the scroll. Well, no point in delaying any further, let's at least try this out. He placed the thin cloth wristbands he had picked up from the store on the way over over his wrists and bit his thumb. Slowly, he used the blood to start drawing the Flash Blade seal onto the wristband. It was messy, not just because he was writing with his thumb in blood, but because he kept second-guessing himself and needing to pause, unroll the scroll, check and then return to his drawing. Though it only took a minute or two, Indra felt like it took several hours. Though few others were on the training grounds at this time, he looked about frequently, confident they were staring at him and judging harshly.

Alright that should...do it... He said, cocking his head to the side and squinting at the scribble of tried blood, I think. He fished around in his back pocket, pulling out one of his Denki Kunai and pressed the tip gently to the wristband, careful not to disrupt the seal marking or worse, puncture the wristband and his wrist altogether.
Activate.
Nothing happened.
Seal!
Nothing happened.
Abra kadabra.
Nope.
Please? Indra now tried pleading to the blood drawn seal, still nothing. He sighed and hung his head in shame, realizing he'd probably have to start over.
Oh wait, duh! He thought, cycling chakra through his body and suddenly the blood seal began to let out a faint glow. He touched the kunai to the seal once more and in a puff of smoke, it was ripped from his hands. He patted himself down, making sure nothing had gone wrong before smiling, Okay, alright, this could work.

He clapped his hand together, rubbing them in thought, Now how to get it back... He thrust his hand down to his left side, palm open and out as he cycled chakra once more and willed the kunai into existence. In a flash of light this time, the Denki Kunai appeared in his palm. Whoa. Indra said, inspecting the kunai and realizing it in fact was the kunai he had just sealed away moments before. He continued like this, practicing sealing and unsealing the kunai before moving onto something a bit more advanced. Holding his arm up and back in a prepared throwing motion, Indra rapidly unsealed the kunai and then extended his arm, throwing it with enough spin to cause to go out in an arc and then circle back towards him. Using his Raidengan to track it, Indra side stepped the incoming kunai point and snatched it from the air by the handle. As soon as his hand closed around the kunai handle though, he induced the seal, causing it to disappear from his grip.

Oh yes, we can definitely find some uses for this. Indr said proudly.

Words: 947/800

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime15th June 2021, 8:06 am

Today, Indra sat atop a rock. This wasn't terribly different from other days really, but today he wasn't reading. Instead, he was meditating...or so it seemed. The young shinobi sat atop the boulder, legs crossed, hands placed on his knees and back straight. His eyes were closed and he seemed very stoic, picturesque even, like a true model of what poise and control could look like in the younger gen- Gaaaaaah this suckssss! He suddenly said, throwing his head back and groaning towards the sky. He fell back onto the top of the boulder, stretching out and staring up at the deep blue above. I thought mom's exercises were bad, but at least they weren't boring. Indra complained and another voice, towards the base of the boulder chuckled, Your mother's trainings take a physical fortitude to endure and better yourself with. Mine? Well they take more of a mental fortitude. Indra's father was a calm man, one had to be as a surgeon. Steady, reliable and soft spoken. In many odd ways, he was similar to the boulder Indra now sat atop. Today's lessons had been taken over by him, an oddity to say the least. He was usually either too busy at the hospital, or Indra's mother had already roused the boy before dawn and taken him to the training grounds.

Instead, his mother was traveling with other members of the Denkou branch this week, something that seemed to be happening more and more lately. Indra found it a bit odd, but didn't question the break he got from his mother's grueling training regiment. Although he had to admit, it did pay off and he was obviously improving in many areas she had been focusing on. As a user of the Tsuyo Branch, you must learn to adapt your body to more than just the impressive strength the branch is based around. The Tsuyo style of our clan is all about bodily control, much like the Ai Branch focuses on healing and repairing the body and the Dokou focuses on poisoning and destroying the opponent's body. The Tsuyo is the middle of the road, we take what we are given and use it to its absolute pinnacle, getting the most out of each movement. Most see the Tsuyo as meat heads who smash things, unexpected but dependable strength, but a true Tsuyo Branch member calculates his every move so that not a single iota of energy is wasted. These deep breathing exercises I'm teaching you, they will expand on that idea and help you more than you could ever realize until you're already in the thick of battle.

Indra sighed, I know Dad, I'm sorry. I'm sure they will. I'm just used to being in nearly life or death situations with Mom, so this somehow...it makes me itch with anticipation. I don't like just sitting around, I feel like I'm missing something or about to get something thrown at me if I let my guard down. Indra said, assuming his meditative position once again. Yes, that is a...side effect of your mother's training. On the one hand it sharpens your observational skills and reactions, allowing you to prepare yourself for almost anything hopefully. On the other hand, it makes your body always ready and alert to danger...which means your brain never gets a chance to rest. This is your rest, use it, enjoy it, focus on it. Indra's father suggested and the boy nodded, continuing his meditating as best he could.

Words: 580/500

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime15th June 2021, 9:32 am

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime3rd July 2021, 8:37 am

Training For:

Tell me, how do you believe your training is going, son? Indra's mother asked while he sifted through the reading material in the small den of their house. She stood by the door, watching him and had been for several minutes. He had been well aware of her, but at this point in their relationship he only acknowledged her when she directly addressed him. He had grown tired of constantly being on edge in his own house and around his own mother for Kami's sake. Her frequent disappearances and unannounced trips had actually become a welcome regularity in his life, albeit a bit strange. However, today she was home and that meant Indra would be her focus, unfortunately for him. Even her simple question had the stink of a trap laying in wait to spring once he answered, so he took his time doing so, pulling a scroll from the top shelf and slightly unrolling it. He didn't bother to look to her when answering, instead simply said over his shoulder, Fine mother, I am progressing well and have completed a number of missions during your absences. Internally he cringed a bit, realizing the last part had been unnecessary and merely an escape from his mind due to how he felt. That little comment would most likely cost him later. His mother nodded, entering the den and taking a seat in one of the two chairs behind him.

Mhmm yes, I know. I checked in at the mission counter when I returned to the village last night after my own mission. You seem to be moving quickly through the requirements for your Tokubetsu Jonin exams. Thankfully, Indra's back was still to her as he pretended to read a scroll on lightning release techniques, so she didn't see the quizzical look on his face when she mentioned her own mission. As far as he knew, she hadn't been dispatched on any sort of mission for the village. Shinobi were still being dispatched to clean up from the Bijuu attack, though things were starting to wrap up more or less. It was possible the mission had been kept off the assignment boards everyone had access to, but his mother was no ANBU, just a regular general forces Shinobi. Her comment stunk of a lie, but she was speaking again and he quickly realized he had missed the first part of it.
...your Raidengan?
He shook his head, Sorry mother, I was reading about this lightning banquet technique in the scroll, could you repeat the question? He asked, turning to face her now to show genuine interest in what she wanted. She frowned, crossing her arms in front of her as if to study him, but repeated what she had asked anyway, I was merely asking on the progress of your Raidengan specifically. Though, hearing you were reading about Lightning Banquet does give me a modicum of hope.

Ah yes, his Raidengan. Never the Kyougan, only ever the Raidengan. At a young age Indra had questioned why his mother was so curious and interested in his Raidengan but never bothered to teach him about the Kyougan. It was only as he got older that it became clear to him it was because she hated the fact that he had a Kyougan and wasn't a pure blooded Denkou. It was odd too, a freak accident or mutation really, considering she herself was a pure Denkou and his father was a Taki. The issue was, the Taki and Erlang clans, or what became the Erlang clan anyway, had a long history stretching back several generations. In fact, Indra had once read in the Academy that at least two of the lesser deities had originally been both a Taki-Erlang hybrid like him. Regardless of how interesting and impressive that was, it only seemed to make his mother hate his Kyougan more, no longer even acknowledging its existence.
Training with my Raidengan slowed for a bit while I focused on other...facets of my abilities. However, I'm planning to complete its evolution before my exams and will be turning my focus to it exclusively in the coming weeks.
His mother narrowed her eyes as if searching for something in his words but nodded, I see. What stage do you posses?
The first, mother.
A long road to travel still then. She said coolly.
He nodded, It would seem so.

She looked about the room again, as if searching for something more to say but decided against it.
Very well then, far be it from me to distract you in your endeavors. She rose from the chair and made her way to the door.
My Kyougan is also progressing well, though even slower. Father helped me locate a scroll detailing what I'll need to do to complete its evolution. With activation combined with my Taki Strength, my Strength levels are on par with Samurai and should give me an edge over most competition in the exams. Indra more or less blurted out before she left. He hadn't been planning on saying anything about the Kyougan, it was simply easier not to. However, it was something about the way she regarded him, her words had struck a chord and those eyes, those damn eyes studying him like a rotten piece of meat she was debating throwing in the trash but knew she was stuck with. His mother froze at the doorway, an action that for some reason actually gave Indra a sense of satisfaction in the moment.
That is... She started, searching for the words, good to hear, my son. Though inferior to the Raidengan, no tool in a Shinobi's arsenal should ever be ignored. I will talk to some contacts I have within our clan who favor this other eye and see if I can get any information on it or...advice. With that, she left Indra in the den, alone with his scrolls and although she had seemed suddenly warm and even helpful with a topic Indra knew she hated, something didn't feel right about it. Instead of a sense of warmth and excitement at his mother expressing interest and willingness to help in something other than what she decided on her own, he felt a hollow pit in his stomach. Though he studied about various Lightning Release techniques for the remainder of the afternoon, the hollow feeling stayed with him.

Words: 1049/1000

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Indra T. Erlang:


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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime13th July 2021, 3:14 am

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime13th July 2021, 11:28 am

Jutsu Being Trained:

Training had been brutal this afternoon, more so than he was used to. His mother was home and had been for the last few days, longer than she had been in the last few months really. So of course, she spent that time drilling into Indra who was nearing the required number of missions he needed to be eligible for the Tokubetsu Jonin exams. It seemed his mother wanted him to not only pass, but crush whatever competition was thrown his way. As it was, she was demanding that his Raidengan be fully matured before entering the exams, something almost unheard of amongst Denkou Branch Genin. It wasn't impossible, but required a level of dedication and training that most didn't complete until well into the Chunin/Tokubetsu Jonin level, sometimes even not until around Jonin level. Indra thought of it as unnecessary, his mother found it to be a bare minimum requirement. Ironic really once he found out she had only achieved the second stage before her own exams nearly a lifetime ago. Upon returning home, whether it had been the heat, the excursion, an oncoming illness or some combination of all three, Indra's father had checked in on him to find he had spiked a low grade fever. His mother of course wanted to return to the training grounds later that night after they had eaten and rested, but his father, surprisingly, had stood his ground and demanded they be done for the night so the fever could pass. Thankful, Indra ate his dinner in silence before retiring to his room. He peeled the sweat soaked shirt from his back, the energy to even bathe leaving him quickly as he flopped onto the mattress. The blankets felt cool on his skin and he knew that going under the covers was non-negotiable with this fever. Already he was sweating, the fan above doing its best to combat the heat he felt burning within him. It was uncomfortable, his skin itched with sweat and illness, a mild headache was beginning to creep up from the back of his brain and into his temples. Thankfully, the battle between discomfort and exhaustion was quickly decided and sleep took him like a dark cloak in the night.

---- Dream Sequence...? ----

Indra awoke in the sky, though it took him a moment to realize that's where he was. He had never actually been in the sky before. Salamanders didn't exactly have wings, not that Durga could've carried him in her current size and he had never learned an aerial movement technique so suddenly awaking in the sky, clouds racing BENEATH him was...disorienting to say the least.
WAAAAAAH! The young genin yelled, whirling his arms and kicking his legs about in sudden surprise. His body and brain naturally assuming he was falling to his death and there was nothing he could do about it. However, after a moment of frightful screaming and confusion, Indra realized even with all of his hysterical flailing, he wasn't actually falling. In fact, his vertical position hadn't changed at all, but still the clouds raced beneath him as he flew through the sky. Calming himself and realizing he was in no immediate danger, Indra began to look around and take in his surroundings. It occurred to him he was clearly dreaming, what other explanation could there be? As far as he knew, his mother had no way of performing flight either, so it wasn't as if this was some sort of surprise training exercise. Curious, he took a moment to feel around and see if he had any control over his flight. Leaning his weight towards the right seemed to nudge him in that direction, as did doing the same on the left. He put his hand out, fully extending his arm and used it as sort of a rudder to steer him. He banked with more force now, turning more rapidly.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, alright, kinda getting the hang of this now. He muttered to himself, realizing quickly that it was strange how quiet it was up here. No whipping wind or anything like that, even though he had to be moving at at least bullet release speeds by his estimation.

Just as he finished that thought however, the boom of thunder interrupted him. Unlike while on the ground, Indra was essentially in the storm cloud as it boomed, causing a rattling sensation through his bones. Then came the flash of lightning, blindingly brilliant, he had to shield his eyes with an outstretched arm and even that did little to block the white hot light.
Wait, he said, thinking aloud, doesn't thunder come AFTER the lightning? He pondered this for a moment, beginning to realize just how strange this dream world really was, even in its most minute, irrelevant details. Again the thunder boomed and lightning flashed in their reverse order, several more times in fact. Each one he was more and more prepared for, however, as the continued their pace seemed to speed up with far less time between intervals. He was obviously entering some kind of storm system the more he flew. At one point, he tried banking hard enough to the right to actually turn himself around and fly in the opposite direction. While this had worked, he didn't seem to leave the storm, in fact the pace of the thunder and lightning only sped up. Frustrated, Indra simply settled in for the ride. By the time he was nearly deaf and blind, it began to rain...upside down. Rather than splattering from above, he was above the clouds so the rain fell upwards towards him in this topsy turvy, backwards place. It began to soak the front of his shirt, pelting him in the face and slamming small rain drops into his sinuses. Quickly the rain became a torrent, a reverse monsoon if you will and the thunder and lightning came so steadily now that Indra wasn't sure if the order was still reversed or not. Between the pelting rain and flashes of hot plasma, he was thoroughly blind at this point.

See, boy! A loud voice echoed between thunder claps. Indra looked around frantically, searching for the source of this voice, but even if he had been able to see more than a few inches in front of him, he'd have found nothing and no one. The voice came again, louder this time, perhaps angrier or at least more annoyed.
SEE, BOY! It yelled, louder than any thunder clap he had experienced. Confused, Indra simply yelled back, I CAN'T!
Not with those eyes, your true eye. The voice said calmer this time, more like a bored teacher who had already reviewed the material several times but received the same questions. His true eye? Singular? Indra shook his head, thinking, puzzled and then it came to him. He closed his eyes and activated his Raidengan. Immediately the sight of the rain left him, though it still pelted his face and body. It had not stopped, it simply didn't appear within the frame of his electromagnetic vision. The lightning still flashed, though it was more defined now, showing its branching arcs rather than just bright, hot flashes. Just as he got his bearings and became used to this secondary vision, the rain began to slow and then cease. The thunder clapped one last time and a straight line of lightning flashed before him before the skies became still for the first time in what felt like had been hours of flight. Indra looked about, though could see only the electrically charged clouds before opening his other closed eye and seeing the sky in a normal vision once more.
Suddenly he began descending.

Um, uh, whoa. Hold on now! He said, realizing he had no control over this descent. It wasn't rapid, and the air seemed to shift his weight so his feet came under him in an almost standing position rather than behind him as they had been during flight. Still, the idea of being completely out of control of his own movement was unnerving to say the least. As he passed into the clouds, they seemed to part, revealing a massive tree beneath him with gnarled roots that threaded through a rocky shelf below. The sky, or whatever force was controlling him, deposited him on the rocky shelf, several hundred feet before the base of the tree. He took a step, stumbling awkwardly but ultimately maintaining his balance. He looked about, confused and back towards the sky which rippled and thundered quietly, almost an echo of the storm he had passed through. It seemed the only path forward was towards the tree, so he walked that way, taking in its sheer size. He tried to understand just how large it was, tried to put it into perspective for himself and realized that had this been placed within the village...it would almost certainly be the village. The trunk in front of him was like a wall of bark, roots thicker than buildings curved and bent through the earth, sometimes rising several stories as he walked along the path. Eventually, the path opened up, revealing a wooden chair...though  it was more like a throne really. Amongst this massive tree it seemed puny. Within that chair sat an old man, his beard white and grey, long but braided and well kept. His face was scarred with age and battles and one eye was even covered by a patch. Seeing no one else around, Indra approached hesitantly, Uh, hi. I know I'm dreaming but...
I see you have the true eye. The man said in the same voice Indra had heard up above in the clouds, though softer given the close proximity they now shared.

Indra reached up and touched his face, the cheek beneath his Raidengan and said, Um, yes I guess I do.
This is good. The old man said, then fell silent. Indra waited for more than a comfortable amount of time, wondering if the old man would say anything else, but he seemed content in his silence.
Right so... Indra started, unsure of what to say next.
Unfortunately, it's still in its infancy, barely a babe weened off of its mother's teet. The man said, still staring at Indra with his one good eye.
Um..what? My eye? What about a teet? Indra asked, completely baffled by this man's metaphor.
You still have much to go, a journey ahead with this eye.
Talk about mothers, you sound like mine. Indra said, becoming a bit annoyed with this old man's cryptic talking. Alright, this has been fun and all but I think I'm going to go throw myself off that cliff back there and jumpstart my body awake. That usually works, right? Always wake up before you hit the ground or so-
I will awaken your power, move you forward on the path of becoming a true storm lord. The old man said, cutting Indra off with a raised hand.
A what now?
The old man rose from his chair. Though Indra had naturally assumed he would be frail and slow based on his advanced age, he moved with a level of grace and power that Indra found both fascinating and unnerving. A black cloak draped around him, obscuring most of what he wore, though from a quick glance Indra could make out metals and leather armor with fur beneath the cloak.
Come, walk with me amongst the World Tree. The man said, not looking back to see if Indra was following.
Do I have a choice? Indra asked, somewhat sarcastically.
You do not. The man's voice echoed behind him now and Indra turned instinctively falling into a defensive position but found only roots there, the old man still walking on ahead of him. In the distance, more thunder rumbled quietly and another arc of lightning flashed. A crow's caw followed that from up among the tree branches and the black winged creature swooped down heading directly for the old man. Indra was about to yell out a warning to the old man before the crow slowed its descent with several beats of its wing and landed gingerly on the man's cloaked shoulder. Indra scratched his head, realizing this had to be the strangest dream he had ever had the misfortune of birthing, but shrugged and finally followed the old man, jogging to catch up to him.

So a storm lord? You might have the wrong guy, unfortunately. I'm an Erlang...and a Taki actually, but neither of them have access to Storm Release. I think you're looking for...oh man...what's that clan's name. A...Arinjin? No, hmm...A something. Indra thought aloud but the old man merely shook his head.
You think too literally, the Arashi have their own mastery of the storm, more so than you will ever have most likely. What I speak of however is more esoteric...more ancient. The Raidengan is an ancient eye, going back long before you, your people or even the people you've most likely read about or heard through stories. It is the eye of the storm, giving a mastery of what you call lightning release unparalleled throughout the rest of your world. That is what I refer to when I speak of such things. He turned now, following the path of a gargantuan, gnarled root that was thicker than a tree itself.
So you're, or rather a manifestation of my subconscious in the form of an old man and his pet crow, are going to help me complete my training of the Raidengan...during a dream? Indra asked, some incredulity slipping into his voice. The old man seemed amused by this question, a thin smile cracking his lips.
If that's how you choose to view it, so be it. He said nothing more as they continued their walk, but before Indra could inquire further, the roots seemed to open up and they came beneath a low hanging branch on the tree. Something above shifted and Indra watched in horror as vines lowered a feminine figure from above. They wrapped around her arms tightly, her head hung loosely, fallen into her chest and Indra lost the breath in his lungs as a familiar face became visible on the figure.
Mother? He asked breathlessly, his eyes bulging in confusion. For the briefest of moments he forgot this was a dream and a deep feeling, a need to protect washed over him. Instinctively he reached for the sword at his hip, ready to slay this old man and free his mother from his vines, but of course found no sword there. He looked around frantically for a weapon, perhaps a dropped branch he could use to beat the man back and free his mother.
Be calm child, this is of course not truly your mother. After all, this is all just a dream and I am merely a manifestation of your subconscious, am I not? The man said with an almost amused tone, as if he were mocking Indra.
If that's the case then I want her down and released, now.
No, I'm afraid you do not.
Of course I do! Who are you to tell me what I-
Your mother is tainted.
What?
Tainted. Purposefully I might add, her own doing. Although if you wanted to debate the morality of who's responsible in a group setting with a leader, I suppose it might not truly be considered her own doing. The man seemed to ponder this for a moment before shrugging, as if done with the thought and unable to be bothered with it further. He stepped towards her as she lowered now to their height and pulled her head back gently, The world tree shows me all Denkou of past, present and even future at times, though those are rare. I check in on them, their progress, their Raidengan. She has been tainted as I said, in her search for power she fell to an almost irredeemable side of the storm. Unfortunately, it's hardly rare for that to be true amongst you Denkou. The man sighed and for a moment, he seemed the age he appeared. As if time itself had taken its toll on him and Indra couldn't believe how real and visceral his mind could be at times.

You said you would help me, or train me, to further my Raidengan. How does this help? Indra asked, growing impatient.
It shows you a path, boy. A path that is not only easy to fall into, but one that you will be lead down by the very people you call family. It will tempt you with power, great power, but at the cost of a heavy burden that will change you...warp you...disfigure your very soul. The man reached up and gently pushed open his mother's eyelid, revealing an eye Indra had never seen before, with a red iris and black jagged pattern swirling around it.
This, boy, is the Mashin Raidengan, gained through the murder of a fellow clansmen.
That's a lie, this is an illusion. I've seen my mother's Raidengan and it's a normal eye. Not...tainted like that.
You're right, you have seen it...years ago. The man said calmly, allowing the implication to hang in the air.
Indra shook his head, resolute, No, my mother still has her Raidengan. He turned to leave, done with this fever dream and off to search for that cliff he had landed on earlier.
She has been gone, without word or warning, on numerous trips...or missions...or classified meetings. Which is it? Any of them? The man asked from behind and Indra froze. How did this old man know...? No, wait, of course. It was just a part of Indra's brain, apparently given too much individuality. That's how the old man knew, it was Indra's own brain feeding off of its fear and doubt in his mother, especially considering how much it had grown in the last few months he really shouldn't be surprised.
If you deny this boy, turn from it, look away and let it continue then she will come for you too. She will taint you and it will be you I visit at this tree from time to time. The man said, his voice now coming from in front of Indra. Annoyed, Indra turned on him and walked up, pointing a finger, Shut up. You're nothing, just a figment of my subconscious, feeding me my fears and doubts in a strange little artful package.
The old man chuckled.
What?
I find the implication that I'm both a part of you and nothing to be...amusing.
Indra growled, anger feeding him and causing him to act without thinking. He raised a fist to strike the man and immediately all of his strength left him, the wind rushing from his lungs he groaned. His body sagged around the old man's forearm that now protruded from Indra's abdomen. When had that gotten there? Different senses came to him, but hearing was first. What had been mostly silent for the last hour or so was replaced with the sound of thousands of chirping birds. Touch was next, but rather than feel the wound, he first felt the white hot singe of the lightning on his back, the old man's hand protruding from back there. Indra placed a weak hand on the old man's forearm, who regarded him with disappointment.
Shame, I thought you might be the one. The old man said, though Indra found it hard to focus on his words. How did this hurt so much? It was only a dream. Wake up. WAKE UP! He screamed silently.
I fear though, you will merely succumb as she did. You come from a long line, a blessed line of fighters and warriors who never would have blinked in the face of adversity. Yet here you are, defending an illness to you and your people in the form of a parent. You're still weak, but there is hope, no matter how faint the glimmer may be.

The man shook his arm, allowing Indra to slide off of it and crumple to the floor. He looked down upon the boy, his crow...no, his raven Indra realized now, looking down as well. The bird's head cocked to the side studying him.
Regardless of the uncertainty in my heart, you have worked hard and earned the Raidengan in its complete form...at least this version of it. I will bless you with its power and only hope that I am wrong in what I foresee.
The man regarded Indra once more, seemingly searching for something, but not finding it. He sighed and raised his hand, preparing to snap his fingers. Indra coughed out blood, hot, sticky blood.
Yo-you're w-wrong. He got out on shaky breath. The man smiled softly, a strange juxtaposition considering what he had just done to the boy.
Perhaps boy, perhaps I am. Though it's so rare these days. With that, the man snapped and a bright bolt of lightning exploded around Indra. For a moment he believed he was being singed alive, flesh crisped and organs melted. He screamed, but nothing came out as the white hot light completely consumed him. It flooded into his open mouth, moving more like water, and filled his being until the world went completely dark.


---- Dream Sequence End...? ----

Indra woke with a gasp, clutching his chest where the old man had impaled him but finding nothing wrong. He was now soaked in sweat, though, feeling his forehead he found the fever must have broken in his sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily as he got his bearings and convinced himself he was awake. He was in his bed, in his house, in his reality and not flying high above the clouds around a city sized tree and being stabbed by an old man's lightning hand. He fell back into the bed, sprawling out and studying the ceiling to focus his mind as he considered the insanity of that dream. It was only as he got up to get a glass of water from the bathroom and saw his activated, now stage three Raidengan that his sweating began again...though this time completely unrelated to the earlier fever.

Words: 3652/3600

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Indra T. Erlang:


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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime13th July 2021, 3:31 pm

Approved: No solo training for 7 days

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime27th July 2021, 2:24 pm

Jutsu Being Trained:

Indra stirred the milk in his bowl while his parents ate in silence. There wasn't much to say, he and his father had both been left in the dark about his mother's whereabouts over the last few months and any questions pertaining to what she was doing were met with firm dismissal. As such, his father had simply given up and Indra himself had completely withdrawn from his mother. So, His mother said, breaking the palpable silence amongst the small family. His father's eyes moved from his surgery schedule to his wife for a moment, surprised to hear her talk or maybe just surprised that anyone was bothering to at all. It had become an unwritten rule that the house was silent when all three were up. To his credit, Indra didn't even bother to look at his mother, knowing that's what she wanted and not willing to give her the satisfaction. It has been three weeks since we've trained together Indra. Twice now I've requested your presence at the training grounds and twice now you've disappointed me. As you know, I do not do well with disappointment. Indra gripped his spoon so tightly, the head began to bend back from the pressure of his thumb. This drew the attention of both his parents, but when Indra looked up at his mother, he was smiling. Then he was chuckling and for the briefest of moments his parents shared their first parenting style look in several months. Disappointed, huh? Yeah I bet you know something about that. Indra said through his chuckle.
If you have something to say, I'd hear it child. His mother countered, her eyes narrowing.
Indra shook his head, No, you're not worth it anymore. You lost that privilege. He dropped the now bent spoon into his remaining milk and stood from his chair, turning to leave.
You will NOT talk to me like that in MY house. His mother said from behind as Indra began to walk away. Still facing away from her, he said, Your house? How is this your house anymore? You're never here to stake a claim in it. This hasn't been your house and I haven't been your son in months.
Son- His father began, but his mother held out a warding hand to stop him.
No, he obviously has something to say. Let him speak.
I've accomplished more without you in these past few months than I ever did training with you. Indra said, now turning to face his mother, his hands balled into fists to contain his anger.
Now you wander back into the house at strange hours of the night and day, completely unannounced after days or even weeks of no contact and you expect, each and every time for things to just continue as normal. I don't know where you go, father doesn't know where you go and every time you claim to be on a mission, I started checking mission records at the village office. THEY don't know where you go because it's not on missions.

Out of the corner of his eye, Indra could see his father's eyes go wide at this revelation, the gears in the quiet but intelligent surgeon turning now.
Very well, and what do you want out of this? His mother asked coldly, a nerve having been prodded and poked now.
What do I want? I want you to leave me, to leave us alone. You clearly don't want us, don't value us anymore. We're just two people to keep the house clean and tidy for you, keep a light on and the walls warm. You can pay someone else to do that without dragging them around and making them think you give a damn. Our training is through, I'm done with it and done with you. You've taught me all there is to learn from you and the funny thing is, the most important lessons you weren't even around to teach yourself. How sad. Indra said with a sad smirk and shake of his head, this time turning to truly leave the house while a stunned silence painted the kitchen. He reached for the door knob as his mother's voice spoke from behind.
Fine then, prove it. Her chair scraped along the floor and she rose to fetch her gear from the corner.
Prove what? Indra asked, annoyed that she had stopped him again.
Prove that you don't need me to teach you anything more. Show me all this growth and skill you have acquired in my absence. If you wish to speak like a man, prove to me that you've earned the right to do so. His mother said as she strapped on her side sword and headed towards the door Indra now stood in front of. He narrowed his eyes as she approached, realizing and mulling over the idea that she had just challenged him to a spar, but that it would be so much more than just that.
Fine then, He said, opening the door for her, after you.

--- Training Grounds - 1 Hour Later ---

Sparks flew as steel clashed with steel where the two swords met. The anger of each wielder manifested in their blades. Indra and his mother disengaged once more, each studying the other. They had only just begun this fight, this contest of rivalries, of family, of mother and son. Each poked and prodded the other with their blades, studying, analyzing and understanding their opponent before beginning to actually attempt a true strike. This was the first and most important part of a weapons-based dual, learn your opponent. Study their stance and their fighting styles, look for sides they favor more than the other and understand their timing. This first part of a bout isn't about trying to actually land a hit, but testing their reflexes and timing. Then,  when you feel you've gained all that you can from watching them, you strike for good.
Indeed, it seems you have improved some. His mother chided as the two circled one another. Perhaps a few new tricks and your skills, your reflexes even, seem sharper than I last remember. Indra heard her words, but didn't care to listen. They meant nothing to him and would prove to only distract him in his pursuit of a victory over his mother. If this would truly lead to being rid of her, at least in the house, then he was willing to put in everything he had to do so. Beyond that though my dear son, I believe we have already reached the end. I have a good feel for your different stances and counters, as many as there may be, but you have done nothing to show me a true mastery of all these many stances you've trained. Shame really, a jack of all trades and a master of none. We still have so much to go. She said with a tch tch of her tongue against teeth and disappointing head shake. Indeed, Iado seems to be all you have in the way of attacking, so tell me...how do you plan to attack me with your sword drawn? She asked, her own two blades being opened to expose her torso, Come now, show me then. What can you possibly do? Indra gritted his teeth, but obliged, You're overconfident mother and think you know oh so much, but you're blind to everything else. Indra stepped forward, his sword still out and swung with both hands rather than Iado's signature one hand towards his mother. She attempted a block, bringing both swords in front of her to catch his blade and catch it they did. However, what she was not prepared for was the sheer violent strength of the attack, which not only caused her arms to be thrown away, knocking the swords with them and opening her defense, but also caused his mother to skid through the dirt several feet.

Hmm...that's new. She said, mild surprise in her eyes, but Indra wasn't done yet, no, he was far from done. He followed his strike and followed his mother, jumping forward into a now vertical slash with both hands gripping his hilt. At the last moment, rather than block, his mother sidestepped the slash but once again was thrown off balance as his sword sank into the ground where she had been standing. The internal damage then snaked its way through the ground and caused the area around the two to shake in a small, concentrated quake. Indra's mother steadied herself and studied her son, but before being able to speak, Indra said, I call it my Kappa-Ryu Style. It's made for dealing raw damage and destroying defenses as quickly as possible. I created it and learned it myself, with no direction or influence from you. Like I said, I'm stronger without you.
A few new tricks does not a shinobi make. His mother said before lashing out with her own strikes. Indra found himself activating his Raidengan and Kyougan on instinct just to be able to see the fast, flowing movements of his mother's Twin Moon style. It was hard enough countering and blocking a single sword, but the dual weapons made it nearly impossible to read and react without his eyes. Strangely, his mother's barrage of slashes and hacks stopped suddenly and Indra took the moment to disengage, putting some room between the two as he stood back, breathing heavily and waiting for her next assault.
A third stage Raidengan and...is that, no. Surely not. When did you achieve the first stage of your Kyougan? His mother asked and Indra could tell her disbelief was genuine in this moment. His mind raced back to a samurai, dead in the sands outside Kohaigakure. Her blood pooling beneath a large fissure in her neck, glistening crimson in the high sun. He shook his head, not allowing himself to be distracted by those memories, not now. As I told you, I've been training.
No child, THAT is not achieved through training. His mother said, raising her arm and pointing to his Kyougan with the tip of her sword.
What have you done? She said in almost a whisper, her eyes widening with realization as if seeing her son for the first time.
No, you had your chance to be a mother and to show concern and you wasted it. You don't get to try and feign it now. Indra said, rushing her again and trying a new approach, his feet set in a new way as he did. She met his blade with little effort and he could tell this was reflexive for her as she mulled over his words and the appearance of his eyes, Ha! Concern? What concern have you sensed from me? This is not concern child, surprise perhaps, but not concern. To get that eye you have killed and that tells me you didn't fully inherit the soft demeanor of your father and his people. No, you are truly an Erlang then and all hope for you is not lost. Not yet.
Urrraaagh! Indra said, his words now feral and his tone filled with anger and hurt. He stepped forward, slamming his foot into the ground and causing his mother to fall to her knee. This put her in an awkward position to defend herself and rather than raise her swords to defend, forced her to roll out of the way along the ground and come up in a crouch to Indra's left to avoid his follow up slash.

That...was different than the last one. This is a new style as well then? She asked with curiosity, but Indra continued to ignore her. Yes, it was true, this was a new style he made up as well, which combined his Kappa-Ryu Style with Iado. She didn't deserve to know that though and he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of confirming what she already figured out. You fight with such rage, child. It is good to have this fire burning within you, but it is dangerous as well. It exposes you, allows your opponents to use it to their advantage to lead you astray and then strike when you think you have the upper hand. As if to prove her point, his mother ducked another slash and then pressed him, now turning the tides of the battle. Indra blocked and parried feverently, giving up ground but staying on his feet before a sudden slash surprised him but unfortunately turned out to be feint. He reacted to the feint, leaving his side exposed as she slashed at his hip. Indra cried out, his pant leg already beginning to moisten and darken with blood. He dropped back, favoring his right side and placing a hand on the cut to assess the damage. It was mostly superficial, no main blood vessels or arteries hit but with how much movement the skin there would be doing, it'd bleed for sometime and be unable to scab up for awhile.

You hate me, and that's fine. Everyone told me that your children eventually hit an age where they do, but those people also told me that children eventually come back. It's part of the parenting cycle. Unfortunately, I never wanted to be a parent. His mother said, looking in his direction but not at him. She seemed to be staring off into the distance just beyond as she spoke. You see, I had no intention of being sidled with you or your father. You're right, I don't see you as anything more than people to keep my house running while I'm gone. Perhaps I felt pride in you once, but I also feel regret, remorse...disappointment. You are a direct descendent of a literal god Indra, yet no one would ever know it looking at you. She shook her head and Indra only stared at her in horror. Her words stinging more than the cut to his hip that bled freely now. What was she talking about? A god? Was he becoming delirious from blood loss? No, too quick for that to be the case. Regardless, I must concede that you were right. Not about being ready, no certainly not that. There's still so much I could teach you and if this here today truly was a fight for your life...your father would not be a widow. But this is where our paths diverge I've afraid, shame really. Those eyes in particular today gave me hope that you could follow in my footsteps but I sense in you a weakness to powerful to allow you to be a part of what I create next in this world. You will not be the one who rises to challenge our ancestors, our gods, but perhaps the next you I create will be. She said before sheathing her blades. The next Indra she creates? So that was it then, she was officially abandoning her family and leaving them to...to...start a new one? Because they were no longer of any use to her? That was it then, just discarded like trash in the wind.

Indra grit his teeth and yelled, mustering his strength and charging the vessel that had birthed him for that was all she was now. He drew his sword and struck, causing a vacuum of displaced air and loose gravel to rush towards his mother, who's eyes widened at the sudden burst of strength and power her son managed to summon forth with his blade. Her swords sheathed, there was little she could do other than take the hit directly and roll with the pure power of it. She rolled through the dirt, kicking up dirt and dust as she did and for a moment, lay still on her side. Indra, several feet away, hunched over and breathed hard as he supported himself with his hands on his knees. Then, his mother began to move, slowly at first she coughed and propped herself up on an elbow. Then she rose, turning to face him she inspected the torn top she wore, now splattered with blood of her own but rather than a clean cut as hers had been on Indra, this was ragged as if the skin around the wound had been torn and ripped by his wind blade.
Your greatest fear realized, your mother abandoning you and you can't even bring yourself to strike her down? Shame, but the confirmation I needed. Thank you for freeing me of any doubts I may have had Indra.
So that's it then, you're just going to leave? He asked through ragged breaths.
Isn't that what you want?
I- Indra started but paused. I don't know. He thought but instead said, Of course. I want you to prove to me that you're everything I thought you were, just like you said. So go ahead, leave.
My child, my son. There is so much hate in your heart and strength in your bones. Use those, let them fuel one another and you will accomplish great things. You are not ready for the world I am helping create, you were a failed attempt but one I learned so much about. There is still opportunity for you. Fall into this village you seem to love so much for reasons that simply confound me. Fall into it, raise through its ranks, meet a nice young woman or man, fall in love and have simple, average little children. Have the best, most average and mundane life you can, you'll do so great at it and I wish you the best with it. Indra's mouth opened, his mother's words leaving him simply dumbfounded. The worst part was, he could tell that she meant that, all of that as a compliment. As some sort of sick, demented, loving final words to her son before she discarded him.
You're...you're a monster. Indra said finally and she frowned, her head falling to look down for a moment before she looked back up at him and shook it once.
No, no I'm afraid I'm not yet. At that moment, the strength in Indra's hip gave out and he collapsed to the ground. His mother looked at him and smiled faintly, Be well my first, I'm afraid if we should ever meet again, elements out of our control will force me to take your life. For the good of both of us, don't let that happen. With that, his mother turned and left her son bleeding on the training grounds, alone.

Words: 3050/3000

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime27th July 2021, 4:00 pm

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime3rd August 2021, 9:36 am

Training:

Sleep had never come easily to Indra, but these last few days in particular had been exceptionally bad. He tossed and turned, the covers bunched between his legs and sheet wrapped around a foot. No matter what he did or how hard he shut his eyes, his brain simply would not stop working. It had been nearly a week now since his confrontation with his mother and her departure. She had left without a word to his father, not even stopping by the house to grab clothes or anything she might need to stay somewhere. The mission office, predictably had said she hadn't checked in or taken an assignment and as far as Indra or his father could find, she was nowhere to be found and certainly not within the village limits anymore. Indra's father had taken the realization of the situation and thrown himself into his work. He often slept at the hospital these days and was rarely home for a meal of any kind, effectively making Indra an orphan with a house to keep together. A task he had ignored almost entirely as dishes and clothes began to pile up in various corners of the house. Deep within his heart ached after being abandoned by his mother. It hurt so intensely and so uniquely that Indra would have rather been cut down by her than feel this anymore. It was a hollow ache, one that he knew would always be there for the rest of his life. Even if she came back, even if she apologized, the deed was done and she had abandoned them. There was no coming back from that. And then, there was another part of him. A darker part of him that he had been experimenting with, poking and prodding over the last few days but very aware of how dangerous it could be. It was a smoldering anger, maybe even a hatred, for his mother and her actions. It gave him a steady resolve that at times frightened him because he resolved to become stronger as a result. Not because of what his mother had said, not because he felt he needed to prove something to her or some foolish dream that if he showed he could become strong, she'd come back, no not any of that at all. Whether he was fully aware of it or not, Indra had made his peace with his mother's disappearance, or at the very least he had accepted it. Instead, this resolve burned within him and told him he needed to train and get stronger so that he may one day hunt her down and either drag her back to the village or at the very least, get the answers from her that he believed he deserved. That was the dangerous fire that burned within him now. That was, at least partially, what kept him up at night.

Sighing, the genin threw the blankets off himself and twisted in bed to a seated position before rising. He threw a cold-weather cloak over his shoulders and grabbed his tanto by the door before striding out into the crisp morning air. The sun wouldn't rise for some hours yet and it was truly more night than morning. Regardless, this didn't deter Indra as he made his way to the empty training grounds. Not even the early risers would be here at this time, no this was the time for the sleepless and the disturbed. This was Indra's time to train. Unsheathing his sword, he went through the motions, practicing various katas to warm up. Step, swing sheathe. Swing, adjust, uppercut, jab. He practiced running with his sword sheathed, slashing and resheathing, honing his skills with the simple but effective Iado style. From there he moved onto his two new styles, practicing timing and maximizing his raw strength to better slash through his targets. By the end of that practice, not even the armored or reinforced training dummies stood. He felt bad, knowing someone would have to report those and then someone else would have to come out and replace them, but that's what they were there for, right? Training, one way or another. Beyond just his swordsmanship though, he practiced his raw hand to hand capabilities as well. The Tsuyo style of brawling was effective and he was able to knock away training dummies with ease, their stands skidding through the dirt and gravel. Shinken Gai Kata wasn't quite as easy to practice, given that he couldn't paralyze the dummies exactly, but it was still good to practice precision and striking the least protected joints on a body.

Looking back after his early morning training, Indra would realize that there were times during which he somewhat faded in and out of consciousness. He wasn't passing out per say, reality just became blurry at times as he imagined the dummies as his mother, attacking him and striking out. He thought of her swordsmanship, the number of times during their brief scuffle that he had surprised her, caught her off guard. It made him smile, knowing that he could and would eventually defeat her. Then however, there were times that he thought of how easily she had dodged or deflected his advances. She had slashed him and he had been caught completely off guard. Deep down he knew her swordsmanship was of such a level that he couldn't even fully fathom at his current ability. But that was why he trained, that was why he practiced now in the crisp air and deep dark of the morning. He trained to reach that level and to exceed it beyond a reasonable doubt. He trained to prepare himself to fight her again, to not only hold his own, not only surprise her, but to defeat her and to bring her back so she could answer his questions. He would train, he would better himself, he would become a Tokubetsu Jonin and immediately begin the hunt for her outside of the village. No matter what it took he was ready and that smoldering, dark resolve within him burned brighter with each stroke of his sword.

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime3rd August 2021, 7:06 pm

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime8th July 2022, 3:42 pm

Indra walked laps around the training grounds, his muscles barely at work but his brain firing on all cylinders. His various Kenjutsu stances were beginning to clutter his mind a bit and he realized that while he had knowledge of nearly half a dozen styles, that didn't do him any good if he didn't actually use them or learn techniques for them. Two in particular which had been bothering him as of late were the Inugami style, a stance designed for genius. This was something Indra very much so was not and he often wondered why his mother had been so insistent upon him learning it. The other was Kendo, a heavy-hitting two-handed style. It was fairly straightforward and useful in its own right, but frankly Kappa-Ryu and its advanced version, Suiko-Ryu were already well designed for raw strength and breaking things. Kendo as a result seemed obsolete and Inugami simply useless for his specific talents. So, that brings him back to here. Walking the permitter of the training grounds, a single vein popping from his forehead as he tried to understand just what his mother's intentions were with mastering and combining so many different styles.

She hadn't exactly left detailed instructions after leaving him and his father and, most importantly, defecting from the village. That left Indra alone for his training. Ironically, it was something he had wanted for years and the few moments he had achieved it were some of the happiest in his memory. Now though, as he rounded his tenth lap of the training grounds with still no plan, he found a nagging desire for someone to just tell him what to do. For all her faults, her coldness and apparently her deception, his mother had been an effective teacher. Now he was alone and his father hadn't done much more than go to work and go to bed in the last week since her departure. Indra knew his father didn't blame him, after all there was no reason to. His mother's mind had clearly been made up months prior, but something about seeing his son clearly nagged at the Med-Nin and for that, Indra's heart broke and his rage stoked. He closed his eyes as he walked now and replayed some of the training sessions with his mother in his mind. She had focused heavily on offense, different ways to engage and distract the attacker. Kappa-Ryu was about an unexpected movement style and Suiko-Ryu concerned itself with hitting hard and hitting fast. Intercepting sword was great for deflecting incoming kenjutsu, or just strikes in general, but what else did he have defensively?

Indra opened his eyes, a thought brooding at the back of his mind. Kendo was about raw strength, overwhelmingly so even. What if he had a style that allowed him to defend himself by forcing an attack back at the kenjutsu user? He could analyze their movements and style, then find ways to not only intercept their attacks but redirect them and overpower them. He dropped to the ground, legs crossed now, his mind racing as he considered how this would work. After several minutes, he rose again and jogged to the advanced training dummies. These contraptions were considered "advanced" because they contained gears that could be activated with a bit of chakra. Once activated, they would begin gyrating and moving with movements similar to whatever sort of weapon they were designed to hold. There were some with shields, others with spears, and other various weapon types found around the continent. Indra however picked the most common, that being the sword training dummy. He placed his hand on the back of the dummy and willed chakra into the thing, then stepped back and watched it come to life. Metal groaned, limbs jerked and the creature began twisting unnaturally before settling into its programmed path. He stepped back further now, watching it turn and twist, slash and stab. He studied its movements for a long few minutes before unsheathing his own sword and stepping forward.

This is probably a really stupid idea. Indra said with a sigh before watching the puppet's blade swing down towards his right shoulder. He caught the blade with his own, small sparks popping from between the steel before the dummy's blade slid off, winding up now for a follow up horizontal slash. Indra shifted his grip, dropping his sword so the tip faced the dirt and catching this as well. He continued this practice for awhile, watching and catching the blade each time, not yet ready to push harder into anything else. He wanted to get a rhythm established first. This was where the Inugami style came into play, studying and reading his opponent before responding. Brute strength was only so useful, if you didn't know where to direct it then what good were you really? Finally, he grit his teeth and made his move. As the puppet stabbed forward, Indra not only moved his blade to deflect, but continue the sweeping action so as to redirect it. The difference between a deflection and a redirection would be determined by Indra's ability to control where his opponent's blade went. A deflection meant that he just managed to avoid being stabbed, but a redirection could mean he just avoided being stabbed by stabbing someone else with their friend's attack. True to form and expectations, his own blade shoved the dummy's far to the left in such a way that if someone had been standing beside the dummy, they'd have a deep, fresh cut in their abdomen.

The creature's gears whirred and groaned as it tried to correct itself, its program now seriously impacted compared to the simple deflections Indra had been practicing before. Finally, it managed to gather itself and return to its solo dance. Meanwhile, Indra took a step back and thought about what he had done in each moment to achieve the effect. He could feel the puppet's blade slipping towards the end and just as easily could have gone over the edge with his own blade, thus stumbling forward and into the creature's sword. Goring himself while trying to redirect an attack would not only be painful, but embarrassing. He needed to be careful here, not only for that reason but to understand if this idea was more than just a flashy deflection. Was the risk worth the reward, or was this going to be something very situational that really shouldn't be used in actual combat? He shook his head and stepped back into the danger zone to find out. The attack came and again Indra deflected it but shoved it as well, putting force behind his blade and trying to carry it in the direction he want. He once again felt the dummy's blade slipping as the mechanical creature tried to regain control, so Indra had to disengage. Twice more this happened, each attack from the dummy different and each deflection from Indra accounting for this. Again and again, the two went at it, with one attacking and the other trying to...what? What exactly was Indra trying to do? He was deflecting, but that wasn't his goal. He was trying to redirect, to fire back, to harm the dummy with its own attack.

That was it. Indra jumped back, disengaging and doubled over with his hands on his knees. Sweat trickled down the side of his face and across his forehead. It dripped into his eyes, a slight salty sting greeting him as he breathed hard to catch his breath. This was a defensive stance, there was no doubt about that for him now, but he needed to act in an offensive manner. He was too worried about protecting himself when the dummy attack. Protecting himself was just a bonus for the true goal of this stance, which was to hurt the attacker with his own move. Indra needed to stop protecting himself and start attacking the dummy, or more specifically, attack the dummy's own attack. He tightened his grip on the sword and stepped back into the ring. This time, when the dummy's sword lashed out to sever Indra in two, the boy didn't simply deflect the blade, he didn't even try to push it away from himself with a redirection. No, this time, Indra leaned into the attack with one of his own. He swung with unexpected strength for a child so young and caught the dummy's blade mid-arc with his own. Without missing a beat, he pushed harder and the dummy's blade was bent back behind the force of his, pushing the dulled side towards the dummy's own chest. Indra stepped back, proud of his results but not wanting to damage the thing.

Yes, that was it, that had worked. A defensive kenjutsu style that relied on offense to protect. Now that, that was interesting. He stood now alone, gripping his sword and staring down at the blade that he had practiced with for as long as he could remember. For some reason, his mind drifted back to his mother, to what she would say, to what she would think of his accomplishment this day. His heavy breathing turned to a resigned frown and then simply a blank look of determination and apathy.
He wasn't done.
He wasn't even close to done.
She wouldn't have let him be.
With renewed determination and a resigned grit, Indra straightened his back and returned to the sword spinning puppet. This time he would show it true pain. He would cut it in half with its own blade and prove to her- to it- that he was a force to be reckoned with.
Hrrraaaah! The training grounds echoed with his cry as the sun began to set over the horizon.

Words: 1612/1600

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PostSubject: Re: Memories (Solo Training)   Memories (Solo Training) Icon_minitime22nd July 2022, 2:05 pm

It was a quiet day for Indra today. Outside, raindrops pelted the glass window of his bedroom and though he had trained in the rain plenty of times in his life, he saw no reason to continue the tradition today. Instead, he settled into his bed with a book propped up on his knees. This was a new story, telling of a world of fire and he was looking forward to starting it. Taking a sip of the cooling tea on his nightstand, Indra popped open the first page and began to read.

--------Book---------

Branches and thorns pulled at Farrus’s flesh, his path forward made easier only by the wake of his eldest sister’s body as she plowed ahead. He carried only his shield now, his spear having been dropped during the fray, though he couldn’t be sure when. Everything had happened so fast. Though it weighed him down terribly, he didn’t dare drop the shield. It had already saved his life twice today and trouble tended to come in threes. Farrus dared not turn around, for fear of losing his footing, but did his best to count the different breaths behind him. He thought he heard four, prayed really, but couldn’t be positive.
“Fen, where are we going?” Forgrus asked from behind and Farrus made a mental count of one. Ahead of him, his eldest sister said nothing in response.
“Fendra.” Forgrus said again.
“Away.” Fendra hissed in response, turning to direct her venom. “The day is lost, the fight is over. We stay and we’re slaughtered.” For the first time since the battle had started, Fendra looked tired. There was a dullness in her eyes now, exhaustion that seemed to transcend simple physical limits. Farrus frowned, doubt beginning to snake its way down his spine.
“There are caves up ahead. I saw them on Barlow’s map before the battle. We can wait out the search parties and begin the march home once the Saurlites have left.” Fendra added.
“As good a plan as I’ve heard,” Fylest said from just behind Farrus and he counted off two on his spear hand. They ran for several more minutes in silence. The ache in Farrus’s joints had now become a throbbing, constant pain. The steady hum of breathing only became more labored as the ground pitched into an incline. Eventually, they were no longer running, but climbing and scrambling over loose rock.
“I don’t mean to complain Fendra, but you’re positive this is the direction of the caves?” Forrian asked from the back of the line. Three now.
“We’re here,” Fendra said, almost a whisper. Panting now, Farrus stepped around his sister to see the mouth of a nondescript cave. A simple opening, maybe wide enough for a wagon and a half to enter. Moss clung to the sides and sporadic greenery attempted to grow along the lifeless stone. Farrus dropped to the ground without a word, his arms wrapped around his legs while he sucked in air. He looked around for his other siblings and found each of them in similar positions. With the faintest of smiles, Farrus raised a fourth finger. They had all made it.
Bloodied, bruised, and broken, but alive.
“I hate to ruin,” Forrian started between breaths, “this beautiful moment of rest, but…” He trailed off, pointing down the incline. Farrus followed and his eyes grew wide as he noticed a group of nearly twenty Saurlites emerge from the thick jungle brush below and begin climbing the rocky shale incline he and his siblings had just traversed.
“How?” His sister Fylest asked.
“No time for that. Everyone, into the cave.” Fendra ordered. Though his body begged him not to, Farrus rose to his feet and followed his eldest sister into the depths of the earth. A torch was lit and passed to the front. Fendra took it in her off-hand, refusing to forgo her spear. The siblings walked in silence and Farrus listened carefully for any sign of the Saurlites entering the cave. The air became cold, crisp even, and though it felt good in Farrus’s lungs, it also chilled him to his bone. There was something unnatural about being this far down, beneath hundreds of feet of crushing stone and dirt. Farrus realized that without the torch, there was no form of light whatsoever. He tried to keep track of every turn and fork in the path that they took, but after nearly a dozen choices, it became impossible. Quickly, Farrus realized that the thought of dying slowly, lost in these caves frightened him more than the Saurlites tracking them.


-------------Reality---------------

Indra? His father's voice called from the kitchen, Could I see you a moment, please? Indra sighed, but closed his book and swung his legs out from the covers. I'll be right there. Man, it was just getting good, too. He shuffled his feet to the door and went in search of what his father wanted.

Words: 808/800

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