Memories (Solo Training)

Approved

Jutsu Being Trained:

Back to the training grounds once more, Indra sighed as he stepped onto the hallowed ground. They were nothing more than a dusty ring, some old, decrepit stadium seating for any senseis who wanted to observe their students, and some clock-work training dummies. There was a running track that circled the entire place and Indra decided to warm up with a light jog, taking off at C-rank speeds, he maintained an even pace. It felt good to stretch his legs on a hard, even surface. His muscles still ached from trecking through the uneven, twisting sand dunes out in the Cactus Forest. The mission the other day had been...interesting to say the least. The creatures had been of little issue, but the appearance of those two strangers still bothered him. It was no secret there were bandits, missing-nin, and even unscrupulous mercenaries willing to take any form of job. Datara below he had already signed up for another mission tomorrow that involved weeding out some bandits from the surrounding Mahougakure area, but these two seemed...different. They were unnervingly calm and worst of all, seemingly reasonable and level-headed.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he completed his second circuit around the track and came to a slowed walk, breathing hard. Indra made his way towards the training dummies now, slighting unsheathing and sheathing his sword repeatedly, the repetitive motion and sound helping him think. He was here today to train a new Kenjutsu style his mother had left behind in some old, discarded scrolls, not to dwell on the appearance of more threats and the upsurge in violence around the Republic. He didn't even know if this kenjutsu style was something his mother had planned on teaching him or had been part of some discarded plans long ago. He and his father had taken to the solemn task of cleaning out her office area, donating or disposing of most of it. The two hadn't spoken much during, or even before. It was simply something they both know had to be done if they were ever going to begin the long trail to some sort of closure.

Indra didn't miss the fact that there was a chance those two from the desert would know something about his mother, her whereabouts, and the plan of the Denkou group that had splintered off from the Republic. Surely a group of the same clan that large wouldn't go unnoticed, even out in whatever underworld existed beyond the Republic. Indra sighed and began his stretches, running through the exact movements that had been outlined on the training scroll. Ready now, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and began practicing. Unfortunately, what this stance required to practice was simply waiting. The chakra-fueled clockwork dummy spun and whirled, flailing in the air as Indra waited...and waited. He studied the creature, watching its movements and then, without warning, struck forward. The movements of this style, known as Dance of the Photosphere, relied more on stabbing motions than some of his other Kenjutsu styles that were more of the slashing variety.

It felt strange but also nice to mix up his stance and grip work. He had such little training with stabbing styles, that the first time the dummy came in contact with his sword, it surprised him by ripping it from his grip. The sword clattered to the dusty floor and Indra frowned, but mentally ran through what he had done wrong and where he needed to adjust his grip. Then he began again. The sun was setting and sweat pooled at his feet by the time he felt he had mastered the style enough to consider using it in actual combat.

Words: 620/600
Combat Specialization has 2 A-ranks & 1 B-rank, now down to 1 A-rank & 1 B-rank or 2 C-ranks

Approved

With his missions complete, the next step in Indra's life was attempting the Tokubetsu Jonin exams. The very thought of even going in there made his stomach twist with nerves. He knew he was prepared, or close anyway, but the failure during the Chunin exams over a year ago gave him pause. He was different now, far different. He had entered the Chunin exams equipped with nothing more than a budding Raidengan and some kenjutsu theory. His mother had assumed that would be enough, that Indra would just figure it out and make it through, but of course, it hadn't been. He should have waited for the next one, but instead he had been thrown to the wolves and the results had made that all too obvious. In hindsight, that was probably a large contributing factor as to why his mother pushed him so hard in the last year or so with training. She had gone above and beyond what was already back breaking work before the exams and he assumed it had been a punishment. She was disgusted by him and his failure but in reality, he was starting to realize that she had been disgusted not by his failure, but by hers. With her gone now, he had no way of knowing if that was accurate. Perhaps she really had been disgusted by him and viewed him as a failure, but something nagged at the back of his mind as he reflected on those days, weeks, even months of brutal training. Her words and their meanings seemed different now somehow, like they carried a hidden weight not intended for him. He sighed and leaned back into the grass of the training field. Grass in this desert landscape was rare, but this was highly drought tolerant. Which, unfortunately, made for a mess of itchy, scratchy dried grass rather than a soft bed. However, he had grown used to it over the years and no longer really noticed.

What'cha doin boss? A small salamander asked, climbing onto his chest. Indra opened his eyes and craned his neck to look. When had she? Oh, that was right. He had summoned her to do some training after their spar with lady Seiko and had honestly forgotten she was here. Indra had become lost in his own thoughts and the little salamander had wandered off to explore the training grounds.
Nothing. Thinking mostly.
Hrmm, that's no good. That kind of thing can be dangerous. Durga said with a bit of a pout. She cared for Indra in her own, strange way.
Oh yeah? I suppose so. He said with a chuckle.
You thinking about lady Seiko and that butt whoopin she handed you? Durga asked, curling up on his chest like a cat and basking in the mid-day sun.
I wasn't, but thank you for reminding me. Indra said with a slightly annoyed frown.
Oh, don't worry about it. She whooped you good, but she also praised you a bit afterwards and I thought it sounded pretty sincere.
You weren't even there at that point. I desummoned you to save your scaly butt, remember?
I know, but then you told me about what she said later and I really think she was sincere. She's S-rank, remember boss? You're just a lowly Genin, so the fact that she stepped in at one point instead of one of her machines...that's pretty neat.

Indra sat up, though Durga managed to cling to his shirt perfectly fine and stay in place. She had a point, Seiko did seem sincere when she was praising his fighting accomplishments. She had even expressed faith in him that he would pass his exams without issue, so why was he the only one that felt a pause going into this? If he failed the Tokubetsu Jonin exams, he would be relegated to a forever Genin. Completely useless and an abject failure in the eyes of his mother. He shook his head, why should he care about what she thought? He'd be a failure in his own eyes, that's all that mattered. His missions had gone well, Sid and he had handled everything from beasts to bandits, and even those strange missing-nin that seemed to be appearing all over the Republic. The second time they had reported a sighting, the Republic officials seemed far more concerned than the first. Initially, they had been written off as some missing-nin that had defected sometime during the madness of the bijuu attacks, but with two sightings in two different areas, Indra could tell the powers that be were taking things a bit more seriously now. It worried him a bit for the next disaster that might strike, but it also made him realize how imperative it was that he pass these exams and become stronger. For the sake of the village, for the sake of the entire Republic, and even just for his own sake. He had his own goals to accomplish and he would find her and make her answer each and every one  of his questions.

Right now, his best lead was interrogating these strange missing-nin that kept cropping up. He had no idea if his mother had fallen in league with them or if the Denkou defectors had formed their own little ragtag team of missing-ninja, but he had a feeling someone in these houses would at least be aware of a large group of defecting Denkou. Surely there was some sort of underworld out there where they interacted and kept track of one another. He'd just have to start digging once he was of a rank that allowed him to come and go from the Republic as he pleased. Being a simple genin meant he was trapped within the village limits unless traveling to and fro one of them. It was safe, but it was also pointless considering the problems that were bubbling up outside of the village. Indra stood and retrieved his sword from the itching grass, strapping it to his waist once more. Come on, Durga. We have work to do.

Words: 1000/1000 (ooh look at that, right on the money)

Spec Training:

Indra was met with a nice treat this morning at breakfast. Though he and his father still hadn't spoken much, though the weeks were now passing by since his mother's departure at an alarming rate, the old man had apparently taken an interest in Indra's continued training and preparation for the Tokubetsu Jonin exams. Along with a recently prepared, hot breakfast, was a bundled scroll from the Taki clan's technique list. Indra popped the seal and gave it a quick scan, finding diagrams and explanations on how some of the more advanced Tusyo Style: Brawling techniques worked. Though he hadn't been planning on picking up much more in that line, the fact that his father was trying to make an effort to connect with his son and show that he cared was more than enough to inspire Indra to hit the training grounds with an extra pep in his step today.

So that's where he was as he studied the scroll with a bit more detail. Each of the techniques listed seemed to continuously mention something about a Heavenly Leap or Heaven's Leap, though such a technique wasn't mentioned anywhere on the scroll. Regardless, the techniques his father had detailed and left for him were plenty useful without this mystery add-on. Though his father had no way of knowing about the events of his spar with Seiko and her machine, Indra was quite amused that both of these given techniques listed ways to damage enemies who were underground or traveling through subterranean methods. Indra had reflected on every facet of that spar in excruciating mental detail and one aspect he kept coming back to was when the hulking monstrosity that was Sir Tristan simply melded with and disappeared into the ground. He was able to appear wherever he liked and there was quite literally nothing Indra could have done to stop him. With these techniques however, he might have a fighting chance next time, or at least make Seiko pause before sending her attack bots underground.

The first technique in it of itself was interesting simply because it was one that involved the use of his legs. As a kenjutsu specialist, he certainly focused more on his upper body than his lower body. This however would give him an edge that others didn't expect. After all, most kenjutsu users only use their legs for positioning or different stances, rarely do they attack with them as well. Yes, this would be extremely helpful in his upcoming exams.

Words: 414/400

Jutsu Learned:

Approved

Over the last few missions, Indra had noticed that the Raidengan has a natural ability to activate electrolocation. It was handy but so broad and unguided that it created unnatural limits for the user. So today, Indra was going to practice activating the electrolocation abilities and seeing if he could harness them, or refine them to a level that was actually practical. Standing in the center of the training area, the young boy closed his eyes and focused, activating his Raidengan, but leaving his Kyougan inactivated for the time being. It was a strange feeling, one he hadn't experienced in a long time. Having just one eye active rather than both hadn't happened since...he honestly couldn't remember. It was simple nature to activate them both at the same time, rarely there was a point to not. Today however was purposeful. He sent out a pulse of lightning chakra and moments later it returned with feedback. In no surprise to Indra, the pulse had mapped out the area surrounding him, giving him an outline of everything it touched that had an electromagnetic signature. Which, luckily for Indra, was most things. He couldn't make out refined details, but the shapes and forms were well defined enough to be of great use should he find himself in complete darkness or some other issue with being able to see properly. This was his usual capability with the Raidengan, now it was time to hone it and refine it. He pulsed again, this time focusing on the outstretching of chakra and having more control when it pulsed outward and how far it went. After several more tries, he felt he had the hang of it and deactivated his Raidengan. With a satisfied smile on his lips, he headed for the exit to the training grounds. This new technique, while minor, could be a real life saver during the exams if anyone tried to pull something sneaky.

Words: 321/300

Jutsu:

Approved

This was it, the day before the exams. Indra felt a torrent of emotions washing over him that he couldn't quite understand. Excitement of course, which made his skin seem itch with anticipation. Then came the gnawing dread of uncertainty and doubt that snaked its way up his spine and seemed to infect his mind. Was he actually ready for this? He failed during the chunin exams. If he failed here as well...then what? Was that it? His career over and he'd relegate himself to an eternal genin. He shook his head, dispelling such thoughts. They were of no use and wouldn't do him any good, though he did ache to train. However, he knew better than to risk injury or incident the day before the exam. Even something as minor as a sprained ankle would put him at a severe disadvantage with the other competitors and that wasn't something he was willing to risk. So instead, he spent the day preparing and checking over his equipment. He made sure his bandages were ready to go, the pills Miss Seiko had gifted him tucked away in his clothes for tomorrow.

He sat now, outside on the back patio steps of his home and sharpened his blades. Next he'd need to oil them and leave them to dry before sealing one away and keeping the other strapped to his hip. It was always useful to have a trick up the sleeve, this one just happened to be literal. He smiled, looking at the Lightning Blade Flash Creation seal on the inside of his wrist guards. Yes, that would be a nice surprise for anyone focused on the obvious sword at his hip. Indra leaned back and sighed, taking a break from the sharpening of his blade. He closed his eyes and ran through the information he had. Three opponents, three fights. His first would be someone skilled in the same type of combat as he was, which he was looking forward to. He was confident kenjutsu was perfect for him and anyone also focusing on it wouldn't be much of a problem. From there though, things became far less certain. The next opponent would be similar, but would have one of his three selections swapped out for just about anything else. Then, the last opponent was the most intimidating. Only one of their technique types would match Indra's, meaning they could be basically any style of combatant under the sun.

His thoughts drifted from him now, no matter how much he tried to reel them back in and her face appeared in behind his closed eyes. She had trained him all his life for a moment like this. Then, when it came during the chunin exams he had been an utter disappointment. Granted, Indra and his father had both warned her that he wasn't ready and that this would only end in failure, but she wouldn't hear of it. Any son of hers was ready when she deemed fit, she had said. Then, lo and behold he had failed and now he was in this predicament. A Tokubetsu Jonin. There was no shame in that, none whatsoever. In fact, it would lead to possibly more covert operations and tagging along on more dangerous missions that a simple Chunin would be given leave to do. That would be extremely beneficial for not only Indra's own training and learning, but with helping Miss Seiko collect her samples as well. Though he didn't want his mother anywhere near him right now, the thought that she'd miss this exam, miss watching her own son achieve the next step she had so meticulously planned and set him on the path towards was...disheartening to say the least. He'd never admit it out loud, not even silently to himself, but the idea that she wouldn't be there was absolutely crushing.

It didn't matter though. She had made her choice and he didn't need her. The best way to prove that she had made a mistake would be to get stronger and then hunt her down himself. Then she'd answer for what she did, explain why she left and it'd be at his hand, no one else's. The thought somehow brought him peace, easing his agitated mind. Passing was no longer about him, it was about her. It was about proving a point, proving she was wrong when she left, when she gave up to him. Indra would not only prove he was worthy of his mother's attention, but he'd surpass her and prove that she should be the one groveling for his. No matter how long it took, no matter what it took, he would prevail. He would rise above whatever pathetic excuse for a creature his mother thought of him and show her just how dangerous it was to be wrong.

Words: 802/800

Jutsu:

Approved

It was a new day and Indra was feeling some type of way. He breathed deeply, letting the cool morning air sting the back of his throat and fill his lungs. Though he was never in any real danger, the young man felt lucky to be alive and appreciative for the life he had. The Tokubetsu Jonin exams were just three days past now and by this point he felt fully recovered. Waking up that first day had been interesting, it felt almost like everything the previous day had been a dream really. Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, the bruises, aches, and pains quickly reminded him that the exams had in no way, shape, or form been a dream. He had done it. He had passed the exams and now was among those known as true shinobi. Genin was one thing, it was a serviceable rank that allowed him to learn and get a handle on his various fighting styles and abilities, but now the true tests began. Higher-level missions, far more dangerous and deadly than anything he had experienced thus far would be coming in regularly. He was now allowed free range of the lands encompassing the republic, rather than being restricted to the areas directly around the various hidden villages. With special permission, he was even allowed leave of the Republic Lands and could venture out further than he had ever been. What lay beyond the limits of the Republic was a complete mystery to him, but he had heard rumors and tales of extreme dangers, ruins, and even treasures. Though, Indra wasn't foolish enough to be goaded in by something as ridiculous as treasure.

Indra stretched before taking a seat on the soft sands of the training grounds and fishing the scroll from his back pocket. He regarded the note still attached to it with a faint smile, remembering it waiting for him on the kitchen table that first morning after the exams. His father's chicken scratch writing had been minimal but meant a lot. Congratulations, my son. It had read and Indra made a point to remove it delicately before placing it safely within his new Kohaigakure flack jacket. He'd be keeping that with him for a while yet. Carefully, he unfurled the scroll and began looking through its contents. He had expressed interest in the Ai Branch of the Taki clan to his father what felt like a lifetime ago, but was really just a few short months back. His father had explained that he'd need to wait until he passed his exams before the Taki clan deemed him worthy enough to learn the teachings of a second branch. Well, his father had wasted no time it seemed and Indra began pouring over the scroll in earnest. This was the bread and butter of the Taki Clan, the style known the world over and what had given rise to the Taki Clan being seen as some of the greatest medics in the entire Republic.

However, unfortunately for the Republic and any of his future opponents, Indra had little interest in the healing properties of the Ai Style. His biggest draw was the chakra scalpel technique and its further applications. Granted, there were some real handy techniques other than that, but the more advanced healing techniques were nothing he'd ever really dabble in. He was a soldier, not a medic, but that didn't mean he couldn't sit down for a lesson or two with his medic side and throw a few things into his arsenal. Defense bypassing spiritual damage, now there was something he could really make some use of.

Words: 602/600

Jutsu:

Haaaaaaa! Indra roared as he shoved a boulder at least five times his size through the clawing dunes of the sand. Sweat pooled at his feet like a puddle, leaving a trail of darker sand in his wake. Between the baking hot son and the extreme amount of effort, Indra was nearing his limits of dehydration. Even growing up in such a climate and adapting to some degree, this was still becoming a bit much for him. His strength training was coming along nicely and he was nearing the limits of a regular Tsuyo Branch member in terms of his chakra-enhanced strength. Once this training was done, he'd need far more advanced techniques to reach the true pinnacle of power. For now though, as a new Tokubetsu Jonin, S-rank strength would get him by just fine should he need it at any point. With one final shove, the boulder slid through the sand and smacked into the side of the training arena. Indra heaved over, supporting himself with his hands on his knees as his chest rose and fell to an alarming degree. It felt as if it was raining, the amount of water cascading down the sides of his cheek now becoming somewhat of a concern. He wandered back towards the shade, where he had left his things and most importantly, a large canteen of water. Each step was stiff and even somewhat painful, but he was proud of what he had accomplished here today. Collapsing into the shaded stands, Indra popped the cap off of his canteen and began to chug, mouthfuls of cool spring water coursing through his system and beginning to rejuvenate him even now. For good measure, he removed his shirt and poured a bit of water over his head and back, a trick his father had taught him to help those who were dehydrated in the heat of the desert. Unfortunately, it was a very common event out here and it often made Indra wonder who had the genius to build a major hidden village in the middle of a desert. Still, thinking about it, those who suffered from heat stroke the most were usually visitors and outsiders. The people of Kohaigakure had had generations to adapt and be aware of the place they lived.

With a heavy sigh showcasing the beginning of fatigue settling in, Indra leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, embracing the cool shade and letting his body attempt to switch over to a more resting rhythm. He wasn't ready to return home yet for the day. His father had been around more and had started to make an actual effort to interact with his son again, the pain of his wife leaving clearly beginning to recede. Still, the house was awkward and not entirely comfortable to be in. Besides, his father had taken up another late shift so it'd just be Indra for the night yet again. Not much point in returning to an empty house for the third time this week. Initially, his father's new habit of overworking had worried Indra, but taking a look in the mirror at himself and the excess of training he had thrown himself into making him a hypocrite to worry. They dealt with the event in their own way, but it wasn't lost on Indra the irony of just how similar they both were. So, the boy settled in and plucked a book from his pack. It was a non-fiction, historical novel written about true events of the Republic's past, but in a dramatized way to make it more enticing and interesting for readers. This particular one detailed the rise of the Shogunate in a land Indra had only ever heard of, but never actually met anyone from. Evidently, his roots could be traced back to a certain Cyrus Taki, someone he was in the direct lineage of through his father. As much as his mother carried herself with an air of confidence and holier than thou-ness, ironically it was his father who had a direct connection to a god. In fact, it was this Cyrus Taki who had allied the Taki and, at the time Mishura, clans. It started a long history of not only friendship but interbreeding as well.

Thus far, it had been a fascinating account of Cyrus's travels from the Western Continent through the wild lands of the east in search of the Mishura Clan. At the time, they were nomads, living a hard but free life out in the Land of Madness. War was brewing between the Shogunate and what was known as the Allied Shinobi Council at the time. So, Cyrus had taken it upon himself to seek out the Mishura and any other clans he could rally to his cause. It was a hard and dangerous road, but, even though he hadn't quite made it to the point in the book yet, Indra knew it had clearly been successful. He met the leader of the Mishura, a woman named Ashura Mishura and, as the history books tell it, the two fell deeply in love. Though, depending on which historian one spoke to, it may have been more a match made through the necessity of Ashura's sudden pregnancy and a strengthening of the clan accords than real love. For as time went on, the two seemed to distance themselves considerably. Still, it was more fun to envision them as a power couple who took on the world. History was important, but only as important as how the present interpreted it. So, cracking open his book, Indra found the page he had dog-eared and got back to work. A warm breeze blew through the training grounds and Indra found himself at peace for the first time in a long time. He had done it. Passed the exams and now the world was opening up for him. Perhaps someday he could live up to his namesake in Cyrus Taki and more importantly, the man's ascended daughter. That was a tale for another time though.

Words: 1006/1000

Tech:

Both approved

Well it was back to the training grounds for Indra. The exam proctor had mentioned someone reaching out a few days after the exam for mission briefing and various other information sessions to get Indra up to speed on his new responsibilities, but thus far it had been quiet. Initially, it had been frustrating, considering the young man was ripping to get started. After all, he hadn't worked as hard as he did to just sit around after passing the exams. After some more time to cool off and really think about his position though, Indra realized that maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world for him to be sidelined for a bit before things really kicked off. After all, he was entering a whole new world of trouble and danger. Tokubetsu Jonin jobs ranged from simple policing and village border patrol to assisting Hunter-Nin in taking down actual Missing-Nin, some of the most dangerous shinobi in the world. If he wasn't ready for something like that, not only would he endanger himself, but potentially his allies as well. After all, his title may say Tokubetsu Jonin now, but he still had the skills of a Genin and that was something he'd need to work on immediately. Fortunately for Indra, and the entire Republic as he saw it, training was not something new or foreign to the boy. He was a master at training, particularly alone and incredibly, took quite a bit of joy in doing so.

So back he was at the training grounds, taking them in in all their splendor. Truly no one his age appreciated the training grounds as much as he did. Most saw them as a dusty old arena with a hodgepodge of new and aging equipment for shinobi to train with. It was mostly the younger generation that trained here, rarely Jonin or higher would show up unless it was to observe or help their students. As people grew older and advanced in their shinobi careers, it seemed they wanted to show what they were capable of less and less. It was rumored, if not well known, that many clans had separate, private training grounds for those shinobi of high enough rank to train privately with only other clan members to see them. It was probably for the best that way, but Indra didn't see it like that. It wasn't that he wanted to show off, but instead simply enjoyed the idea of seeing others hard at work beside him. It inspired him and forced him to want to grow and improve that much more. He took a swig from his water skin, the cool water refreshing and revitalizing him as he prepared for the day's training in the hot desert sun. Popping the cap back in he sighed with a fresh, Ahhh. Before jumping from the stadium seating and heading onto the dusty track for a light warm-up jog.

After his jog, it was onto stretching. Many shinobi, especially ones closer to his age, found stretching and warming up to be ridiculous. They wanted to jump straight into the action and get started, most likely so they could be done with training as quickly as possible. Both Indra's mother and father had stressed the importance of warming up the body first before engaging in rigorous training though. A cold body going from no exercise to strenuous exercise was simply a recipe for disaster. A ticking time bomb of potential injury and harm to one's self. His peers who forego stretching and pre workout activities may look fine day to day, but that was only because their number hadn't been called yet, so to speak. After stretching, it was time for some light meditation to clear his mind and prepare himself for his training for the day. A zen seated position allowed him to close his eyes and focus on his breathing, imagining the techniques that he'd be mastering that day. Mmmmm. He hummed to himself, picturing the shadow clone technique he had decided on for the day. He had a clone technique in his arsenal, but it was relatively limited and relied on Lightning Release Chakra. Should he run into someone or something that simply was unbothered by such a chakra nature, he was in trouble and the technique would mostly be useless. A clone technique using ambient chakra however, that was entirely different. Not only that, but the shadow clone technique, while simple by itself, allowed for a vast array of differentiation, adaptation, and improvement. The only thing worse than fighting a difficult opponent is suddenly having to fight two of them. He preferred when the odds were in his favor, rather than being surprised by someone else. Beyond that, he'd also want to work on some of his body's functions, training them up to a level that was acceptable of someone at his current status.

Right then, time to get started. He said to himself, opening his eyes and rising from the sand covered ground. Brushing himself off, he imagined a still image of himself and began forming the necessary hand signs. In a poof of smoke, a second Indra appeared beside him. It wasn't anything new for the boy, he possessed a clone technique already, though he rarely used it. He simply found the process and practice of cloning to be fascinating every time it happened. The details were so...perfect. Which made sense truthfully. What was the point of cloning something if it was off? Then it wasn't really a clone anymore, right? Indra reached out and the clone did the same, they touched finger tips and simultaneously said, Whoa. Though the original Indra frowned, the clones weren't supposed to mimic the user unless instructed to do so. Alright, knock that out. Indra said with an annoyed tone. Heh, sorry, couldn't help it. The Indra clone said, You should try making more of us while you're here. At your current rank you can make like five of us in total or something. The clone continued.
Yeah, I obviously know that. You're me, you know everything I know and vice-versa. Indra said with a roll of his eyes, though the clone did have a point. It was worth a shot while he was here. So, following the same routine, he made his hand seals and one puff of smoke later there were now three Indras on the training field.
I'm ALIVEEEEE! Second clone Indra said as dramatically as possible upon his appearance.
Am I really like this? Original Indra asked.
Yes. The clones agreed, simultaneously.


Another roll of his eyes and Indra sighed, Alright, let's see your ability to retain and bring back information. You go that way, He said to Clone 1, and you go that way. Observe anything and everything you think I don't already know or haven't noticed. Be back in five minutes. The clones nodded and ran off while Indra took a seat on the ground, his eyes closed so he didn't see them or where they went exactly. He didn't want any uncertain variables creeping into his little experiment. Several minutes later and the clones returned. Indra nodded to both before making a hand seal and each disappeared into a cloud of their own smoke, gone from existence as easily as they had appeared. He felt his chakra reserves replenish, having been split three ways while the clones were...alive so to speak. As his chakra reserves replenished though, new information bombarded his brain. Images and thoughts from the clones and their observations. He shook his head, startled but amused by the sudden torrent of information, Whoa, that could come in handy.

Words: 1269/1200

Techniques Being Trained:

Approved

Genjutsu had always alluded Indra, but mostly because he took no interest in it. To him, Genjutsu was for the Iwari Branch of the Erlang clan. It was their specialty and short of acquiring his own Itsugan, he'd never be able to hold a candle to their prowess in the mental arts, so he had never bothered to even try. Indra was made to be a physical specialist, with some chakra tricks thrown in to keep things interesting and most importantly, keep him alive. However, the Tokubetsu Jonin exams had quickly revealed to him just how important it was to focus on his specialty but dabble in a few areas as well. He didn't need to be able to go toe to toe with a mental specialist, that simply would never be possible, but he did need to be able to defend himself. Ironically, both the Mishura Branch and Denkou Branch had their own genjutsu fighting styles. They simply were nowhere near as thorough or versatile as what an Itsugan and the Iwari Branch were capable of. The Mishura style was all about brute force mental attacks, something Indra would put off for a time. He had only recently acquired his Blaze Release chakra nature and there was still a lot to learn before he dove in head first. The Denkou style however was less about utilziing Genjutsu and more about escaping from it. This was exactly what he needed and what he was looking for.

That last opponent of his in the exams...he was completely at her mercy. For the briefest of moments, he smiled unconsciously as he thought of her. Would it have really been so bad to be completely at her mercy? He shook his head, ridding himself of any unsavory thoughts. Yes, of course, that would be terrible. He was no one's puppet. So, with that in mind, Indra had settled on the Thunder Illusion Style to start him on his genjutsu journey and would, at the very least, begin dabbling in the Raidengan's genjutsu escape capabilities. The Thunder Illusion Style was truly a blessing for someone like Indra, or any member of the Denkou Branch really. It didn't rely on his sight, but rather allowed him to easily weave genjutsu techniques into lightning release chakra and hybrid techniques he was using anyway. This didn't stop at just his ninjutsu lightning release techniques either and he was already formulating ways to incorporate illusions into his Dance of the Photosphere kenjutsu style, as well as the nintaijutsu style he had been working out for the last few weeks. Indra was moving further and further away from a one trick pony and finally elevating himself to the proper level of Tokubetsu Jonin.

Coupled with his new interest in clones and even movement styles, Indra would make sure he was a true threat with or without his sword. The Tokubetsu Jonin exams had shown him just how important it was to have control in a situation. Each of his opponents had immediately established battlefield supremacy over him, while he relied solely on himself and what he could do, he didn't have a single technique that was able to overcome their area control techniques. Speed, strength, and his eyes had gotten him this far but the difference in power and just pure threats out in the world was an entirely different league than what he had been exposed to. He needed to get better with misdirection and confusion, then he could fall back on his speed and strength to execute, but without misdirection or area control, he'd be a sitting duck. Things were about to get tricky, but he was more than ready.

Words: 612/600

Technique Learned:

Approved

OOC: My last Spec Training was 09/09/2022

Ah yes, a day off from training and time to get back to his stories. Indra always looked forward to these times, although it was somewhat odd considering the only one setting his schedule was Indra himself. So technically, he could get back to his stories whenever he wanted. That just wasn't how Indra operated though. He was a man of conviction and dedication. If he didn't make a strict schedule and adhere to it like the letter of the law, then he would grow sloppy and lazy. That would only turn out poorly for the young man and the entire village at large, dare he say the entirety of the Republic even. He shuddered at the thought. Today though was no day to worry about such things and Indra settled into his couch, his story opened to the ear marked page.


“Fendra, do you know how to get out of here?” Farrus whispered.
His sister said nothing, but for the briefest of moments, he thought he saw her head shake in response. He tried to convince himself it was a trick of the light but failed when fear sat like a rock in his stomach. Farrus had lost all track of time. They could have been in these caves for ten minutes or two hours and he had little to occupy his mind. He simply focused on the sounds and sights he could make out. The scrape of six pairs of sandals on stone, the different types of breathing each of his siblings produced. Occasionally, Farrus could make out the dripping of water and he wondered if they were below some sort of subterranean lake in the mountain. He wondered if they would rest soon or if they even could. The tunnels were too narrow to set up a proper camp and if the Saurlites did manage to track them through all of the twists and turns they had taken, Farrus and his siblings would be sitting ducks wedged into this tight tunnel. It dawned on him that Fendra was searching for a cavern of some kind, somewhere to rest and fortify until the Saurlites gave up or attacked.
“Does anyone feel warmer?” Farrus asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
“You’re just hot from the marching. Your body is probably exhausted.” Forgrus said, two heads behind Farrus.
“No, really. I think the air is getting warmer. It was only getting colder ever since we entered the cave, but now- now it’s different.” Farrus said.
“I feel it too.” Fylest said.
“There is a considerable chance we’re all suffering from exhaustion.” Forrian offered.
“No, Farrus is right. The air is getting warmer.” Fendra said, pausing for the first time since they had entered the caves.
“Hold this,” she said, handing the torch back to Farrus. Fendra continued walking forward into the complete blackness.
“Fendra, wait!” Farrus called after her and stepped forward.
“Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
Then she was gone and the remaining five stood in silence.
Though it had only been moments, Farrus felt a life time had passed before he heard the scrape of footsteps coming toward him.
“There’s light up ahead,” Fendra said in a hushed tone.
“Daylight?” Forgrus asked.
“No, flame for certain.”
“Saurlites?” Forrian asked.
“Maybe. I can’t be sure. I didn’t hear any talking or movement but didn’t dare risk going any further. It also-” She hesitated, as if not fully believing what she said next, “it also grew warmer the closer I got. Hotter even.”
“Can torches do that?” Finna asked, speaking for the first time.
“If each of those Saurlites we saw had one and in this tight of a space, maybe,” Forrian said though he didn’t seem convinced.
“How could they have possibly gotten in front of us?” Fylest asked.
“It’s impossible to know where all those different channels could have led. They may have stumbled across one that was shorter than our own or maybe they have a map of these caverns.” Forgrus said.
“So what then? Do we go back?” Fylest asked.
Farrus looked at the torch he held, its flame was already beginning to burn low. He doubted it’d last the trek back the way they had come and wasn’t sure if they had any more.
“No, it’s not Saurlites.” Fendra spoke up. She had been silent in thought through the entire exchange.
“And you know this because…?” Ferris asked, letting the question hang.
“There were no sounds. No talking, no scrape of footsteps or the ting of metal weapons shifting on a soldier, just-” She paused, her brow furrowed in thought.
“Just what? I don’t mean to rush you, Fen, but we don’t have time for this.”
“Music. There was music. One instrument. A flute maybe.”
“How does that tell you it’s not the Saurlites? Isn’t it possible one of those savages brought an instrument in his pack? It would certainly help pass the time walking through this godforsaken place.” Forgrus said.
“Why would a search part, hunting enemies in a dark, confined space, play an instrument to alert that same enemy of their location?” Fylest asked.
“She has a point.” Finna’s small voice agreed.
“It’s not Saurlites, I know it’s not,” Fenra said with renewed confidence.  
“Then what are we waiting for? Lead on,” Forrian said.
“It might not be Saurlites, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. Whatever it is.”
That silenced the tunnel once more and each sibling let the gravity of the situation sink in. As far as they knew, they had an enemy at their backs and now an unknown mystery waiting ahead of them.
Forrian broke the silence first.
“Well, as I said, what are we waiting for? Maybe the crazy old cook playing music in a cave knows the way out.”


Indra sighed and closed his book. That would have to be enough for today, unfortunately. His stomach was beginning to make bestial sounds and the clock indicated his father would be home soon. The least Indra could do on his day off was get a hot meal started for the two of them. So for now, it was done with the stories until his schedule next permitted such a time, though he longed to find out what happened next. Things were just starting to get good after all.

Words: 1014/1000

Spec Training:

Approved

OOC: Idk what this counts as. Weekly maybe?

Okay, so it says here that familiars can grow in accordance with the rank of their shinobi. Indra said, looking over a borrowed scroll from the Erlang archives. There were dozens like it as this was far from hidden clan information, but the old crone at the archives department had scared him enough that he wanted to return it as soon as possible. Durga sat on his shoulder, the purple salamander's tail flicking back and forth as she looked over the scroll herself.
Mhmm, sounds about right to me. She said confidently.
Okay, so is there anything specific we have to do? We've trained together plenty of times and you've stayed the same size. I can't imagine some sort of fundamental law of the universe suddenly makes you grow the first time we train after I've achieved a new rank. That seems so...arbitrary. What if the Republic didn't do ranks? Could you never grow? Indra began to trail off, his mind and thoughts overcoming most forms of logic as it sometimes did when he dwelled too hard on a given topic. Durga simply looked up at her partner, waiting for the young man to finish his monologue.
I dunno. Durga finally said, interrupting him and thankfully ceasing any deeper travel down this particular rabbit hole.
You don't know what? Indra asked, curious.
How it works.
You have no idea? But you're the one growing!
Mhmm, but it's not like this is something we salamanders go over in the summoning realm.
You don't? This seems somewhat important, don't you think? Indra asked, becoming somewhat frustrated with the salamander's lacksidasical tone.

Eh. To be fair, it hasn't happened in awhile. Since I've been around, the small guys have been small and the big guys have been big. Just not something that comes up a whole lot, y'know boss?
No, I genuinely don't know. Indra said with a defeated sigh, his head falling to his hands.
Wait, couldn't you just go ask someone? He asked with a sudden thought. Go back to the summoning realm, find an elder or something and ask them how it's done now that I'm B-rank.
Hmmm I s'pose that could work. Durga said, flicking her tail back and forth in deep thought. Indra waited patiently for several minutes, the two regarding each other in utter silence, though really it was just him staring at Durga and waiting for her to disappear while she stared off into the distance.
Durga?
Yeah, boss?
Well?
I am actually, yeah. Thanks for asking, how about you boss? Durga asked cheerfully.
Indra groaned, No. Are you going to the summoning realm or not? His temper beginning to get the better of him with this creature.
Ohhhh, you meant like...right now?
That would be preferred. Yes. Indra said through gritted teeth.
Okay, be right back. She said with a happy flick of the tail before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Indra laid back in the warm sand, willing his aggression away while he waited for the salamander to return. That had been...trying to say the least. He loved Durga, truly. She was his partner in crime and they had gone through more than one tight situation together. They worked well together but sometimes that salamander's general attitude towards life and goals was grating to the young shinobi. Still, deep down he knew he should really be taking a page out of her book. Things were so serious all the time, it was good to have someone around who knew how to kick back and relax from time to time. However, it didn't make situations like this any easier.

While Indra waited, his hands folded on his stomach, eyes to the clouded sky and one leg perched atop the other's knee, his mind began to wander off to what Durga could be doing. He knew there were some temporary body modification techniques out there that could alter a person's size for a short time, but nothing that would be permanent like what Durga was supposed to be able to do. There was supposedly a clan that had access to blood and flesh release even, though he had never met one as far as he knew. Perhaps he needed to seek them out and ask for their opinion on the matter if Durga came back with nothing. That seemed like quite the bother though, considering there were multiple clans with familiar contracts, so having to seek out a singular, mostly hidden clan along the coast every time seemed ridiculous.

It wasn't until an hour or so later that Indra felt the familiar tug of Durga wishing to be summoned. They didn't have a mental link of any kind, but something about being bonded with her allowed them to sort of...feel the other's presence when wishing to be summoned. It was odd and difficult to explain without people feeling it themselves. Indra sighed, expecting the worst and having to figure out what to do next as he placed his hand on the summoning tattoo on his shoulder. A puff of smoke later and suddenly Indra was being crushed into the sand by an unexpected force. He tried to cry out in surprise, but his mouth was flooded with sand instead, choking him and quickly starting to cover his airways. So instead of a sudden yell of surprise, it was more of a Hrmmgfhhhg!

Whoops, sorry boss. Let me help you out there! Durga's familiar voice said above him, though it was a bit deeper and certainly louder than it had been only an hour or so before. The strange force crushing him into the ground moved off of his back and Indra was able to sit up, spitting sand from his mouth and greedily taking in deep breaths of fresh air. Before him was Durga, but seemingly super-sized. Potentially big enough to even ride into battle and Indra caught himself staring, his jaw slack a bit as he stared.
Wh-what happened? Indra asked, not expecting her to come back already re-sized.
I just asked. Apparently, the elders were already aware of your rank up and were waiting on me to come around and asked to be sized up. Pretty neat, huh?
Wait, I've been a Tokubetsu Jonin for over a month now. You're telling me you could have sized up AT ANY TIME by just ASKING to? What were you doing for the last month in the summoning realm?
...vibing. Durga said, cocking her now large head to the side as if it was obvious and Indra had asked a ridiculous question.

V...vibing. You were vibing. For the last month. Sure, why not. Indra sighed, completely defeated at this point. Well, at least it worked and that's one thing off the to do list. You should probably head back to the summoning realm so you can get a feel for your new body. I'm sure it'll take some getting used to...considering you already crushed me in your first two seconds in our realm.
Sounds good boss, see ya later! Durga said with a smile before disappearing in a puff of smoke. Indra shook his head, happy that that had been taken care of. A part of him realized how much he was going to miss the small salamander perched on his shoulder now, but that was a part of growing up, unfortunately.

Words: 1197/1150

Tech:

Approved

Hrmm I guess this is some sort of movement technique. Indra said to himself, scratching his head while he read over the scroll depicting information on the Body Flicker Technique. It was an odd technique for sure, but seemed to rely on his speed tiers to quickly, almost instantly, teleport. Although it of course wasn't real teleportation, that was insane, but due to the quick speed at which the user moved it would appear as if he had teleported or simply changed places. Mix in some Lightning Release chakra and suddenly he could flash, stun, or even harm people who got too close to his movements. It made for some interesting possibilities, to say the least. That's not to mention the fact that his arsenal of techniques was SEVERELY lacking in the supplementary movement department. Many of his styles, such as Suiko-Ryu, relied heavily on movement and covering ground as quickly as possible. So, if he could master a movement style that allowed him to cover even more ground than just using simple Speed Tiers well now, that could prove to be very interesting indeed.

So I guess I just...do it? He asked to no one in particular, rolling up the scroll and trying to think this through. It seems like I can even do it from a standing position, I don't even have to be moving first...which is interesting. He gathered himself into a ready position, although ready for what he couldn't be sure. Then, concentrating he just...moved. And moved he did, but regularly, with nothing special. The kid literally just took a step and sighed in annoyance. Once more he tried and this time he felt himself sort of...flicker to the right. He could feel the air around him displace and then suddenly he was where he wanted to be, without actually taking a step.

Words: 306/300

Techs:

Approved

It had been quite some time since Indra had stepped foot on the training fields. He had no good reason for his absence really, and it wasn't entirely him getting lazy. The entire Republic it seemed had gone into a sort of hibernation the last few months. Problems had been surprisingly few and infrequent, easily quelled by a few shinobi being dispatched, who were usually home by the following day. The villages themselves had entered a sort of silent agreement for peace, with no one openly vying for power. In fact, even the faintest rumors of subterfuge or dark political positioning had been hard to find. It seemed everyone was at a sort of peace with themselves and the current state of the world. While this seemed idilic in a sense, it was also very troubling. Sure safety was at an all-time high, something much needed after the Bijuu attacks back when, but people also didn't seem to be striving for anything more.

Indra was a training fiend, but he found himself simply kicking back idly waiting for...something. He couldn't quite be sure what. It was simply a sense of, "Why bother?" That was over now though. He was tired of all this waiting around for something to happen and honestly rather disappointed with the slow start to his new Tokubetsu Jonin career. It was time to get out there, to experience a true taste of freedom without the shackles of his former Genin rank. It was a dangerous world out there, even if at present it didn't seem it, and Indra was of the mind he'd rather be prepared than caught off guard.

So, with the training fields eerily deserted, Indra stepped out into the afternoon sun. He took a deep breath, feeling good that he was finally back after such a long absence and took in his surroundings. Everything appeared the same, though it looked like even the cleaning crews that usually swept down and cleaned off the equipment and field had been slacking lately. Though there was always a fine layer of dust and desert sand on most things in Kohaigakure, the equipment hadn't been wiped down in what looked like weeks. Indra sighed, but it wouldn't deter him. He pulled the scroll from his back pocket and unfurled it, going over the new fighting style he had dreamed up with some help from his father and one or two of his mother's old scrolls she had left behind. He smiled to himself at the thought of pulling this off. The fighting style, and its subsequent techniques, were truly something to behold. If he could make it all work together, he would be a threat not only to shinobi of a similar rank, but potentially even those technically above him. It'd be his ace in the hole, something to fall back on when things became truly dangerous and a style that could truly showcase all that he had learned as a genin. It combined the best parts of each clan he bore lineage to and knew it was something that would truly help make a name for himself. Not that that was important in the grand scheme of things, but it was certainly a nice consideration.

To begin, Indra started with his usual stretches. It helped no one to injure themselves during training from simply not stretching and loosening up enough. It was actually quite sad and a bit of an embarrassment, with young shinobi often making up tall tales of injuring themselves trying to perfect some sort of mega-awesome jutsu. Even though anyone who had ever made the same mistake, which was just about all shinobi at one time or another, knew the real reason for the limp or favoring one arm over the other. From there, he went into his stance for this fighting style. It was unlike anything else he had so far, with his kenjutsu favoring more of a still, posed stance that allowed him to read and predict before dealing savage blows. His taijutsu style from his Taki lineage took on more of a brawler stance, raising his fists in anticipation of what was to come, this fighting style was simply savage. It was ferocious and beastial, causing him to stand loosely, hands out in a menacing, caged animal-like way. Once he had perfected it, combining this style with his Lightning Chakra Mode or Lightning Chakra Armor would only make it even more deadly.

Before trying any actual attacks or attacking motions, Indra simply practiced moving in this stance. It was difficult at first, as if he had to push himself against his training and down to a more primal level. Rather than teaching a novice how to fight, it was like teaching a professional how to fight like a novice thinks fighting is. It relied on basic instinct rather than focus, moving as his body directed rather than his mind. From there, he could begin infusing bits of teaching and practices from his styles, but to start he had to go completely down to his base idea of fighting. A fight for survival and when the time came, complete and utter dominance of his opponent.

This fighting style, named Raijin Senkei, or Thunder God's War Form, was not intended to be something he used for a prolonged period of time. Instead, it focused on blitzing the opponent and bypassing their defenses for a completely overpowering and devastating attack to end the fight completely. While it wasn't terribly taxing by nature, it relied on Indra's full attention to managing numerous different techniques and resource pools at once. The mental strain to make sure he didn't overdo it in any one area was enough to give him a headache just thinking about it, but it was a small price to pay and something easily overcome with more and more practice of the style.

After practicing his movements for a while, phantom enemies dancing around him and being struck down in his mind, Indra took a break and refreshed from the water jug he had brought with him. The style wasn't all about offense of course, it also had a defensive aspect to it that would allow him to read and counter an incoming attack. Thanks to the Mishura branch's Intercepting Fist style, Indra had figured out a way to combine their teachings with this style to make for a truly dangerous counter attack. In addition, adding in the use of his trained Displacement Aura would make this something where he could counter attack multiple enemies at a distance at the same time. He smiled, dropping back into his meditative state, imagining numerous phantom shinobi coming for him at once. Sparks of electricity discharged as he moved, striking them down as they came forward to harm him and those he held dear. Each fell in his mindscape, twitching and begging for death if he had bothered to leave them in a state that allowed them to still talk. Broken phantom bodies littered the ground around him and Indra stood triumphantly over them, breathing hard.

Until, his breathing turned faster and shallower, he gripped his chest as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. Was this...was he...having a heart attack? A young, fit shinobi in the prime of his life? The odds of that were astronomical. He fell to his knees, opening his eyes, but the two worlds bled together and for the briefest of moments he couldn't tell reality from the imaginations he had been fighting. A young, female samurai stared up at him with glassy dead eyes. Red streaked the sand by his neck and he snapped his eyes painfully shut, pressing the lids so hard together he wondered if they may tear. Eventually, the panic attack subsided and he was left alone in the field, curled in the fetal position. His memories had become living nightmares and taken him completely off guard. This was why he trained though, not just to protect himself, but to have the control to protect others from him.

Words: 1335/1200

Jutsu Learned:

Approved