The punk samurai who is known as Bones by his average but growing online following was wondering through the streets, just waiting to get some action done. The young samurai smiled behind his helmet as he found a clear space to throw his drone up into the air. The machine spun up into the air before activating the rotors and correcting itself, the camera focusing on it's owner as Bones rested his sword over his shoulders, ready to address the stream.

"What's up guys?" He greeted, the voice had a bit of modulation to it but you could definitely tell it was a dude behind the mask. "Just heard a commotion nearby, figured I'd let you guys in on the action. I'll be roaming around for the day." He explained, filling in the audience on the loose 'schedule' he had in mind. "Once we've had some fun, I'm going out for a night on the town. Got a spot you want me to check out? Wanna hang out? Stay tuned, don't go anywhere." He chuckled, point the large sword at drone before heading off to the commotion nearby.

On his approach, Bones noticed a man in a dark kimono. He instantly recognised Shinobi. If he could get in good with the Orobs, that could set him up for a nice, long membership when he was older. He smirked behind his helmet as he went around to find a flanking position. Soon enough, he came up behind a large, black Oni and a shadowy man with a kusarigama. His outlandish approach would certainly not go amiss.

"Hey Ugly! You got room for this little dinner date here or should I just concern myself with dark and mysterious over here?" Bones shouted, gesturing to the chain sickle wielder lazily with his sword.

@Gisk

The day was starting to wind down in Burokun City. The busy streets began to thin out as the day goers went home and the night crowds prepared for whatever they planned on doing tonight. Rubin enjoyed this lull as he find a nice spot to park his scooter and take a load off before making his way to his next delivery for the evening.

Humphrey parked his scooter up on the shoulder of a bridge and cracked out his battered headphones, the same ones that he had since he was little. They weren't anything pretty to look at but they still worked plenty fine for Rubin. He plugged his headphones in and started up his music as he sat back in his seat for a well deserved break.

Rubin was no more than half way into the song before a buzz from his phone brought his attention back to reality. His boss texted in that he had another delivery waiting to be delivered. He gave an exhausted sigh but took his headphones off and popped his helmet back on and burned off back to work. His place of employment was a little post office that specialized in cheap and fast deliveries. Their lack of government backing meant they had to take every advantage to undercut their better funded competitors, one such advantage being hiring employees who could deliver goods with their own vehicles as was the case with Rubin.

Rubin lightly jogged into the store, helemt still on, to pick up the package left for him by his boss who was nowhere to be seen but likely just in the back. Without a word Rubin took the package, read the address and left once more on his scooter. He hoped to be able to ditch this job once he made a name for himself in the street samurai community. He figured he was good enough to get a few sponsors if he could just get a break but his lack of skill with a sword and it's overall cheap quality would likely railroad him into his current line of work for longer than he'd like.

Riding along one of the longer stretches of road, Rubin went over his game plan of getting discovered for the millionth time as he thought about the katana he had slung and sheathed away on his scooter just below him. Despite the odds, Rubin was determined to make a name for himself without needing to default to one of the gimmicks used by most of the gangs out there today. He was brought out of his own head as he arrived at the address. Package in tow, Rubin rang the doorbell of the home a few times before settling on leaving the package in front of the door and heading out. Rubin once again repeated the process of finding a spot to park and cracking out his headphones only this time he got a notification. Bones was going live and as a fan of the up and coming Street Samurai, Rubin opened up the streaming on his phone.

"What's up guys?" the phone rang out as Rubin got settled in on the seat of his scooter, one hand holding his phone and the other idly playing with his sheathed katana.

@GingerBoi123

The Oni turned his head halfway, no longer looking at either Ronin directly, but somewhere in between them. One of his lower arms jerked a thumb backward at Bones.

“Dust ‘im,” he grumbled.

The man turned obediently from Shinobi, lifting the scythe part of his weapon. The chain moved, apparently of its own accord, slithering and clinking from his waist, and up his arm. The chain gained slack as more of its length came onto his arm, and soon it dropped heavily to the floor, as if it were made of lead. It was black as a void.

“I thought this was Original Ronin,” he said this with a sneer in his harsh, whispering voice, “Territory. Him we expected, not some bonehead kid. Why don’t you..”

Shinobi cut the man off, “Not your fight, kid,” but only got that far when the Oni charged. Shinobi had his sword out of the scabbard, but only had the left hand on it when the Oni’s enormous club connected with it. It blocked the blow from hitting him, but Shinobi was knocked backward. He rolled once, but came out in a crouched position, his sword in an overhead guard, two handed now.

“Just what I was saying,” the scythe man said, and launched his kusarigama from his hand. As before, it moved with little input from the man, shooting from his hand in a straight line, but not aimed directly at Bones, rather past him, on a trajectory to come back and wrap him in the chain.

@GingerBoi123

~~~

Someone sat at a laptop on a table, watching a live drone feed from a fight about to break out. They opened a new tab, and began checking a janky, 90’s looking website that listed known Oni in Burokun.

Kuro Kohai. Black Oni(obviously). No known affiliations, entry from two days ago. Only one fight on record, left a Ronin in the hospital, but didn’t bother killing him. No known injuries.

A blip came from the computer, heralding an instant message.

gren: hey yella aint that a hopeful staring down a bloni??

Yellow: Yes. Might like to see up close. Suit up.

gren: iunno yella, black isnt even a neon color.. doesnt go does it??

gren: also.. not worth starting beef with orobs, is it??

Yellow: Suit up.

The laptop slammed shut.

~~~

There was a clatter behind Rubin, and if he were to look back, he would see a garbage can rolling out of an alley, having been knocked over. Curiously, the only thing spilling from it was a pile of fine white ash, which drifted up in dust clouds that seemed to disappear as quickly as the wind could kick them up.

A whisper flitted up the street.

“Clutter… Filth… Disorder…”

There was silence for a moment, and then something struck the back of Rubin’s head. It was the palm of a hand, which became apparent as the fingers, long and spindly, wrapped around the left side of his head, covering the visor of his helmet.

Over his right shoulder, a creature with a long neck, and creamy ivory skin craned its head. It forcibly turned on Rubin’s helmet, to force them face to face. Its face was a mask. A serene face of purest white, with black hair on the top, in a knot.

“Why are you so dirty?”

@rocketrobie2

---

It was kinda cloudy when I arrived at the cemetery, I walk pass some tombstones that have flowers or something that someone that have pass likes in front of it. As I walk pass the tombstones, I finally found the one that I was looking....my father tombstone.

I sit down crisscross in front of father tombstone and pull down my hooded. "....Um...Hey Dad" I say to him "I know, I know. Mom say I can only visited you on special days like Father day, Christmas or your birthday. But being me, I was a little impatient and before you ask, yes, I did ask mom if I can visited you and she say yes..." I say, it little quiet to have give in "...Ok, ok, I sneak out of the house while she was a sleep." I finally confess "I'm doing ok at school, just in case you were about to ask. I'm doing incredibly great at track." I proudly say to him "What can I say? You and mom just raise a badass girl who can run like the wind" I say while laughing

After few minutes of silent, I finally say something with a sigh "I know what you are thinking 'Ran Saya, why on earth you have my katana?' Well, I thinking about your samurai stories you told me when I was kid and between you and me, I been training behind mom back" I say "I know, I shouldn't do that but you were a big inspiration that I wanted to be like you." I say to him smiling "And ever since this show call 'Street Samurai' started airing, I guess it time for me to shine. Man, if you were alive right now, you would totally crap on the show" I started laughing at the thought but soon that laugh start to fade away as I thought of him being alive right now....But in reality, he not....he is gone.

I finally stand up, I remove the string that is holding the sword from my back, and open scabbard to see the blade that is reflecting my eyes. I close the katana and put it back behind my shoulder, I look at father tombstone and say somber "...I miss you dad...I love you." I wipe my eye as it about to make a tear, I walk away from father tombstone and into the busy streets.

An ice cream truck was slowly cruising through town. It was a bit late for ice cream, but Roger was no mere peddler of ice cream: He was a street samurai, on patrol. Unlike the others, the samurai known as Destructo had very little online presence. He didn't care about fame or glory: He only cared about raw destructive power. He was hunting: He was looking for an oni to steal the mask of. He had the radio tuned to the Ronin station, and heard about a disturbance not too far from the graveyard, which he was just passing by. Jackpot. He turned the corner, and saw a big, four-armed oni down the street. He floored it, the jingle growing faster and faster as he screeched down the street, not seeming to care if he hit the Orobi, or perhaps trusting him to get out of the way. It looked like he was going to miss the creature. But then, he opened the window, leaning out of it.

"YOU'RE DEAD MEAT!" Destructo snarled. Like other Samurai, he wore a helmet. His was a hockey mask. It hid his face, but anyone present could hear the sheer killing intent in his tone. In his hands, he had a baseball bat. Aluminum sprayed bubblegum-pink, with a massive, sharpened rail-spike welded to the smashing surface. He'd constructed it in particular for piercing oni-skulls in drivebys, which was exactly what he was trying to do. If it hit, it would have Roger's considerable strength backed by the ice cream truck he was driving at 60mph.

@Gisk @Gingerboi123@rocketrobie2@sassy1085

Marionette looked down at the fighting below. She was lounging on the edge on the room of a big warehouse, one of her dealers had gotten a new shipment of weapons. Good weapons. She had handpicked this shipment to match what the ronin in the area could possibly want. She had been watching them an unusual amount the past couple months to figure out what they could possibly need. She had watched what they used, how they used it, and every possible problem and strength to the point where she possibly knew how these ronin fought better than they did. She leaned in and took a bite of her sandwich, watching them was interesting and had become a pastime in addition to being research. She watched in anticipation as a ronin in an ice cream truck drove towards an oni full speed with a sort of baseball bat. She hoped the fighting would calm down soon as interesting as it was though, she had to go check in with a dealer who was having problems with one raiding his main warehouse and she promised to help.

@spike

He was just finishing writing the last of the days emails to the publishers of his photos. Last night wasn't so good, he was expecting this night to be a lot better. He lighted a smoke as the mail was uploading the photos and prepared the cameras, the flash system and cleaned the Wakizashi.

Daryl threw away the cigarette butt and put on the mask as the sun was going down his apartment's window. Flasher was ready for some action. He had been doing the same for 2 years now as a Ronin: Patroling and checking social media to look for Oni and fellow Ronin. Fighting and Photographing; the two things he enjoyed the most. Tonight wasn't any different, some kid was reporting a situation on Orob Territory. "Great, tonight's gonna be a good night" he said to himself. He was riding his motorcycle; black with white stripes just as his Ronin garbs.

As he was approaching the location he saw an Ice cream truck crossing the next intersection at full speed. "Destructo's already here". He parked his motorcycle and walked the rest of the way. Flasher had already readied the camera and was zooming on Destructo getting ready to smash the Oni's face.

@Spike

While the chain ban battled Bones, Shinobi was kept on the ropes by the Oni, Kuro Kohai. Shinobi was a good deal faster, but no matter what side of Kuro he got on, it seemed the Oni always knew where he was, swinging his club before even turning his head.

"YOU'RE DEAD MEAT!"

Kuro turned his head halfway, reaching one of his bottom hands behind him and grabbing hold of the bat as Destructo drove by. The spike went straight through his palm, and as Destructo continued, still holding the bat, the spike ripped from his palm up to the webbing of his hand, tearing it down the middle. A thick, black ichor oozed slowly from the wound, and while the Oni was ever so briefly distracted, Shinobi reared his sword over his head and brought it down on the elbow of the same hand.

It sliced through muscle, but skidded off bones harder than steel. Kuro threw a vicious kick at Shinobi's chest in the opening he had made with his swing, and the Ronin was launched backward like a ragdoll.

Kuro held his injured hand close to his chest, snarling from behind his mask as he backed toward the alley that the chain man had come out of.

@Spike@Deskais32

Bones smirked behind his helmet and leaned to the side as the sickle launched to his side. Ever so cocky, he didn’t consider that the chain would wrap around. ”Dark and mysterious it is then.” He retorted, slinging his Odachi to his front and gripping the handle with two hands and keeping it in a low stance. His whole demeanour was very cocky and punk-ish. He charged forward, gearing up for a wide swing.

The man kept his right hand outstretched, the chain that coiled around it slunk forward like a off of a spool as the scythe flew. His left hand came up, and made a gesture, gripping nothing and jerking his elbow backward.

The scythe changed its direction, coming back toward him, spinning in the air now, above their heads. The chain trailing behind it spun in a cyclone, and when it reached Bones it began to whip around him.

Bones continued to charge before he felt the cold steel of the chains wrap around him, which trapped his arms and movement. Twisting around, the young Samurai attempted to go for a pretty ballsy manoeuvre. As he attempted to unwrap himself by twisting in the air at the same time jumping off and kicking off the alley wall to give him more speed spinning and create a new angle of attack. He then activated his clone ability, creating three Bones descending down upon the mysterious man, swords raised and ready to swing down.

The man took a step back, moving into a semi crouched position, and pulled his hand back again. The chain, still spiraling in the air, pulled in quickly, and wrapped around the middle Bones. He grabbed the last end of the chain coiling around his arm with both hands, and pulled to the left, swinging both chain and one of the Boneses down on the left hand copy.

Bones grunted as his clone was sent into him, making him collapse to the ground and collide with the wall. As his clones dissipated, Bones took the opportunity to make a strike at the chain, attempting to throw the trajectory way off before making another charge to get within his sword’s reach.

“Nice trick,” the man grunted, whipping at the chain to try to wrap it around Bones’ sword. The length of chain that had been extended was too heavy, and it swept along the ground instead, passing under Bones in mid stride.

He cursed and started to pivot to the left, pulling some of the chain back to his arm, and trying to get it between the two of them.

“Which Oni’s dick did you have to suck to get that?”

Bones couldn’t help but chuckle as he continued to run in. Once he was within range, the Samurai lunged forward, thrusting with his sword and then making a diagonal swipe to the upper right, trying to catch the kusarigama wielder’s face. The stream feed appeared momentarily in his upper left corner of his helmet, showing the camera angle was fixed on them from above. As the stream disappeared, he caught the man’s comment.

”All natural here. I think you’re the bigger culprit hanging out with an Oni in an alleyway man. Am I gonna find some condoms on your corpse?”

He came away with a bloody gash across his face, and the black hospital mask on his face falling down. Underneath, his lips were completely black, with tendrils like veins under his skin running back toward his ears.

“Just wanted to know if we should offer you a job or waste you. Aren’t you so special, though. We should all be so lucky!”

On the last word he whipped at the chain toward the right, now light enough to move it swung about waist high at Bones, as the man stepped backward.

Bones felt the chains wrap around his waist. Shit… He tried to flick the chain away but he wasn’t sure if he caught it with his sword. ”You know what, I think I’ll pass…” He quipped back, trying to figure out a way to escape the chain again.
(tag)

“That’s too bad,” he said, taking the other, weighted end of the kusarigama, and tossing it around Bones’s neck. He caught it with his left hand, and it started to coil itself around his forearm. The rest of the length started to coil back on his right arm, tightening the chain around both body and throat, constricting Bones like a snake.

“I’ll make sure your sword gets put to further use.”

Bones began to choke a little, having to use his free hand to try and pull at the chain around his neck and make some breathing room. He tried to raise his arm, feeling the chain get tighter as he did it. If it could work though, it could change the battle. Once his sword was raised, he swung down as hard as he could, aiming at a link in the chain trying to sever the weapon in two.

It wasn’t enough. Bones’ sword clanked down hard, but couldn’t sever the chain, it needed a little more force. That force came in a black boot landing hard on the back of Bones’ sword, as a yellow blur swept past.

“Thought you wanted to be our Black,” the voice coming out of the mask was modulated and difficult to pin down. They stood back, backstepping toward an alley, their scabbard in their hand, empty. “Eyes up next time.”

The man in black tried to lunge forward to grab the severed end of chain, but was held back. The other end, coiled tightly around his arm, was pinned into the ground by a sword with a yellow hilt, the head of a bee or wasp on the pommel.

"Ya ya ya ya, nothing to do here."

Walking through an empty street Hotshot was looking for trouble, though she wasn't trying very hard. She picked up some communication about an oni sighting but so many ronin jumped on that opportunity that she didn't feel like wasting time trying to steal the kill. So she was wandering around this particular area; supposedly this was a hotspot for Oni activity. Something about a pub or a bar that was really popular for them here, though this was just a rumor. Rumor or not, a lot of humans left this area so there weren't going to be many other people here. The only ones who would wander through here were foreigners who didn't know, or Ronin looking for trouble. Hosthot figured that the oni wouldn't care which as long as they could get their fun, and she was looking for some fun too.

"Come out, come out wherever you are~"

Destructo was aware of Flasher's presence, but paid him no mind. He didn't care about fame or recognition: He was out for blood. The ice-cream truck squealed to a halt as Destructo turned it to face the oni. He switched on the hi-beams, blinding light shining into the alleyway and the oni's eyes. It also illuminated the bumper of his ice cream truck: Reinfocred, with sharpened metal spikes on the bumper. He put it in park, and the car door slammed shut as the ronin stepped out. Destructo was a tall, well-built young man. He had a mop of crimson hair atop his head. He was kitted out for a fight: His clothes were motorcycle leathers, reinforced with metal plates and themselves covered in sharp spikes.

"Who the fuck said you could leave?!" He said, turning the bat in his hand. The side that didn't have the spike was concave, with a groove Destructo had built in specifically to make targeting his signature move easier. He tossed the ball into the air, and a loud CRACK echoed through the alley as he hit the baseball. It banked off of one of the walls before detonating on the ground. He was aiming for just in front of the Oni's path out, hoping to hit the demon and bar its escape.

@Deskais32 @Gisk

Up until this point Rubin hadn't been in much of a real fight with an Oni. He'd beaten on a few of the smaller ones before but he tended to avoid the big ones since he didn't have any formal training with fighting with anything let alone a Katana. He figured he would work his way up to the more heavy duty baddies over the course of the year but that looked like it wasn't going to be in the cards.

Humpherey turned away from his stream as he heard something scuttle behind him down the road. The rolling trash can and ash was a little off putting but the voice was downright scary enough for Rubin to pause his stream and listen for anymore mutterings from the voice. He nearly screamed as he felt the massive hand grasp his helmet and he came face to face with the strikingly bland mask of the Oni. He tried to reply of move but he couldn't manage to force his muscles to work. Then came the voice again, pushing Rubin over the edge of his fear induced paralysis and into fight or flight.

The ronin who tried to go by Jack quickly clutched his sheathed sword and brought his legs up to kick off of his scooter and onto the ground. He quickly clambered to his feet and readied his Katana before noticing it was still sheathed. Rubin swung the sword and sent the sheathe flying to the ground as he let the cheap sword greet the cool evening air. Wasting no more time, Jack ran at the ivory irritant sword kept low before putting all of his weight and strength into an upward slash at the thing's neck.

She got up, it was getting interesting but she had stuff to do. She walked over to the part of the roof that opened into an alleyway and slid down the wall with on and hand foot on the wall to break her fall. She walked through the maze of alleys till she reached a small warehouse, the dealer outside. She walked up to him and greeted him.

“Hello, so what was your problem again?”

“Oni are raiding the place at night, usually one or two but the number and frequency has been increasing”

She smiled and feigned 100% attention “so you need some nighttime guard?”

“Yes”

She clapped her hands together and said cheerfully “well that shouldn’t be too much of a hassle! Would you like to discuss payment now or later?” She said the last bit in a way that she hinted that she preferred the later, luckily he picked up on it.

“Later would be fine. I’ll see you at dusk?”

“Yes that would be great” then she left. She waited a couple alleys before climbing back up onto another roof lets see. I could do it myself but that would be a waste of time. Those guards for hire are completely useless. Who to send? then the noise of the ronin’s battling caught her attention ronin. Perfect. Now all I need to do is pick a few and ask them. she went back to watching them, now with a purpose.

As Jack fumbled with his sword, the pale Oni drew a sword, also still sheathed, from their sash. They slammed it point first into the ground, where it stuck inexplicably. Something was spreading from the point where it touched the ground, though in the dark it wasn't clear what it was. They drew the sword out with deliberate care. The hilt was wrapped in white silk, with a golden pommel and matching guard. The blade was the palest silver.

When Jack lunged, the Oni brought their sword up to block with breathtakingly perfect form. Form of the sort that assumed the opponent was fighting in the same caliber, which of course Jack was not. His wild and ill practiced slash skittered off of their sword, and nicked the left side of their neck.

They kicked off the ground, flying back an unreasonable distance for the slightness of the motion. A hand came up and stroked the cut thoughtfully. Nothing flowed from the wound. They brought their sword up to their own neck, and mad a cut, matching in perfect symmetry, on the right side.

Suddenly, they lunged, closing the distance they had created in the blink of an eye, and aiming a diagonal slash across Jack's chest.

@rocketrobie2

The enormous black Oni cocked his head sideways as the grenade was thrown. It detonated with concussive force, blasting bits of brick and rubble from the walls on either side of the alley. The Oni Threw his upper two hands up, covering his ears in a moment of pain. His lower arms, meanwhile, held the massive club in front of him defensively. He lowered his hands gingerly, head questing from side to side, sniffing through the mask. His foot tapped, lifting up on the tow to bring the heel down sharply, over and over. Suddenly, he lunged sideways, ramming one of his feet into a newly made crater in the building. His lower right arm dangled with the club, the other three meanwhile shoved their fingers forcefully into the brick, and began to clamber up the wall.

Shinobi, meanwhile, was sprinting past the alley mouth. He slide across the hood of Destructo's truck, shouting at him.

"Get the fuck out of here with that! You've caused more damage than the Oni now!"

He skidded to a stop in front of the noodle stand, peering inside cautiously. But the only one in there was Mr. Hamayoto, an old balding man, cowering behind his counter. The table was an absolute mess, and Shinobi could see that every pot in the place had been emptied bowl by bowl, to feed the Oni.

@Spike@GingerBoi123@Deskais32