Ariamis
Setsuko
Kohonjenpou Warehouses - Fighting
The Hamajo Confederation
Heavy Violence
@Partisan - @FallenTrinity - @tex
-poof-
"Wait," she held her hand out as the clone had thought it was it's time to go next. A wave of information from the clone that had been attacked had flooded her head enough for her to get a headache, and because she had only used the clone for information a handful of times other than this one then it did actually give her a headache. At that her byakugan had deactivated, and Setsuko would look to the clone wondering what else could be done with it instead of sending it to it's death. Of course it wasn't going to die; just go poof, but she didn't have unlimited power like the legendary Naruto so wasting it would be a dumb move only genin would make. She could almost hear Higoho calling her a baka as if she had made that decision, and that was to an extent annoying.
There wasn't any time to stand there, and go over the information that the clone had gladly given her. She wasn't planning for the enemy to go into battle off the bat like that, but was content that her clone was useful in providing some type of knowledge on the enemy. The thought of fighting someone who wasted not one second on being the first - er - second to attack was exhilarating as it made her want to jump into battle right away. That would have to wait however as she signaled for her clone to follow her to the broken window. "So that's how it broke..." she whispered to herself as the memory of how it broke came to her. "Wouldn't expect less from me, myself, and I."
"Hey," she'd say to the clone. "Go in here, but don't do anything other than give Masato the order to engage." Before heading to the opposite end of the warehouse Setsuko would add one more thing to the order. "Oh, and tell him good job with the bombs."
The clone Setsuko would go in through the window like the first one had done while the original Setsuko ran parallel to the wall to reach the other side. Setsuko was going to get another angle of the warehouse, and make her own plan of entering now that she had a slight idea of how the enemy fought. The jutsu the female enemy used was confusing no matter how many times she ran the image through her head, but her forte wasn't in deciphering jutsu attacks. It was stopping them even if she wasn't the best of the best at it. If she could slightly stop that woman's strange jutsu then she could possibly even the playing field. Maybe she's a commander...Nah, she can't be. How cool would it be to get rewarded for killing a commander though? The raise...
As Setsuko was...busy the clone would carefully get in the warehouse through the window, and look for Masato. Where to start in the mess of stacked boxes was questionable up until she easily saw Masato hiding behind another crate. She whistled to get his attention, and as he turned to see who had made that sound the clone ducked behind a large crate, and crawled over to Masato. "Oi, good job with the bombs," Clone Setsuko gave him a thumbs up. "Also, you should engage. I said so."
With that simple order Masato created a set of hand signs that would summon what assumed to be the Drill Sergeant Jutsu along with two of its smaller constructs. The clone would stare at the shinobi; wide-eyed at how Masato had summoned something she had never seen before. Yet Masato wasn't done as he would again make a few hand signs to summon an Archer construct to go along with it. "You," he pointed to the Sergeant. "Take the foot-soldier, and shield-barrier close to the enemy that attacked Setsuko; over there." He gestured to the woman who had just said something to her team. "You two," Masato then pointed to the two constructs behind it. "Attack as a team, and defend as a team." Before they were to leave Masato would then instruct the archer construct to find a place to shoot since there were boxes on top of boxes to be able to shoot from. Because if his weakness Masato would nod to the clone Setsuko before turning away to find a new hiding spot that his constructs would be able to see him from.
