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    1. Sync 11 yrs ago

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Bio

Yo! I'm a fairly simply guy who's in here due to my love of writing. I've never got into the swing of things on these forums due to other stuff, hence the massive difference from the time I joined to the number of posts I've made. I'm a big geek when it comes to all things anime, fiction and games. I can roleplay just about anything as long as it doesn't involve me using an actual person's picture. I usually lean on the anime style of RP's, but recently I've been branching out for the sake of gaining perspective. I don't inherently dislike any character tropes, I believe if the execution is right and the direction is clear then something of value can come out of that. I might be online in theory, but that might just be me leaving the tab open. If you wanna talk just go ahead! I don't bite... much.

Most Recent Posts


Hello! I gotta say it was a fun read. Consider myself interested.

TIMES IMMEMORIAL: LET BYGONES BE BYGONES

INHERITANCE OF RESPONSIBILITY: TELLTALE OF PROPER HEARTS
Theme: [x]
__________________________________________________________
There circulates a certain distinction between you and the others.
You haven't realized yet-- The certainty and depth of your potential.
Ah... But with such depth, it will attract the covetous hands of those swept by jealousy.
But you are bound to surmount the hardship assiduously...
--For you wouldn't be part of the family otherwise.


The act of having a lofty goal in itself is worthless. To live at the heights of humanity, firstly you must understand what makes you an individual in the first place. To become something great, searching that which makes you excel beyond others is a necessity one must conquer at earliest before time inevitably sets itself on your bones. To hone such abilities, is in itself a gift granted to some, the will to fight an inconsequential circumstance, regardless of the inevitable failures that may come, unending struggle to conquer is what makes humanity shine to those who understand what it feels to drag your bare feet through rugged concrete. And so we as human beings need to understand our own mediocrity, or perhaps even our own greatness. In the face of what's troublesome, of what's uncomfortable or even difficult. We search within ourselves, the strength that bellows wildly for an escape, the unyielding need to be recognized by those who sought to bury us, to the countless of voice who truly thought that their cynicism would quell the agony of a future of a true luxurious prospect.

Mediocrity is a sin.

That's why those who climb require to clip the wings on those who fly through their struggles. The opportunities they squandered, the choices they've led. Today was a promise of what tomorrow may bring, grief included. Today was but a result of an accumulating pool of bad choices, today you led a life that many other repeated, but also today is a day where all of it ends. Nothing in life is permanent, everything is but a stepping stone for what comes next. And so comes the idea of possibility, but reality stems from a culminations of questions unanswered and repeated mistakes. If humanity is but a cataclysm of ideals and morals, what say that any of us were ever wrong in the paths we chose? What rules really do matter in the grand scheme of things? No one knows, or if they think they do, they fill that void with whatever fits their narrative. Humanity is unwilling, at first, to ever do anything beyond the first perspective. Swayed by our experiences, we fail to truly open up ourselves to the words and minds of others.

Mediocrity is a waste.

Even though the significance is to stand rather arbitrarily among the ordinary, being a part of the color scheme is seen as problematic mindset, but most of us stand in that limelight, or rather lack-thereof. To live is to constantly compete with others, to live is to understand that you will always be your own worst enemy. Standing among our own problems, perhaps even veiling ourselves with them, taking them in as if it were part of our own personality, of our own being.

Giving us Proper understanding of what we lack, and not of what we have.

Purpose, it what guide us to greatness. As these men stood before his heels he understood perfectly the role he was given, perhaps it even became customary for him, where his mind no longer registers what he should be doing, what he should be feeling. It was like a numb calmness which embellished his senses, coveted by a sense of excitement. He knew he had the upper hand, and so it was almost like a game. Taking candy from a baby, taking a life from a man that deserved it. Perhaps this sense in itself was his justice, the strength of man he required to proceed. He could almost hear them, the chains that bind him to the family. Shinobi are suppose to live a life for the people, no, if it comes to that, would I be able to savor freedom for the first time? A smile peered on his lip, as he proceeded with an unusual gait towards his destination. Bodies continued to fall, and his target proceeded to move farther and father from him.

"You fool. Fighting the inevitable? You squandered your opportunities so readily, for what?"

Before Garou Tachibana knew it, a thunder clap was heard, almost as if signaling his demise. To be in this situation wrought is anger, evoked all kinds of warning signs to his body, his teeth were almost sawing through the bottom of his lip in frustration. He picked up the phone and yelled at the top of lungs, the back up wasn't enough, what was happening!? Proper 12 stood with blithe, looking at that frustration immerse itself deeper into his soul, no it wasn't enough. But this... this was gonna finish it. The orbs began to cicle around Proper 12, his power manifesting into a radiant crackle, chirping its electrical surge to the distance as the lightning traced the earth beneath his heels. Garou Tachibana knew they called this boy the Raijin of the Family, but now he understood the magnitude of it. Proper 12 extended his arm, the orbs, 5 of them in total followed to the tip of his fingers. Cycling in a clock wise fashion, their shape reduced itself to the size of Proper 12's finger tips. Rapidly spinning to form a secular object that speed was indescribable. Gesturing the shape of a gun, the on rapid bullet of a power moved before him. Garou Tachibana reached the vehicle finally, witnessing the power the boy was generating, he screamed it to floor it.

"A cornered mouse usually fights for its survival. However... There's no reason for the lion to be concerned by the actions of mice."

"Mystic Railgun!"

A powerful shot, like that of a sniper bullet leaving its chamber, flew across the space in an instance. Before they knew it, Garou Tachibana's head was marked and limp within the vehicles inside, the blood masking the windows and a terrorizing screaming bellowing across the space of the men who he looked after. Proper 12's face beamed, almost as if he knew it all along, the ease of how this would turn out. There truly isn't anything worse than a man with something to lose.

"Alright, if any of you don't want to suffer the same fate in hands of the family, I suggest you give yourself up to me. I'm sure the shinobi course is a lot more forgiving than whatever the family has in store for you. Trust."
TIMES IMMEMORIAL: LET BYGONES BE BYGONES

INHERITANCE OF RESPONSIBILITY: TELLTALE OF PROPER HEARTS
Theme: [x]
__________________________________________________________
There circulates a certain distinction between you and the others.
You haven't realized yet-- The certainty and depth of your potential.
Ah... But with such depth, it will attract the covetous hands of those swept by jealousy.
But you are bound to surmount the hardship assiduously...
--For you wouldn't be part of the family otherwise.


The reality of the matter is life is never fair. To live with loyalty and grace requires a certain understanding of your circumstances and above all an acceptance of it, to live with a romanticized notion of reality is to set yourself to failure, perhaps that is why regardless of upbringing all of us live in a world of grey. Some require it to be bright and colorful, sitting comfortably on their laurels whilst searching for hedonism in every corner, believing that life is but a rich depository of joys and wonders. Other revels in the shadows and wallow in the darkness, attempting to drag all those along with them to piteous guise. And the there's the middle, the indescribable middle, the grey people who are eager to not be a part of it. Afraid of normalcy and mediocrity the bleak majority avoid such truth as if there was something greater in their wake, in other words: the statistics. Those whore are probably on the cusp of normalcy, they don't particularly excel at anything and if they do, it's so minimal it never peers outside of their peripheral. Caught in their own inability, those are the one who attempt to ascend above their role. To become better than your average. In this world--

There's nothing worse than being part of the crowd. Yosuke, you're too important to leave yourself be part of the crowd.

Proper 12 stood before the inevitable, his hands toying with a standard Kunai, towering before the location area. How long has it been since Kaseki introduced himself into their home? Checking his watch, exactly 30 minutes now. It shouldn't have taken him too long now, it was time to dispose himself of the trash. Time to prove himself as a shinobi, all his training, blood-sweat and tears were now gonna be put to display now. A step unto the air from a high building, the youth allowing his weight to be carried onto the void of the sky, dropping into the ground 30 feet beneath him, using his athleticism to twist his body in the air, grab a near by line and spin upon it, using the inertial to rocket himself beyond a large wall. A sign was gestured with his fingers, tiger! The soles of his feet began to radiate the natural energy known as chakra. Almost like a crane landing softly on the pond, his feet met the water on the other side of a large estate.

There was nothing weaker than a man with something to lose. That's why the hit towards Yosuke was placed, a man who holds so many priceless importance to his leader, of course the leader would attempt anything in his possession to get rid of him. But the family had a code, a strict one at that. The man has already paid the price, did his due and was released into that life of normalcy he decided to have. Proper 12 began to pace peacefully on top of the water, walking ever closer to a large, almost historically traditional minka home. Lavished with an exuberant amount of flair, dark oak flooring and boarding with a florescent sakura tree standing in the middle, couple of guards standing watch. Proper 12 couldn't help but laugh at the thought, it was almost as if the thrill of breaking and entering was begging to boil his blood and cause him to crave excitement.

"Wait-- is that an intruder? Is he- Is he walking on top of the water?"

"What kind of witch craft-- Call for back up, we have intruders!"

Finally noting his presence, Proper 12's smirk couldn't be held any more, his eyes gleamed with an electrical surge that began to crackle at the image of an upcoming fight. The challenge began. It was time to get rid of one of the lower branch managers. Kaseki explained thoroughly, he was to defeat and eliminate Garou Tachibana, the man who placed a hit on Yosuke for treason to the code, attempting to hide under a feign notion of security, a man who hasn't even been in charge for more than a decade has already gotten a swollen head. It was his job to show them what it meant to fear the family. Luckily, this would double as a mission for the village, maybe he'll go as far as to report him to the police.

His first step started slow, his second began to pick of speed, before you knew it Proper 12 had delivered a full sprint towards the distance. His speed on full display for all to see. The guard quickly formed before him, waiting for his arrival and pointing their weapon at his position. Orbs began to form at his leisure around him, the electricity forming from seemingly nowhere as the orb began to shape into a lance like figure. Proper continued his approach, the lances lunged themselves towards their targets, impaling them! As soon at the were met with its essence, there was no gash nor wound in their bodies, in fact, the lance seemed to have been absorbed by person. However, their motor skills began to malfunction, soon some began to lose balance, others couldn't speak, some even managed to lose their footing and drop their weapons. A soft chuckle peered of Proper's lips, he leaped meeting the distance to begin close-quarters combat.

The flashiness of his skill was at his fullest here, a sequence of quick strikes and kicks were delivered. Mostly towards the temple, chin, diaphragm, gut. Enough to drop their concious upon hit, as more came, the orb continued to dance around and appear, forming spears and lunging themselves to the next enemy, repeating the sequence. Some stood back and began to fire. This is where his speed shone through, one of the orbs rose from the earth itself and instead of becoming a lance, it flew towards the direction of the armed guards, upon coming into range it flashed an incredible bright light. Blinding them all, allowing Proper to shorten the gap, leap and deliver a devastating blow to their stomachs.

Kneeling before the pain, Proper 12 began to dust away and filth that has gotten on his clothes. Looking at the distance, noting Garou through the window as he screamed at a man beside him. Proper 12 shook his head, and the moment their eyes met, Proper gestured to him. Thumb extended and placed at his neck, sliding it left to right, mouthing the words. "Say your prayers" a wink followed. Proper was more than happy to torture this scum a little more before dealing the final blow.

--

"You see Yosuke, there's nothing more fragile than a man with something to lose. That's why, as Garou knows, losing you would be a great impact to his credibility and also, it'll affect his standing. He has too many skeletons in the closet, too much contraband against the family. You're security is assured with me here, that is why we have sent one of our best to take care of him. Don't worry, you and Kikiyo are safe. There will be no more threat to your peace one he's done."

Shocked Yosuke and Kikiyo stared at Kaseki's serious mien as he explained what was happening. Proper 12, the Family's Raijin to take care of the problem. Kikiyo couldn't sustain her happiness, her arms held her fiancee tight as her happiness was displayed through tears. Yosuke was still in awe, but slowly came to, his happiness was beaming as he held his soon-to-be wife tighter than ever. Kaseki took a sip of the tea. Chamomile, guess she was nervous, witnessing the two in an embrace, it was only a matter of time before he'd get the call and the two would finally be absolved of all their troubles.

TIMES IMMEMORIAL: LET BYGONES BE BYGONES

INHERITANCE OF RESPONSIBILITY: TELLTALE OF PROPER HEARTS
Theme: [x]
__________________________________________________________
There circulates a certain distinction between you and the others.
You haven't realized yet-- The certainty and depth of your potential.
Ah... But with such depth, it will attract the covetous hands of those swept by jealousy.
But you are bound to surmount the hardship assiduously...
--For you wouldn't be part of the family otherwise.


The car finally met its destination, halting its engine welcoming the two to their fate, a faint moment of silence embellished the atmosphere. The two huffed their last smoke, allowing its heat to settle in his chest for a bit, the constant flow of the smoke and its trail of heat and taste were left in his mouth, as he exhaled every bit off. Almost like a ritual, he witnessed the bud in his hands and thought for a bit that this was so common that it felt almost ordinary. Every other moment of the day he wouldn't touch the stuff, it felt almost hindering, but there was certainty when it came to moments like these. You would only concentrate on what's at the moment, you would ignore the focus of what's outside and lean on the matter of the instance you were apart. In its own right, this was a moment of tranquility in a sea of worries. The bud signified the end of his solemn pondering, his eyes drifting towards Kaseki, who seemed to have been right at home with the entirety of everything. No more words needed to be exchanged, no more worries needed to be present. Proper 12 opened the door and exited the vehicle, as soon as he departed, no signs of the others were seen--

--

A young couple sat at the precipice of their own peace, perhaps they were around their mid-to-late 20's huddled together as if to sustain each other with their company. Their smiles beamed beyond a shadow of a doubt while the TV blared its lights to menial entertainment. The morning felt peaceful, a life where mediocrity could become a cherished atmosphere, where doing nothing became a commodity for two. Just easing into one another, deeper and in soliloquy, allowing each other a chance to be cared for. But honestly, there is nothing much more fragile than a man with something to lose, witnessing the tightness of the grip of his hands, the man without an ear, Yosuke Katagiri, not a worry in his sight, was the prime target for Proper 12's assignment. A knock on the door awakened them from their bliss, the man parted from his fiance and attempted to moved himself to the source, but the woman, a young soul of brunette waves adorning the style of her locks, eyes of imperial jade and freckles racing through one cheek all the way to the other, gestured him to stay and she decided to go herself.

"I'll pause the movie until you get back."

"If it's one of those damn sales-men again, tell them I dropped my wallet somewhere on the sidewalk and slam the door on their face, Kikiyo. Can't believe I have deal with so many of them a day."

"Not like it really matters, don't go pressing play until I'm back."

The man settled into his bed, placing his hands behind his head and picking up his phone. "Gotcha."

Upon a few more knocks, Kikiyo arrived at the door and proceeded to open it, without much of a thought before the image before her finally registered. For a moment, the world felt like it had halted for her. The very instance that their eyes met was enough to warrant a reaction from her, she attempted to close the door as quickly as she could, only to be met with force of the man standing before her. Her trembling gaze shifted almost a whimper of help, noting the eyes of a man she expected not to see for the rest of her life. "W- W-What are you doing here?" She took a few steps back, placing her hands in her chest almost as a shield, desperately awaiting for a moment where she could run for it, looking for any alternatives to settle this situation. "I see, so he's gone far enough to tell you who I am." The man stood proudly, almost as if that was a wayward thought in his mind, allowing it to surface and be seen without much reprise. "No need to fear, young Kikiyo. My business here is with Yosuke. If he has told you so much as to what my identity is, then you should also know what my business with him might entail, correct?"

"What's taking so long, Kik-"

Yosuke arrived at the scene, and locked eyes with the man at the door, the moment he did he felt a certain fear run across him, a certain amount of anger blended together as well. Why him of all people? "Kaseki..." Kaseki removed his hand from the door, began to adjust his tie for a moment before finally standing straight. Brushing his mustache with the tip of his thumb, two sturdy strokes. A proper man of great and intimidating aura. "May I come in?"

For a moment, Yosuke wanted to scream, he wanted to understand the comings and goings about the life he left behind. He wanted to simply fight off that injustice, witnessing the hue of those eyes before him, of the man known as Kaseki, he knew a couple of things were about to happen today. Maybe this was his attempt of reconciling whatever honor there was in his soul. To leave it without regret, but ultimately, Yosuke stared dead into the eyes of a man he had no power over anymore, sighed away his frustrations and looked at his fiance. The woman known as Kikyo who expected something out of his future husband, but the man couldn't help but laugh at the injustice of it all, placing his hand where his ear used to be. “Sure thing, Kikiyo do you mind making us something to drink? Tea would be fine.”

Kikiyo eyes widened in surprise, she couldn’t really digest everything, her gaze continuously shifted between her soon-to-be husband and Kaseki, trying to piece together what little sense she could make out of everything. Standing between the two, it was almost like some sort of sick joke, her voice trembled, but her frustration pushed the words out of her mouth. "Are you insane?" Turning to Kaseki with new found courage, like a mouse standing before the cat before its last moments, attempting to gnaw away at its fate. "You know what he had to do to get out... Yet, you're here, trying to drag him back. Do you guys have any sense of dignity at all?" Kaseki stood there, looking at the young woman place her heart on her sleeve, his stare unwavering, towering above her frame almost as if gauging her worth. "Quite the opposite, my lady. The last thing I want to do is bring him back. The toll has already been paid. However, it is not my place to decide what actions take place among the family. And well, I'm just here to help someone finish a job they have left undone for quite awhile. After all..." Kaseki's gaze shifts towards Yosuke, who seems to be shielding himself as best he could from his own thoughts. "Yosuke is important."

Nothing as frail as a man with something to lose.

Those words uttered in Yosuke's head repeatedly, something the family repeated to him constantly. A warning, perhaps... not for the people they targeted, but for themselves. To wane in fruitless activities would result in action being taken by the family, Yosuke thought he had a method of escape, he thought about all the steps he had to take, an how all of this started. Looking into the eyes of his fiance, however gave him the hope to pursuit something greater, something that didn't involve the usual routine of brutality and pointless violence. The day to day of every criminal, the constant back and forward between the victims and the police, the Shinobi's on their asses everyday attempting to claim his life. Yosuke still felt a sense of fealty however, there were times where the family provided security, it was like it says... a family. A place he could return to, so it would make sense why they would feel betrayed. The family is still an organization, a myriad of people all joint together for a useless cause, but now? What was it all worth? In the end, Kikiyo's life was in danger, and taking on Kaseki would inevitably result in the lives of both of them. It would be swift, it would be easy, but most of all it would as if death itself came to pick them up. There would be not trace of his presence here, there would no life to tell their tale. I would almost be as if the two never existed in the first place.

"Don't give me that shit... If you're after his life, then--"

"Kiki."

Yosuke's voice interjected, a smile peering from his lips. "It is what it is." Kikiyo failed to understand, she really couldn't understand what was Yosuke's submissiveness over the matter, she wanted to yell at him, but his eyes were resolute. Just thing morning they were together, it's been months since his detachment... Why? Why didn't they think further? They needed to run away, very far away. To a place where the two could've lived in peace, but she knew deep inside that it wouldn't work. Kaseki stood there patiently, witnessing the couple finally break, their spirits almost lost in their own folly. "May I come in?"

"...Please do."


All the post so far have been very entertaining to read.

Can't wait to see what else you guys got in store for your personal arcs.
TIMES IMMEMORIAL: LET BYGONES BE BYGONES

INHERITANCE OF RESPONSIBILITY: TELLTALE OF PROPER HEARTS
Theme: [x]
__________________________________________________________
There circulates a certain distinction between you and the others.
You haven't realized yet-- The certainty and depth of your potential.
Ah... But with such depth, it will attract the covetous hands of those swept by jealousy.
But you are bound to surmount the hardship assiduously...
--For you wouldn't be part of the family otherwise.


To move a person's spirit, the first thing you have to abide by is their sense of self.

Realizing such, you begin to weave the commonalities between them and what's real. To understand a person, you first need to walk a mile in their shoes. That's one thing reality takes for granted most of the time. Sometimes, understanding becomes a burden due to the faculties we have to dismantle. Fairness becomes a tipping scale of the foundations that build us up, the beliefs that sustain the person battling against what we're willing to dispose of. Sacrifice becomes a constant, a word used to both excel human achievement, while simultaneously servicing them long enough to make them slaves of their own pursuits. How much is too much? How much have you already left behind? How much are you willing to give up to become the hero?

That question beckons wildly upon our person, at one juncture in our youths we've all had time where we dreamed about soaring, about savoring the skies. About experiencing the freedoms of limitless potential. A time where fear didn't rule our steps, where our feet traversed the future with the subtlety of the tenuous breeze. Assiduously facing our realities as if they were the stars. But with time we understood that some dreams and aspirations are far more translucent than ours, that their light eclipses our skies. And soon the sea of possibilities becomes but a quaking, anxious sprint-- A sprint for a finish line that seems to get progressively farther, a finish line so that we could know happiness. Some reach their goal, others slowly stem away their desires and abide by what's comfortable. Nothing assuages hope more than natural incapability. Some are great, other become great, but most are just ordinary. A statistic

And now a days, a statistic... is nothing more than a fraud.

Old man Kaseki was an enigma, at best. If we were to say that he is the family's lap dog, that in itself would be a dishonor for the family. Kaseki fulfilled his role, whatever it was to a proper end. Everything from his stance, to his breathing, to the gait of his step exudes natural charisma and purpose. The scent of glamoured cologne and suit ironed to perfection, not a single wrinkle at notable view would ultimately tell the man's habitual need to present himself eloquently. Even at this juncture where his only purpose was to escort me to the designated location, his focus didn't waned in the slightest. He was more like a polished gun, something the family took pride in, exuberantly so. He would be called for the utmost critical task, and he would even speak to the heads without much hesitation. Some say that his fealty and record has gained the trust of even members who's name are hidden behind a security wall. Kaseki wasn't a man who spoke much outside of that... As far as their relationship went, Kaseki was no more different than a stranger.

"I heard you skipped the graduation." -The old man spoke, offering the door to the youth who seemed to be lost at his own thoughts. The black vehicle almost seemed standard from the previous one, a quick look at the license plate would tell that this wasn't the case but simply assuming that they wouldn't replace it at will would be foolish. Entering the car, Proper 12 sat across the old jaded man, who signaled the driver to move before putting his seat belt on.

"Yeah. What of it?" Proper 12 wasn't really in the mood to follow up. But at the same time he felt no harm in hiding such oblivious nonsense from the family, especially Kaseki who was always three steps ahead. "Treat you victories like your last, Proper 12. You're only 21, before you know it life has passed you by and all you'll be left with are the regrets of not doing something better." The very moment those words began to even surface into his space Proper 12 felt a long, winded sigh escape his throat. "It's almost like you think that I had a choice in the matter." Proper 12 responded without as much as looking at the man in the eyes.

"How long have I been at this bullshit? Since 18? Graduation was a certainty the moment I went through those doors. It's almost as if they hand crafted my very life for fighting and survival, huh? Not to rain on your logic there, Kaseki, but after a couple history books, some bullshit alien theory and three useless courses about jutsu, you pretty much know how everything else is gonna pan out. If graduation is a means to celebrate achievement, then sorry to say, I didn't really feel I earned anything. The rest is really walking on eggshells." Kaseki remained silent, pondering how ignorance could be so bliss.

"The family will benefit from this. Having someone with access can aid us in the long run. Just be sure to get recognized long enough to make it to Chuunin." Kaseki pulls out a smoke and offers it to Proper 12, who accepts it without a second thought. Silence over took them for a second, the thoughts were void and nothing really peered through. This was as standard issue as it could get. He would be called out on a random occasion for work and he needed to arrive, regardless of the circumstances. Thus was the nature of their deal, no matter the cost.

"How's Yosuke doing?" Kaseki didn't speak as he lit a smoke of his own. "His ear's doing better. The boss didn't take too kindly to his sudden departure, so obviously the standard wouldn't suffice. After cutting his ear off, it would be enough to relieve him of his standing and of any correlation with the family. However, someone like Yosuke wasn't your ordinary type of man. He held secrets and position. Of course, a man with the name Iron Wall would herald respect form his peers. Bastard had to let himself get caught with his heart... Nothing as frail as a man with something to lose." Kaseki inhaled once more, and led out a long, hefty exhale. Proper 12's eyes seemed distracted, as if he already knew the answer to his question. As the time kept nearing, getting closer and closer to the location point.

"I guess getting rid of the trash has always been my job." Proper 12 said almost solemnly, taking one last smoke and pressing the bud onto the ash tray in the middle of the two. "But I guess this is how it has always been. When your plans get in the way of the brighter ones, you going to get snuffed out by those with the power to do something about it." Kaseki couldn't really find the words, so he decided to pull out a card he had hidden in the inner pocket of his blazer. Proper 12 opened it, and when he read the details of its contents, he couldn't help but to break into a laugh.

"What the hell? This has to be some kind of sick, pathetic joke."

"I'm afraid it isn't."

"Out of all the dumb--"

Proper 12. Of course, you find yourself reading these instructions. Although I specifically made it clear to Kaseki to explain the details carefully, I cannot rule out the possibility of Kaseki's own sense of justice to intervine with the full abidance of regular procedures. So instead, I will give you the details in the most direct means possible. Get rid of Yosuke Kataguri's fiance.


"Like I said, Yosuke's important."

"Yeah, I just find it funny. You build up your name through code and honor, even among petty criminals and then you point your gun at them so they know who calls the shots around here. If we were to base ourselves over fear, I guess we wouldn't be any different than those pigs at the police station."

"We have an assignment."

"I know. But just keep in mind, I'm officially a shinobi now, can't let my record be stained so easily."
TIMES IMMEMORIAL: LET BYGONES BE BYGONES

INHERITANCE OF RESPONSIBILITY: TELLTALE OF PROPER HEARTS
Theme: [x]
__________________________________________________________
There circulates a certain distinction between you and the others.
You haven't realized yet-- The certainty and depth of your potential.
Ah... But with such depth, it will attract the covetous hands of those swept by jealousy.
But you are bound to surmount the hardship assiduously...
--For you wouldn't be part of the family otherwise.


An otherwise unfortunate event.

A boy, coughing and panting in an attempt to reach tranquility- no, safety. Perhaps even in the clutches of these moments the boy knew that something was sustaining him to breathe. A will of iron, or perhaps a clinging necessity to live, whatever it was it gripped his senses tight and sustained his consciousness enough to remind him that he needed to stay concious. That the moment he closed his eyes was the moment that he rescinded his turn at life. But the calmer he attempted to become, the more potent his anxiety became. As if it was a defense mechanism for its own survival, it intensified and grew potent. Sending warning signs towards the body, refusing to be quelled when the means called for an escape. Bellowing, beckoning for a form of freedom from danger! His feet were delved to his knees upon a sinkhole of water. Three men, dressed rigorously in a suit and tie stood at the other side, witnessing with expectancy. A hand-sign was formed and one of the men, once again, thrusted his hand withing the body of water. The child winced at the sight, attempting to scream as plea, but was met with a electrical surge. His body was writhing in pain! Screams of agony began to encompass the area, adorn the silence and replace it with harsh reality.

"I've seen your potential, ********. You'd best show result. If not, this place will inevitably double as your grave." The words were met again with wails of dread. With each passing second, the boy could feel his body submit itself to a current of electricity. His heartbeat grew faster, the tightening and spasm of muscle tissue began to cause his bloodstream to feel like it was boiling under the pressure. Tears began to form on his eyes before desperation settled in. "I-- I c-c-c-can't! P-please---STOP!" The men stared indifferently, almost showing a certain impatience with the child. One of the men tilted his and gave a command, and the electricity grew in potency. At this juncture the boy couldn't remain at his feet causing him to stumble to his knees and diving his hands into the water. "Sir, don't you think this is a bit much?" The man spoke, perhaps finally sensing a slight inkling or remorse for what they were doing to a boy no older than eleven. The head, a man wearing a white suit and tied, red accents at the edges and hair slicked back into a proper style, observed carefully.

"No. Humanity, people as a whole tend to display their potential when met with an uncomfortable situation. Whether or not this child is aware of it, he is sustaining enough electricity to cause any trained adult to die in a couple of minutes. He might not aware of his gift, but if we push him a bit. I can sense that the Family, will have a very potent ally in its hands." The man spoke with conviction as he looked at the boy, who's eyes were begging to shift between fear to anger, perhaps hatred even.

"Come now *********, don't become another statistic."

---

Sweat drenched the bed, his breathing was heavy and his headache was causing his vision to blur. Another dream, or more so a nightmare. He tried to shake off the sensation and check the time, seems he managed to at least make it through the night this time. Just an hour early than what he's used to however. The morning routine started, getting dressed and eating the usual. Dealing with that infernal noise the refrigerator always does. He found out the milk was spoiled, seems one of the hinges rusted off and the door remained opened during the night. Meaning most of the food in there was spoiled rotten at this point. A quick whiff was enough to secure his worries and immediately he found himself throwing everything in the dumpster. What a way to start the morning. The neighboring stray cat came by once again to deliver his greeting, poised at the window sill awaiting the usual scraps, but unfortunately he didn't have anything to give him. A half-smile was replaced on his mien, walking towards the window and petting the cat, giving a gentle stroke.

"Guess we're all down on our luck, today." The dream was still fresh on his mind, definitely due to today's schedule. He needed to visit them again, another job perhaps and one that he wasn't too fond of. With his enrollment into the academy he could sense that this was gonna be constant. However, the toll to his patience wasn't something he really cared to give much thought about. His rest time varies between favors and usual meetings. Getting by through mission is easy work, but the pay is slim against, let's say, a Jounin.

The skies were not different than the people who lived on the land, even though Amegakure was the Flying Terminal of the Skies, wealth wasn't a guaranteed. There people still rummaging to keep their homes intact, living the lower portions especially, always getting greeted by the not so subtle hums of the generators extracting chakra fuel to keeps the engines running. The only moment of peace is during the times you go to visit topside, or when the village decides to dock. Either way, after some time silence become a concern, you get used to the hums so readily that your brain forgets that it exist sometimes. The thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound a knock on the door, the youth quickly got dressed and went to greet it, only to be met with the young lady who works at the reception of the complex.

"Mr...12?"

"Proper 12."

"Yes, yes. Mr. Proper 12, correct? We just got a call for you, uhm... They didn't really specify a name either, but they said that you're running late already. And to hurry up and come home."

A sigh escaped him. Their meeting was suppose to be in an hour, but it seems like their impatience it taking the better of them. A shrug followed "Oh, sorry. Proper 12? What kind of name is that? Actually, my name's Salvador Aihara. They probably got the wrong number, you can tell them sorry from my part, love. Cheers~" He closed the door without much hesitation afterwards. The girl, flabbergasted by his response knocked again, Proper 12 didn't seem to care to answer this time as he attempted to figure out what to eat. Most of the food has gotten rotten and there was just s few sweets taking up residence in the counter. He didn't have much of a sweet tooth and less in the mornings so--

*knock,knock,knock,knock*

It was starting to get aggravating, Proper 12 decided to walk again and open the door, this time to be met with a tall burly old man he was far too familiar with.

"...Good to see you, Kaseki."

"Likewise. Salvador Aihara." Dressed with prestige and flair, a trimmed mustache and eyes of vivid turquoise. The man whom has served as Proper 12's guardian and mentor, Kaseki has arrived at his door.


With such, Proper 12's reaction softened from annoyance to near shy embarrassment. "I suppose you know, why I'm here."

"'Cause, we haven't seen each other in awhile and you decided to come and see me?"

"I don't recall you being that young lady I met the other day at the bar."

"Funny, Kinda how like I don't recall inviting you here today."

"But you know how these people are. I requested to be your guide through this. But, you must make it so you keep to your wits, Proper 12. Now hurry up and get ready. We have placed to be."

@TheSoulTaker The man, the myth and the legend.

KO is accepted. You can add him up to the character tab.
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