Death Knell (Moved)

[Tsutsubell]

(moved)

Mizu no Kuni Outskirts;
Ruined City Wastes;
Trasim's Cave.




   He moved briskly, strangely cautious of the light, shimming between shadows even in the dull dusk of a day's ending. It seemed he had no form, only because nothing he wore lung tightly to him, more so a series of clothes and fabrics, and not all of the same cut, either. Some layers bore tattered clothing, while others formed in smooth cottons, never silks. The hood was the same, fat and pulled down into drooping folds of blackish browns and even darker textures. A series of strips, torn into well crafted lines like a shaking fence which further hid whatever face lay below. As he hopped and swerved, the strips moved, shaking so as almost to reveal some feature of a man, but never giving quite enough. Sleeves fell into long trunks, wide also with flowing girth. Torn strips here as well, more so behind his arm than in front of it. Those hid his hands, and rendered him invisible towards personal identification. Nothing around could recognize him, and it was more or less the opposite on the other end. This phantom of the broken lands moved with a mastered experience. He'd been here before, knew the grooves and tucked away nooks.

   Around him the world was broken, war torn, blasted into shattered bits. Remnants of an older culture lay in chaotic clutter, massacred by the same force which later created The Mist's village. Thick clouds of fog, porous to the light, swallowed up whatever remaining light the day could offer, casting the floor into a premature darkness. Long stretched shadows now nearly blended in with the rest of the landscape. But this place, this ruined city, was not nearly as inconsequential as one might think. It was just as much Kirigakure's wall as any other structure or landmass. A first layer of traps, killing off anyone unfamiliar or unsuspecting. Only someone who knew the area could move with such confidence, entering rather random stone made structures, and continuing through whatever obstacle lay before him, a known safe passage through this section of Mizu no Kuni.

   It was about thirty or so minutes before this man came across a clearing, shoveling himself through a small hole which might have been kicked through. Barely large enough for but one person to climb through at a time, and no doubt rigged to counter breaking the path in force. There, the wreckage was greater than anywhere else. He could longer even detect the skeletons of structures of defenses. Everything here was torn apart and strewn around in random order. Although it certainly didn't look to be made of wood, a tree, thin and sickly, rose from the courtyard's center. Its skin was black, and it almost looked carved, or burned. Ashen, but firm, even in its frailty.

   Behind that was a cave. A very particular cave, guarded only by large, stacked boulders. He could feel it now, almost taste it on the air now. The scent of something too supernatural to appear before all. Something aroused only by a particular breed of people. Razor sharp grins, honed with blade like teeth met that oncoming belch of darkness, giving themselves permission to enter as they pleased. Placing a palm against one of the aforementioned boulders and clenching just a bit, he crushed the whole thing at once, sending a static array of cracks up its surface and breaking it apart from the inside. When it fell, it did so as thousands of smaller pieces, nearly pebbles, breaking apart and parting for him as he neared. A fowl breath of air sucked in from the cave, an odd sensation as if everything around was swelling and on the verge of bursting. All at once, as if in inhale then exhale, this stranger's robes tossed about in whatever direction they were pulled.


"I think it sees us, brother."
"Perhaps you're right..."


   Before the gaping hole of a cave's entrance, and still very much caught up in whatever ominous winds tugged at him, the man with two voices clapped hands together and formed a very unique seal; entirely unlike anything commonly used in ninjutsu practice, and not entirely balanced either. For the first time, something from behind the shaded slabs of fabric felt purely characteristic of a face. Eyes, forged in a furious yellow. With a similar gravitational distortion to what lay before him, each voice simultaneously hummed in some whispered incantation. Pulling his arms apart, sleeves gave way to a pale skin, under which lay blackened veins as if diseased. Skin broken like marble seemed more like the consistency of scar tissue than ordinary dermis.


WhO Do yOu BRinG BefOrE ME, cReATurE!?
"You might not speak so unkindly to your own son, god of men."
"Indeed, indeed, you're so unkind!"

WHaT gAMe iS tHiS, FIlTh!?
"Oh--!! Brother, I've waited so long to meeet hi--!"
"Silence, we'll begin soon."
"Y-Yes, of course, of course, kueheheheheehee!!"


   With hands which fell like roots to the ground, literally bending at the knees so as to plant palms into the splintered rock beneath him. Not two, but four arms were there, another set having joined the first, adjoined at the shoulders though one of them bare, thin, and of the same pale consistency as the first. Like a spider, they curled out from around him and began to bore themselves into the dirt, fingers scraping until bloodied in an effort to submerge. Fingernails bent back and snapped before rock's unforgivably stubborn form, creasing before actually snapping off and bleeding. The grit of sharp rock and other grime stung as it pressed against cuts and lacerations. It wasn't until the first few joints of each four hand's fingers were buried that they began to swell and throb. Sweat bubbled from any vacant pours which did not already yield blood, taking an odd form and spreading into the earth below like a series of roots.


"You see, we've been waiting to meet you, gracious father."
"We've been waiting for so long!"
"You see, it is you who shall give us our master back."


   There, only a few feet ahead, the ground began to swell and grow bloated as if something grew just under the surface. It only felt natural when something finally broke through, a long stretching arm of dampened oak, wooden grains expanding and breaking apart until an entire tree took form. At least, something like a tree. Eyes, in thick patches, surrounded the trunk and many of the branches bore fruit. Horrible fruit, shaped like various faces, colored with rot of various degrees. Thick lips lay at the tree's base, spread thin and pressed together.


JInMenJu...
"Indeed, and on this day he be bares a particularly rare fruit."
"Hueheheehee!! Let me taste it--"


   When the tree spoke, it felt much more akin to whatever voice came from the cave. Its language was not at all of one world and could not be translated into anything widely understandable. More so a display of emotional moans, all on a lower key, and without the presence of obvious intelligence. Each of the faces upon this trees fruit were smiling, some of them even laughing, though none of them looked natural. Some were nearly covered in decay until the face was torn apart on one side. Others were distorted in different fashions, noses broken and to the side, eyes made into dug out holes. Tugging at the ground and breaking his tether to it, the man yanked all four arms from that desolate surface and rose to pick the fruit closest to him. A strange fungus covered its head in green mold, and the smile looked as if on the edge of laughter. Closed eyes were shaped with something like a scab, and the rest seemed sticky with a fragrant puss.


JUUsHoN... DOuKOn... hOW hAvE YOu cOMe aCrOSs JInMeNJU?

[Tsutsubell]

Akumoichi sat, perched on the outside of the cave of a shambled and wobbling chair as he felt the acrid chakra waft past him like a hot breeze on a brittle summer day, the scent of rotting flesh hung like a heavy cloud and he hummed a soft tune he heard once from a traveling merchant. A long pipe rested between his pursed lips and he took a long slow drag of sweet sulfuric smoke. Tilting his head he gazed to the torn landscape, jagged with debris and a long hanging cloud of smoke and dust that always seemed to rest on the horizon, only to sink into the pitted bowl of the city with the thick fog that came with night.

It was a truly beautiful day.

He didn’t usually accompany people inside of the cave. Akumoichi was the groundskeeper, and had seen it more times that the horrific sight became poignant beauty for him, just as entertaining, just as calm as the bloom of any fruit bearing tree might be. He pulled the pipe from his lips, watching acrid puffs of white smoke curl over his nose and dissipate, a small smile pulling on the corners of his thin lips as he heard the wails that came from the fruit, such an ancient voice speaking to him in tongues he didn’t understand, but felt its intention in his soul. It was a connection that transcended language, and stemmed only from hundreds of years of dutiful service.

Jinmenju saw potential in Juukon and Doukon. So he would serve them as well. ”Everyone will be in a good mood today.” He commented to the open air, bringing the pipe back to his lips and leaning his arms back. His frail frame cracking loudly, pale skin showed translucent pale blue, purple veins and he let his white hair fall into his face. There was a time once, he thought he mind have had black or brown hair but that had long since aged, turned white as the years ticked on. His eyes closed and he smiled, still listening to the gleeful, insane wailing laughter that came from the fruit. Such cute sounds, like they were the sounds of a happy baby. ”Well fed and happy. I love days like this. He ran long, bony fingers through his white hair, flecks of dried blood from Jinmenju’s last ‘meal’ still clumped and knotted his hair. He didn’t care, and only messed with it idly. ”I think…I want lamb. Lamb sounds good today.”

He had nothing much else to do but wait for the two to exit from the pit Akumoichi called home. It was the time to be idle and simply let the boys do their bidding. So he could sit back, enjoy the carnal scenery and smoke. The simple things in life that gave him pleasure, if only the rest of the world could be so lovely.

[Coconutly]

Like an apparition, he appeared not far from his seated accomplice. Not a displacement of dirt beneath his feet nor a single breath could be heard upon his arrival. Cloaked in silence, he stood - a hulking figure hooded in black that draped across the full length of his shoulders and down to his wrists and ankles. His face, neck, and torso were also shrouded in black fabric making the blood-shot bright yellow-green pupils peering through the shadow all the more apparent. Although he projected no sound, his ominous presence exuded such intensity to cause a shinobi to cringe or a civilian to crumble.

One solid step after the other Dorumashin moved forward until he was standing beside the Shadow Guard. The smoke wafting around the white haired man prodded at his nose and the high pitched whistling pricked at his ears. How irritating... He never once awarded him with a glance, only kept his eyes forward and focused on what otherworldly affair took place just out of sight. The top of the etherial tree could be seen above the ruins and debris. Its curdling screams and hysterical laughter could be heard echoing through the cave's cavernous maw - a language known only by demons and the dead. 

"How much longer?" As man of few words, Dorumashin introduced his presence with a short and impatient question. His voice rumbled in a deep tone, vibrating through in his broad chest. Having traveled from his perched watch over the gates of Kirigakure, he had important news to deliver to his master and he didn't want to waste time conversing.

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