Uzumaki Naruto ([info]soon2brokudaime) wrote in [info]amatomneslogs,
@ 2008-12-16 19:28:00
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Entry tags:!log, allen walker, deidara, kyuubi no yoko, lute, sai, tohno shiki

What Remains [OPEN-ish]
WHO: Pfft. Kyuubi no Yoko, Deidara, Sai(ish!), Tohno Shiki, Allen Walker, Lute, ummm, there’s a list? You guys know who you are!
WHAT: Kyuubi destroys the temple. Chaos ensues!
WHERE: Just outside Atia’s Temple.
WHEN: December 15th.
WARNING(S): Death, violence, potential swearing?





Blood and chakra and pain, the air is thick with the scent to Kyuubi.

It smells like freedom.

Past the stench of humanity on the island, past the distant echoes of the beast that has come from the sea (Kindred almost, Kyuubi knows, so of course he had no battle with the thing and did not bother to point out to those who fought it that it wanted their freedom as much as they did. He was willing to let them dig their own graves.) Kyuubi feels more free than he has in some time. His senses are once more unlocked and there is life in this place, renewal and a faltering power, just as there is death, but it is the faltering power which has grasped his attention and it was with an inhuman grin and a wave of five tails that he turned his back on the battle ground and headed north, then west.

A message. This is all he seeks to deliver for now. Just a message.

Pay attention to me witch, I wish to speak with you. It will be face to face.

Of course, it is never that simple. It can never be that simple. Kyuubi does not sigh at the conflict he has been met with. It would be giving them too much credit. Although he did make a mistake in assuming that Deidara at least would have more sense…

Brat.

He pauses, watching Sai roll to a bloody stop several metres away and is aware that on the opposite side Deidara is once more struggling to his feet. And he thinks: Stay down or I will kill you.

He knows it is a lie. But Kyuubi does not lie. (at least to none other than himself)

He can smell Sai’s burning skin from here, the poison of the bijuu’s chakra seeping through flesh. Sinks right to the bone, boy, doesn’t it? And that face is a mask, as ever, past the pain and Kyuubi could be impressed but of course he’s not because Sai has not even had him pause in his stride.

His opposition is negligible.

Kyuubi waits until the boy regains his feet, can hear that heartbeat work and work across the distance that separates, struggling around the crushed ribs, and damaged organs. There is blood pouring from that mouth, from that nose and still he stands, still his hands move through the motions of a Jutsu and Kyuubi tilts his head. This will be the boy’s second death by his hand.

A glutton for punishment. Or is it loyalty?

It does not matter. Sai hardly has time to react at the mass of chakra that sweeps up from the earth beneath him because his eyes were on Kyuubi and Kyuubi himself has not moved and Sai’s senses have been beaten to a dull hum of pain by this skirmish. And Kyuubi is still watching, head tilted, eyes narrowed as the heated mass brings Sai to the ground, as it crushes vertebrae and he hears(feels) the bones pop and the intoxicating freedom rebounds at the scent of renewed pain. Kyuubi knows it is exploding like cut glass through Sai, right before his chakra drives home and forces that heart to burst where it lies still trying desperately to beat in Sai's chest.

And the boy rolls once and only once before going still.

Kyuubi does not need to move any closer to know he is dead.

He pauses for just a breath at another life taken, feels no remorse and then cants his head in Deidara’s direction, eyes white hot and empty and he thinks the man will understand.

This is what I can do to you. Human life means nothing to me.

Effortlessly, he moves towards the temple.





(OOC: Posting order Kyuubi -> Lute -> Deidara -> Allen -> Shiki…?
And ummm for any unfamilair with what Kyuubi can do- take a look here and here if you like? This will be 5-tails and up, to start with. >3
And don't forget to add tags as you join? ^^ )



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[info]demon0fsforzand
2008-12-17 02:18 am (local) (link) DeleteTrack This
Lute could fly without wings, suspended almost by sheer force of will from the unnatural amount of power that surged through him. Now that he had wings, it made flying very different. His heart surged in his chest as his wings beat faster, muscles working in his back and out through parts he never had before coming to this place.

He had spent a lot of time researching bird wings and sitting on his roof watching them fly, wondering if angel wings were anything similar. For the longest time he thought he couldn't fly because they just wasn't strong enough yet, the wings always felt so weak. Though, with the return of their powers it only became that much more apparent that Atia intended on keeping him grounded.

So what good is giving him wings if he wasn't allowed to fly? Lute considered Atia a demon more then a goddess. She enjoyed watching them all suffer, and as far as he was concerned she was poking fun at his bloodline. Teasing him because she seemed to know that he betrayed it, or at least believed he did. First haunting him visions of that head and it's filthy, rotted socket, now this.

Pretend to be an angel because you'll never truly be one, not after the extent of your failures.

Maybe the Holy Blood did run stronger in him though. He'd always seemed to be able to sense the presence of nearby demons. There was a pulse, like a wave of heat that passed through the air that struck a chord against his soul. It sent him immediately soaring up into the air, fighting his way through the writhing tentacled mass. It wasn't anything like he'd ever felt before. Different, completely alien, but it was enough to jar him to attention and make something in his blood roar.

What in the name of Heaven...?

Lute caught that rush of power, and watched the body fall lifeless to the ground. He didn't have a clear definition for what he was seeing, but he could guess.

An other world demon.

No time was wasted as he closed the distance, shooting through the sky and dropping like a bomb in front of Kyuubi, wings flared out behind him and his weapon slung across his shoulder. He did not yet recognize this creature for who and what it truly was, all he could feel was the evil radiating off of it as though it were a physical sensation all it's own. Like pain, only malignant.

The creature from the sea even didn't feel like this, so here is where his attention focused itself. "Not another move demon!"

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[info]artisticbang
2008-12-17 12:20 pm (local) (link) Track This
A taste of blood on his palate, as Deidara lifts his head slowly. His palms are against the ground soon after, pushing himself up. The pain keeps hammering in from the back, then front, and both sides at the same time, cracking his concentration, grinding between his teeth, sticking as stray strands of hair against his bloody face. Vision splinted, he narrows his eyes at Kyuubi.

Ain't gonna give up that easily, Fox.
You can kill them by hundreds and I'll still be here...


He fights the dizziness as he struggles up to his feet and starts to walk towards the Four Tailed, pausing only to wipe a hand over his eyes and spit out a mouthful of blood. It's a fine day for a workout, he thinks as he's shoving a hand into the pouch on his belt, munching on the last remaining bits of clay.

And then, suddenly, in a rush of wind, something lands between them, and Deidara can't help but blink a bit slowly. What the hell?

"OI!" he calls out. "Ya better be careful there--"

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[info]soon2brokudaime
2008-12-17 01:04 pm (local) (link) Track This
He can taste the prelude to Lute’s arrival. The quiet resonance in his chakra sets him apart from the mass of humanity that crawls over the island and Kyuubi is raising his head to follow the other’s descent with what could almost be the barest hint of curiosity.

A head tilt is the only outward reaction to Lute’s landing. Kyuubi knows his name. Kyuubi knows it because Naruto knew it and Kyuubi remembers because those memories had been the boy’s. Now they are his.

And Lute speaks and-

Cliché. It could be cliché only Kyuubi is not entirely familiar with such things. What he does know was that this one has chosen to tab him the same as all the rest and so that flicker of curiosity dies as quickly as it burst to life.

I am what I am, brat. No more. No less.

Demon is a human term. Ill fitted and lacking for what Kyuubi is.

Kyuubi straightens, raising a clawed hand in amused defiance to Lute’s command. Here, have another move. But then there is Deidara behind him, moving instead of staying down and the bijuu can smell his blood above all else and-

Ya better be careful there--

“That one is injured.”

An interruption to Deidara’s sentence. The words came out like cracked granite. Burned and broken. Inhuman because the vocal chords that once would have pushed them forth have been seared and baked beyond repair.

Fix him.”

It is a command of course. Kyuubi can recall clearly Lute’s aid in the battlefield of Before. Helping the wounded as best he could. Helping. And there is one who needs help here, now, just as there is one who is beyond help (Kyuubi does not think Lute’s aid extends as far as the dead.)

And Kyuubi will see Deidara healed.

If only so he can hurt him again, later.

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[info]halftonesaviour
2008-12-17 01:26 pm (local) (link) Track This
Kyuubi no Yoko... The nine-tailed demon fox.

That is what Naruto called it. Frankly, Allen barely cared if it was a demon fox or a vindictive spirit of an abandoned teddy bear, it all boiled down to the same thing. That thing inside Naruto was dangerous, a demon born from malice and hatred in order to bring tragedy to humankind. The two of them were natural enemies, although he doubted that the demon saw him that way. He was probably just a small bird or a rodent in the fox's eyes, a vermin to easily feed on.

Little did he know that their relationship was more of a snake and a mongoose.

Silver threads erupted from his cloak and shredded into the ground like blades, using the resulting leverage to help him land onto the ground with nothing more than a faint tap. His hand rose, the enormous blade spinning in it as if it had no more weight than a feather, and then remained in the position perfect for a cleave.

For a moment, it seemed like Allen was smiling peacefully.

"I've been itching to meet you personally," he uttered as he took a stance, the silver cloak pulling out of the ground and turning formless once more. "Kyuubi no Yoko." His voice was clear and fearless, like a perfect war song of hope on the battlefield filled with despair. "You don't mind if I go before them, do you?"

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[info]killthemeaning
2008-12-17 05:28 pm (local) (link) Track This
Waiting, Shiki stood on a platform of a rooftop far from the temple, watching the chaos, quietly. The gigantic rising tails and the whips of air from around it were terrifying and extreme to the senses, none the less his amplifies ones. As he stared at the beastly apparition from afar, he could tell that the gigantic tails were the strongest parts of it. There were nearly no lines on the edges.

Allen broke free--and Shiki recoiled. Whatever the hell Allen had in his sword that made the line shape that way--it was as unnatural as could be. It reeked of death, even from there. Whatever he was looking at--human or mystic--it was something to be regarded as close to death as his eyes were.

So, Shiki moved, jumping off of the rooftop and sprinting down the street. His blood rushed through his head. His movement was illogical--why on Earth was he getting flush from seeing that sword and eye? Coupled with the demon, Shiki felt a surge of power in his legs that couldn't be defined. Death and murder didn't excite him. They were events that couldn't be avoided. The lines were proof. So, why did he anticipate death? He could cause it, but why did he have the sudden desire to cause it? An unwanted part such as he could only feel surprise at his own desires coming to the surface.

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[info]soon2brokudaime
2008-12-17 05:56 pm (local) (link) Track This
Allen’s arrival is a little unexpected. That chakra is a different sort of clarion call. As is the one that reeks of death and that moves towards them now.

He knows what they will seek to do. What humans have always done; if they cannot control it, they will destroy it. If they cannot wield the weapon for themselves, then it is not permitted to exist. And he grins just a little, eyes on Allen’s sword, burning with disinterest before flicking away, beyond him. Someone else wants this fight. Not kindred but someone who feels a small measure of what he does, in the same was as Deidara can. An appetite for destruction. Kyuubi can smell it.

He knows it because it is inherent in him. Human hatred and malice gave him that, just as human hatred and malice helped form him. Just as human hatred and malice caged him and on the night of his caging, Kyuubi swore that one day soon he would make rivers of human blood. He would make oceans of human blood. He would watch them bleed and those that he did not kill, he would drown in that bloody sea. Humanity would understand then, that whether one is trapped in an ocean of blood or circumstance the sensation of drowning is all the same.

The ocean does not care when one dies. The ocean is not even aware of one’s struggle in its indifference.

He does not bother to answer Allen. He imagines the boy will understand his non-answer better than any he might choose to enunciate. Do as you will. I am not here to talk or play, my purpose is something else. Kyuubi would guess that Allen is better at reading subtext than most and so turns away towards the temple, hyper aware of the life that spills and dies around him. (Slowly dying, everything human, and even that which is not is all slowly dying. There are only a few beings on this island which are eternal.)

A split second later- less than that- his hand sweeps out and behind the motion is a blaze of concentrated force. Pure power in its rawest form (and this is why bijuu are so valuable to humanity Kyuubi knows, because their chakra is raw, untamed, unrefined and so the most perilous of all.)

The temple is no Rashomon gate and the scream of the blinding discharge that slams into the building does not simply collapse it. It incinerates it. And so all within it. Stone is superheated to molten rock which is burned away to nothing more than ash in the space of a heartbeat and around the brilliant explosion of heat and light, Kyuubi remains unmoved, his chakra his own protection, the cloak taking the force of the blast and allowing him to stand firm as the eruption of the shockwave consequent to the blast rattles the earth and land around him.

It is just the overture but it is also his message.

Hear me, witch.

He flexes his claws once, watches the smoke clear with deceptive concentration and waits for the onslaught with an internal smile.


(OOC: Posting order is up? Ish? /o/)

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[info]demon0fsforzand
2008-12-17 07:04 pm (local) (link) DeleteTrack This
This was the part that Lute hated the most about battle, not there was necessarily anything he actually liked about it. Steeled blue eyes flicker over towards Deidara for a moment. The man was alive, he was standing. Inured yes, but sometimes there were things more important. This creature was more then just a flailing mass of limbs. It had power, it had a mind. That made it infinitely more dangerous.

Fix Him.
For all he knew they were friends.

Doubtful, in all honesty, but he still didn't move. Not yet, anyway. As much as he acted like it, Lute was never a lone soldier. As High Priest he was also in command of his mother, The Queen's Royal Magic Army. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers, lives, under his command. As a commander he had to steel himself to the fact that when war came he had to send them in to fight and they wouldn't all be coming back. Choices had to be made and he couldn't save everyone, no matter how hard his heart cried.

Allen's arrival did little to ease his fears. He trusted the boy, believed that the Exorcist would do what was needed, not matter what it was. It was that name that made his heart seize and shock light behind his eyes.

Kyuubi No Yoko.

You-


The priest didn't even have time to truly react before the attack came, and all at once he was thrust back to that day fifteen years ago when Sforzando nearly crumbled under the force of the demon armies. He would close his eyes but it’s already inside. He could ignore it. A quiet rapping in his head, hesitant and distorted. Something like a ghost or the boogey man, but he has known worse, seen worse, been worse than childhood fairy-tales.

The air went heavy with the scent of blood, violence and death. It would always unnerve him, the bitter tang of copper and grimy dust that clings to skin, clothes, essence long after the battlefields were left with crumbling bodies, lifeless black souls maimed and pacified. It wasn't something he’d ever grow accustomed to, no matter how many battles fought. Not like some who always seemed to revel in the scent of dying darkness, carrying it like a decadent cross.

Lute made a promise, that he wouldn't allow this thing to hurt anyone else and he's already failed. He also promised that he would help free Naruto from it. At first he didn't know whether to believe the ninja that something else was at fault. It seemed like to simple an excuse, but he knew what it was like to not have control, to be little more then a puppet.

Dancers of the heavens, six holy beings, draw upon this demon the holy circle, become a star of protection, let the seal be carved and the evil power be contained! The cross upon his brow glowed as holy power surged through him, and he crossed his weapon in front of him so he could focus the spell through the crystalline jewel.


"HOLY SEAL!" Six ghostly spirits erupted through the jewel, beautiful and feminine, hands clasped before them as they cut through the air to encircle Kyuubi. One painted a circle, leaving trails of sigils while the others formed a five point star. The spell seemed like it wanted to be bigger, but Lute reigned it in and shrank it down so it was a localized force around the monster, creating what he hoped would be a strong enough barrier to contain it. At least for long enough to figure out how to destroy it without destroying Naruto in the process.

Edited at 2008-12-17 07:05 pm (local)

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[info]artisticbang
2008-12-18 01:09 pm (local) (link) Track This
The pieces are moving into place. Deidara growls at Kyuubi's words, completely ignoring the guy with wings. He doesn't want to be fixed. He wants the fox to cool the fuck down. And if he won't, Deidara will make him.

But he doesn't say anything. Let them talk, and concentrate on the--

--on the fucking temple it seems. When Kyuubi is reaching, Deidara is running, stumbling to hack up a mouthful of blood but not stopping, shaky steps taking him past the winged thing faster than eye can follow (he still has a little of that chakra left). He hears the words too late, sees the markings practically under his feet as he swings himself in just when the spell takes an effect.

Oh shit--
What the hell is this?


Crouched, few steps away from the fox, he pulls a hand out of the pouch but doesn't do more. It's obvious he's hiding something. --it's a game, on going, tireless. Whatever the winged creature did, it doesn't matter. At least it's a fucking good show. Pretty artistic. But still doesn't matter - little things do when facing death.

"Hey--" he mutters, pausing to lick his blood-smeared lips. "Why the hell are you doing this?"

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[info]killthemeaning
2008-12-18 07:51 pm (local) (link) Track This
Shiki touched down on the ground, a hundred or so meters from the fray. He looked around for good cover momentarily, sidling up against a wall and watching. His blue stained eyes poured out light from his shadowy vantage point, waiting very patiently. The monster was in the realm of his capabilities. It was clearly quick, but it was large. As quick as something was, it remained a huge target. The lines on it would be thick and easy to cut. All he had to do was let the others wear the thing down.

Why did he want to kill it, though? A vague memory of a promise came to mind, but it was lost in his desire to put the thing down. Mixed with simply seeing the demonic monster and its lines was the natural-born love in his mind for combat and killing. The love for feeding instincts and desires had hit him. The confusion of realizing one's urges was hitting him. It wasn't the influence of Tohno Shiki's desires. It was the influence of Nanaya's. He watched, albeit patiently, waiting for the demon to do something of more intense interest to him.

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