Post by jamie on Nov 25, 2007 21:01:03 GMT -5
His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked around, seeing the trio of bandits who wanted all of his prized possessions. Well, wouldn’t they be disappointed when they realized this young boy wouldn’t just roll over and play dead for them? He didn’t make a move, it wasn’t his way to attack first, to do so was to reveal capabilities before your opponent showed their hand. Though he did produce a pair of steel rods which he immediately dropped into the ground, sticking up a few inches from the soft surface.
Though they were confused, it didn’t delay them taking action. One katana wielder moved forward and aimed to slice across Nodaime’s stomach, hoping to spill his intestines quickly and get their loot before too much ruckus was caused, and they got caught because of it. But something he couldn’t fathom stopped the blade, one of the rods had deflected it, held by a massive hand formed of …sand?
The other rod leapt forward, also guided by a stream of sand, crashing into his abdomen, then coming back down and cracking across his skull. All while Nodaime calmly stood there, his arms now uncrossed, and in a relaxed fashion, guiding the hands in their strikes and movements. Both then came to rest at his side, as the other two decided a double team was the best way to go.
Two broad swords sliced through the air, one moving to take him out low, the other high. They thought that if the two rods were kept busy, then maybe they had a chance to get a blow in. And sure enough, as they predicted, the hands moved to protect their wielder, stopping their swords, even as the one crouching prepared to take Nodaime’s knees out from beneath him. That was when he felt a pressure on his waist, looking down and realizing he was caught in another tendril of sand, one that twirled him around and threw him off to the side effortlessly.
A fist landed in the gut of thug number three, doubling him over as Nodaime spun and connected with a round house kick that sent him skidding as well. Still that tendril of sand around number two’s waist tightened, before lifting him in the air, dangling him there like meat in a butcher’s freezer. Cold, black eyes pierced his own, even as the sand tightened, crushing his pelvis and causing him to howl and write in agony. Then came a tendril around his neck, cutting his supply of air off completely, and leaving him there to suffocate in the air.
Number one began getting up, staggering from the force of the blows, then realized he was sinking slowly, and looked down to realize that the sand had become a pit of quicksand, one threatening to pull him down into it’s dark depths for eternity, only after the pressure caused his entire inner body to explode. The second thug was finally tossed to the side, away the scene, and Nodaime still continued to calmly walked away, back to the town where he’d first met the heathens he’d just gotten rid of.
Though they were confused, it didn’t delay them taking action. One katana wielder moved forward and aimed to slice across Nodaime’s stomach, hoping to spill his intestines quickly and get their loot before too much ruckus was caused, and they got caught because of it. But something he couldn’t fathom stopped the blade, one of the rods had deflected it, held by a massive hand formed of …sand?
The other rod leapt forward, also guided by a stream of sand, crashing into his abdomen, then coming back down and cracking across his skull. All while Nodaime calmly stood there, his arms now uncrossed, and in a relaxed fashion, guiding the hands in their strikes and movements. Both then came to rest at his side, as the other two decided a double team was the best way to go.
Two broad swords sliced through the air, one moving to take him out low, the other high. They thought that if the two rods were kept busy, then maybe they had a chance to get a blow in. And sure enough, as they predicted, the hands moved to protect their wielder, stopping their swords, even as the one crouching prepared to take Nodaime’s knees out from beneath him. That was when he felt a pressure on his waist, looking down and realizing he was caught in another tendril of sand, one that twirled him around and threw him off to the side effortlessly.
A fist landed in the gut of thug number three, doubling him over as Nodaime spun and connected with a round house kick that sent him skidding as well. Still that tendril of sand around number two’s waist tightened, before lifting him in the air, dangling him there like meat in a butcher’s freezer. Cold, black eyes pierced his own, even as the sand tightened, crushing his pelvis and causing him to howl and write in agony. Then came a tendril around his neck, cutting his supply of air off completely, and leaving him there to suffocate in the air.
Number one began getting up, staggering from the force of the blows, then realized he was sinking slowly, and looked down to realize that the sand had become a pit of quicksand, one threatening to pull him down into it’s dark depths for eternity, only after the pressure caused his entire inner body to explode. The second thug was finally tossed to the side, away the scene, and Nodaime still continued to calmly walked away, back to the town where he’d first met the heathens he’d just gotten rid of.