Time For Some Real Rping

[Ravage Nocturne]

((Assuming that something had been previously going on, so it's not "Oh, look who happened along"))

Standing before the other Chuunin, the young man curls his thin lips into an interested smile, arching an eyebrow in skeptic concern. He was of alabaster skin, the kind of pale that you see from paintings of the old days, where such paleness was comparable to linen sheets, and considered beautiful. His jawline, accentuated through his thinness, stood long, and thus lenghtened his countenance, void-like eyes blankly staring towards the other, as a deft hand and supple fingers rise to intertwine the tips of each finger with strands of his unkempt, platinum blonde hair.

Wearing an interesting form of traditional Uchiha garb, the young man portrayed a sense of deviance with his apparel. A tall collared shirt, loose-fitting and swimming upon the slender frame of the boy, dividing into two elongated strands of cloth in the front and back after being tied at the waist with a purple sash -forming a bow-like knot at the small of his back-, each outlined with a golden cloth, the Uchiha clan symbol neatly stitched near the bottom of each cascading side of the material. Right arm bare, sleeve lacking and revealing his shoulder, held nothing other than a black wristband with a small, silver skull imprinted into the cool leather, stitches tracing the ends of the leather. His left arm boasts a sleeve that falls to the bend of the elbow, a black glove exposing his fingers noticeably harboring a thin sheet of steel with the symbol of the Hidden Village of Sound carved into it with some considerable skill.

Wind tossing his bangs about his pronounced forehead, his eyes spin into crimson as he holds out his hand, curving his fingers inward to encourage approach. Fingernails painted purple, the same color that outlines his eyelids and hairband, he motions some more before leaning against a nearby tree, bringing a toothpick to his lips, and placing it between them. Chewing thoughtfully, he glances over to the Chuunin, and sneers.

"You honestly have no idea how outmatched you are, do you? This is our third encounter today, and our third time to prove my dominance over a mutt like yourself...coming from no one family heritage...such a waste of precious materials."

He mutters coolly, dropping his hands into the pockets of his form-fitting black pants that neatly tuck into a pair of black leather boots, shinobi-esque with its revealing of the toes and heels. Removing his left hand, he carefully removes from his back, behind a very long, purple scarf around his neck, a tattered crimson ribbon, carrying a beautiful sheath. Drawing forth a blade without a guard, and hardly a handle, he holds the surprisingly thin grip between his index and middle finger, and skillfully whirls it around each knuckle, the five-foot blade spinning black and purple in the sunlight. Grasping the golden handle tightly within a fist, he directs the nodachi towards the Chuunin, and smiles.

"So then, if you're so lusting another taste of failure, feel free to indulge upon this feast. There's plenty to go 'round, mutt."

Standing full height, he sighs into the cool atmosphere, and stabs his weapon into the softened earth, as rain begins to fall, flattening his hair to his skull, and washing the purple paint from around his eyes and fingernails.

"For every drop of blood of yours I spill, another drop of wrath shall further my purpose."

[Wow, apologies for all this...I really am getting rusty. I haven't RPd in months. 'scuse it, and just go along, if you would! Oh, anyone else, feel free to spectate. ; ) I wouldn't suggest getting involved, as neither character should tolerate it]

Edited May 27, 2006 by Ravage Nocturne

[Maelstrom]

Lips curved into a malicious grin, the boy merely exhaled in the form of sigh at the others cold remarks, closing his eyes. "Hmph, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that none of our previous encounters ended without incident. The first in the square, and the second up on that field. It seems the locals don't take very kindly to violence in their happy little neighborhood." he replied, leaning just a tad to his left before extending both arms forward to reveal a menacing weapon of formidable size, continuing on for another seven feet from his hands. It was a glaive, pure and simple in design, with no markings of any sort aside from a single piece of red fabric, tied just below its terrifying blade, which itself resembled the shape of a flame in its obscurity.

Short, crimson hair danced across his forehead in the breeze, hiding the intensity in his similarly colored eyes, a look of determination falling over his pale-gray features. He wore loose fitting clothing, nothing extravagant in the least, but suitable for the abnormaly warm weather of the season. A black shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, matched by a typical pair of black pants tucked into a sequence of bandages flowing down the knee and into a pair open toed sandals. Similar bandages adorned his forearms as well, fitting snuggly around his palms. Black, fingerless gloves completed the outfit with a much needed sense of flair.

"Now then..." Ikimichi Tabuto started, digging his right foot into the ground. "Enough small talk." and with that, he had already taken to the sky, bounding relentlessly upon his adversary, weapon trailing over his head in preparation for a crushing blow.

[Ravage Nocturne]

Inhaling sharply, he surges Chakra into his eyes, dispelling the crimson Sharingan, and revealing his more typical eyes once again.

"Pff...with such tactless maneuvers I won't even need it this time."

He mutters quietly, an icey tone overlaying his soft voice, the kind that sends chills down your spine when you hear it; the kind of voice that feels as though its laced with some kind of poison.

Pressing both his hands onto the sodden earth, he explodes into a catapult-like jump, somersaulting over the gap that divided the two, and with precision and some meticulous calculation, lands square atop the blade of the other, nimbly crouching upon the flatness that suspends him mid-air.

Curling his right arm towards his body, he begins to seal with his hand, fingers dancing and contorting into various positions, suppleness perhaps preventing excruciating results. First, the sign of the dragon, followed by the sequence of snake, boar, rabbit, and finally, the tiger.

Holding out his arm palm up, he releases a small butterfly of Chakra, tinted purple, allowing it to flutter about the Chuunin, in a bothersome yet harmless fashion, as he dismounts from the blade, in an acrobatic flip of sorts. Spinning his nodachi around his fingers, he sheaths it quickly, and ties the crimson ribbon around his upper torso in a horizontal manner, cloaking it beneath his tattered, purple scarf, and holding it closely to his back with the bow of his sash.

"I'll further wager that I finish you without use of my own weapon."

He admits harshly, smirking in the way that is commonly seen in those 'asshole' kind of people; the people that would laugh if someone tripped up and got hurt. Brushing aside a bang with the back of his hand, he blows to gently lay it in place, eyes closed, until he opens his left one, staring into the eyes of Tabuto.

"Ever since I journeyed to the Rice Country, you've been so violent. Ever since I joined the academy of Sound, you've figured me for this 'bad guy' of sorts. You're the cause of our damaged friendship, not me. I merley sought greater training, more growth from my latent potential. You were greedy, and wanted me back. It's not my fault you can't live without me~"

He laughs lightly, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.

"Then, perhaps there is some truth in what you speak. Maybe I have taken a little pit of a downward spiral for granted..."

He admits, honestly not caring one way or another. He had no real fascination with power or dominance, but instead, lusted for that kind of adventure you can only get when you risk it all. When you betray others, for that sense of realism and pride. When you surrender everything you hold dearest, and play to chance. Let the chips fall where they may, this was real life. Nothing but a gamble, and that's where the real soul thrives

"But you know, if you don't have that killer intent, you won't land one hit on me. I'll make a bet with you, in fact. I don't believe you have the cunning means to transcend into the level of despisement you'll require...so then, I'll wager whatever you wish on that you can't touch me by the time I'm through having my fun with you."

He offers, smiling in his 'asshole' manner again, folding his arms before his chest.

"What do you say?"

He inquires, insinuating the offer be taken either way, and seeming to invite further attack, and less wordplay.

[Maelstrom]

"Shi..!" he cursed under his breath, halting his swing mid-way before the blade hit the ground. A slight chuckle then escaped from his pale lips as he met the Uchiha's steadfast gaze with his own, the right side of his mouth curving into a crooked smile. "Hah, is that what you really think?" he inquired, smile fading into a grin. He flipped the elongated handle of the glaive between his fingers as if it weighed next to nothing in his hands, crossing it between the two in a slow, but fluid motion. A low hum could be heard rising from the blade. "You have no idea."

Following through the direction of the glaive, the boy grasped the handle loosley between his hands, seperated but a foot apart from the other as he swung the blade downward. An attack that would have taken the Uchiha no effort to avoide, but a distraction that had served its purpose well, none the less. Using the weight of the blade to his advantage, Tabuto catapulted himself into the sky, spinning into the air until his back was then facing the earth...

((Dinner time. Will finish soon.))