Jus' Somma That Trainin'

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Nick
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Tue Jun 30, 2015 10:31 am

Fuhen Stat Training #1 -- Wit #1 Perception and Battle Logistics Even the frog had to return home some time, and after a long month of mission after mission, with a sack heavy with both Ryu bills and coins alike weighing him down as much as his multitude of swords, Fuhen was slowly trudging his way home. He had wandered far and wide recently, seen all sorts of strange people, tasted all sorts of weird foods, and slept with all sorts of men and women alike, and frankly he was getting homesick, missing his brothers, sisters, father, and mother alike. He had been gone quite a while, though it still came as a massive surprise when he saw the village off in the distance, and it seemed not a soul was to be seen. The frog nearly panicked, eyes widening as he took off at a sudden run, coins jingling in his sack loudly, and swords knocking against each other lightly in his sheath as his feet padded across the ground, crunching leaves, squishing wet mud, and probably harming a few innocent earth worms.

He passed the first couple of cabins, and all seemed in order. Birds chirped, crickets clicked, though it still appeared as though nobody was around. Had everyone left while he was gone? He had sent a message ahead of him, letting everyone know he’d be back soon, though he had never received word back… He advanced towards one of the cabins, reaching a hand back over his shoulder, lightly gripping the hilts of one of his multitude of swords, his other hand slowly swinging the door open. Inside, however… was nothing. It was a familiar cabin, one that his family had shared for years, brothers and sisters spread out along the floor to sleep for lack of space, and yet it didn’t seem like anyone was here…

The frog man blinked a bit, and sniffed. Something was wrong, though he couldn’t quite place a finger on what. Nothing was in his vision, so maybe… He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, standing still for a moment and paying attention to his other senses. He did smell something. Bread? Yes, freshly baked. And meat. Hot meat, with grease and fat dripping into fire, crackling and sizzling… He opened his eyes once more, wandering around the cabin cautiously, and slowly pushing open the wood burning stove that the family had used, a large spit roast beginning to brown over a fire. He gave it a half turn to prevent it from burning, pulling his hand back suddenly as the metal spit burned him a bit, fingers being stuck into his mouth defensively. Then he heard something else. Giggling. Familiar giggling. His eyes widened once more as he stalked off further into the cabin, to a place doored off only by a dark green curtain. He put his ear to the cloth, listening carefully, and he would have sworn he heard someone counting. “Two…” It started, making Fuhen narrow his eyes. It was a males voice, obviously not the cause of the giggling. “One…” it continued, deepening in a breathy way, as though trying to avoid laughter.

Suddenly, the frog man smiled, pulling away from the curtain before jumping into it, shouting loudly “ZERO!” and leaping through the cloth, tackling what seemed to be at least five forms on the other side, wrestling around with them through a bevy of laughter, giggling, shouting, and a few small screams of surprise. Slowly the cloth was tossed to the side, revealing most of Fu’s younger brothers and sisters, who were obviously trying to surprise him. While Fuhen might not have been the most intelligent, nor literate, his senses were fairly well honed for someone his age, and he relished a chance like this to test them. The wrestling didn’t last for two long before the rest of the frogs family came from either different parts of the cabin, or from outside altogether, each giving him either a hug or a handshake, a kiss on the cheek, or all three depending.

The heartwarming reunion was added to as his mother came over and admonished him for taking so long to come home, tapping him on the head with an oven spatula, still warm from having recently pulled bread from the oven. He took it all with a roll of the eyes, before his father came over as well, taking both his swords and his oversized pouch of money, then escorting him out of the hut, leaving the rest of the family to continue preparing the meal. The rest of the village had come out as well, greeting him with warm smiles and loud greetings. He waved at each of them, happy to see each and every one as his father pulled him along impatiently, towards a small covered gazeebo, where those who fished with rod and reel would be able to spend the time uninterrupted. “Gotsta keep ya busy ‘fore dinner time!” his father explained with a chuckle, pulling out a chess board, and setting it on the hard packed earth, sitting cross legged on one end, and waving a hand at the other to invite his son.

Oi, pops, c’mon, yanno I can’t win at these game of yers…” Fuhen complained as his father set the pieces out, earning a click of the tongue from the elder. “Never will neither if’n ya keep complain’ and dun start playin’!” His father admonished, sweeping a hand over the board to indicate his son would start. Rolling his eyes once more, the frog put his hand on a random pawn, pushing it forward two squares, earning another click from his father “That what yer doin’ when yer goin’ out to earn fer the village? Should be dead by naw.” His father warned him, earning a soft sigh from his son. “Ya need ta think ‘bout yer moves before just rushing in like a ponce!” The son actually gave pause to that. He had been injured a few times before due to his reckless fighting, but he had always figured that’s why he was winning too. He moved another piece. Another click. “Eyy! Not like that neither! Taking pieces isn’t the only way to advance yanno! Sometimes you just gotta bypass the small folk to get to the bigguns…

[1056/800] Wit+1
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Thu Jul 20, 2017 4:21 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #1 -- Zantou #1 Amidst the Arctic Gale Fuhen was freezing, quite clearly and wqell he was freezing his ass off. For lack of a better term, if he had ten toes, he'd be freezing every last one of those off too, and he'd have lost them all to hypothermia. Luckily, or unluckily, there was an end goal to this exursion, and he had a reason to be nearly dead. He was in Frost Country, and despite its name, he didn't come prepared enough. He had put on a jacket, switched from sandals to boots, and bundled up as best he could, but nothing could prepare him for going from the temperate climates of River Country to the chilly frozen wasteland of frost country. He was eager to end his journey, but there was no simple way to speed it up, he had to trudge through knee deep snow to find a rumored place where he would be taught what was supposedly "the founding style of all samurai styles" or something like that, which sounded cool as all hell, and frankly, this must have been hell he was in, and also it was very cool, so it was definitely at least partially what he thought it was. He trudged on still, the snow up to his knees, as he kept thinking to himself "This is for improvement, this is for me." And all the while, he could only move slower and slower, the cold seeping into his bones, the snow melting once it reached his body temperature, and then freezing against his skin with every icy wind that penetrated his jacket, making him feel even colder than the negative temperatures would allow. The wind truly was the worst part. He could handle cold, he was quite used to cold winter nights when some of the rivers froze over in River Country, but River was protected by trees, by high cliff faces, and other such things that stopped the wind from picking up to the speeds it was here. He had every right to complain, as the wind nearly pulled him out of the snow.

His trudging slowed once more, and he pulled out a compass he had purchased. Much of Frost country was devoid of landmarks, and so he needed something to keep his bearings, lest he be lost and die in this awful frozen wasteland. He had no choice but to push on, as he was past the halfway point, and turning back would only mean more heartbreak towards the end. He was nearly there, he could taste it, and he knew deep in his heart of hearts that if he just pushed a little longer... But he fell to his knees, which brought the snow nearly up to his chin, earning him a deeper chill. He couldn't do this for himself, and his hubris would kill him. His family would miss him. His income would no longer support their simple lifestyle, and he couldn't care for them if he was dead. This wasn't just about him... He stood up, shivering from head to toe, fingers bright red from the frost and toes losing all feeling, before he took another step, his shin hitting something solid. He thought it might be ice, but when he looked up, a man dressed in less than him even stood before him, atop a porch to a small house in the snowstorm. "The first step of your training has already been passed, I see." He said to Fuhen, and Fuhen took one more step up onto his porch, before falling to the ground and passing out.

[595/440] Kenjutsu Get
Jutsu TrainedShow
Zantou • Effect Focus
D-Rank Kenjutsu Stance
Prerequisite: 20 Taijutsu, 15 Instinct
A technique requiring just as much mental focus as the ability to control one's body and a core technique of it's style, the user learns to plant their feet in unison while setting their shoulders and lifting their sword, drawing all of their thoughts away from anything but the opponent or target. This technique is meant to be complimented with drawn out breathing practice and meditation to create a state, temporarily, where the senses are narrowed towards a specific goal. This allows the user of the stance to ignore outside stimuli in a fight incredibly easily, focusing solely on the body movements of their opponent, aiding in predicting their moves based on muscle tensions. This also focuses the user to a point where things such as extreme heat or cold no longer bother them on a mental level, even while physically being burned or frozen.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sat Jul 22, 2017 5:23 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #2 -- Zantou #2 An Internal Snowstorm Fuhen had woken up in a daze. He was quite confused as to where he was, and there seemed to be no real answer, either. It was warm, though, and that was certainly nice, hidden under a blanket, and a fire was roaring in a corner, wood burning to keep him alive. He had previously been nearly frozen alive, and as he felt the itch in his extremities, he knew that each one was close to frostbite on an instinctual level. He had nearly frozen to death thanks to his slow trudge through miles of snow to find some ancient hidden away master who probably didn't even exist... Or did he? Was that the man he remembered now, the one who had told him the first step to his training was already complete before he passed out? Come to think of it, was that whose house he was in? Was that where he was? It made much more sense now, and things were starting to become more clear as the itching in his fingers became more unbearable. He rubbed his palms together, trying to avoid scratching at the itch, less he make himself bleed and hurt himself more, but god was it hard.

Nothing was stopping him from getting up and walking around, however, so he went to move and leave, when he was stopped by trying to stand up, and his toes were in even worse shape, nearly a shade of purple, he was terrified at the prospect that they might be gone for good, unusable due to frostbite, thanks to his mistake of not wearing thicker socks, or lacing up his boots tighter so that they might prevent the water from seeping in. The door to the room he was in opened, and a kindly looking old man smiled at him, holding a warm cup of something or other, shuffling on the ground over to him, and kneeling to place the cup before him. "Drink." He urged the cold blooded frogman, who eagerly accepted, not even taking the time to thank the man. The drink was clearly alcholic in some form or another, but it was hard to pinpoint. It tasted absolutely disgusting, but even after the first sip, once it hit his stomach, it made him feel warm internally, and he couldn't help but go in for another drink.

"You've traveled far just to see me. People don't come here by accident." The old man mentioned. Fuhen responded with a shiver, and another sip of the drink. He couldn't get enough of the stuff, even though it made him shudder with each mouthful. It also slowly eased away the itching sensation, and that was good enough. "What you are drinking, then..." The man started, as normal color slowly began to return to Fuhen's toes, his fingers no longer threatening to drop and shatter the cup with each movement. "Is a concoction made to kickstart the next part of your training. The dedicated make it this far, to find that the next step of their training is quite easy in comparison. Fuhen opened his mouth to speak, and he felt something turn inside of him, a switch of some kind, and when he stopped speaking, he realized what had come out of his mouth was not words, but instead some kind of deep force. The master laughed, unphased by the odd turn of events, and motioned for Fuhen to drink more, which he eagerly did, slurping up more and more, before trying to speak once more. His mouth again didn't seem to form the words, and instead only form the roar that made the master laugh harder. "You're a fast learner, young one. This might be interesting after all."

[621/600] ({25+25}*20) Kenjutsu Get
Jutsu TrainedShow
Zantou • Kittens Yelp
C-Rank Kenjutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: Must be under the effects of Zantou • Effect Focus
The first in the hallmark series of techniques to harness ones inner focus and push it out externally, Zantou • Kittens Yelp is a technique designed to instill fear in lesser opponents. So long as the users [Stamina+Taijutsu]/2 is greater than any targets Instinct, any who oppose the user within [Instinct+Taijutsu]/2 in meters will find themselves stunned for a microsecond as the user lets out a mighty kiai yelp. Those with a weaker constitution may find themselves terrified, but warriors will often be mostly unphased. The primary use of this technique is to cause minor hesitation, or to put a block in someone's focus as they try to concentrate on maintaining a technique. This will cause channeled techniques (or techniques in the middle of being sealed) to be cancelled out if the effected targets [Stamina+(Casting Stat)]/2 is less than the users [Stamina+Taijutsu+Instinct]/3.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sat Jul 22, 2017 5:23 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #3 -- Zantou #3 Kindness Too Far Now that Fuhen was restored and rested from his treacherous journey, the sword master had instructed Fuhen to meet him in the basement of his otherwise modest looking home. The Frogman had finished his drink, his toes still an angry red color, though clearly much better than the nearly blue color they were before. The man had saved the Frogman's toes, and likely his sword career as a result. It was hard to gain any balance without the minute functions that toes helped provide, and balance was important for nearly every sword style out there. So Fuhen rose to his sore feet, looking around first of all for his bucket of swords, but upon seeing them in a corner, figured it was best to not carry them in to what was obviously some kind of training session. They were safe and secure, and that was enough to sooth his worrying mind. He peeked his head around the home a bit. It was a small affair, but still had multiple rooms, which was an improvement over the homes Fuhen had stayed at in many of his travels, with separate kitchen space, which led into what looked like a storage cupboard, but really held a set of stairs that led down into the basement.

He followed the stairs, and was introduced to what seemed to be a much larger structure underground. The ceiling was plenty high, higher than most basements, and the room was certainly larger than the housing area above. The floors were done in hard wood, and pillars helped hold the structure above up, keeping the whole structure stable. It was with little trepidation that Fuhen stepped foot onto the wooden floors off the stairs, where he was immediately assaulted, a blade thrown in his direction, but not with malice or intent to kill. The blade, in fact, was a bamboo training replica, weighted in the core to simulate the weight of a real weapon. They must have been crafted elsewhere, similar to the wooden floors, and brought here, given that there were very few trees in Frost Country. "Surviving was your first few steps in training, now we shall see if you are truly prepared, or if you will need to survive a cold walk back home having gained nothing of value." Fuhen stared blankly, he didn't quite understand the philosophy, but it struck a chord with him, there was certainly no way he was going back empty handed.

The master bowed, and Fuhen bowed back, and both took stances. Fuhen felt it was almost instinctual to copy the masters stance, the blade held high over ones head, clearly leaving the core exposed, but protecting the head. It was a dangerous stance, and the master clearly knew it, slowly advancing on Fuhen. The two were mostly silent, before the master closed his eyes for a moment. The Frog was about ready to strike, when the master opened them once more, simultaneously letting out a mighty Kiai, and aiming a downward strike at Fuhen. Stunned momentarily, he moved his blade up to block it, but the master had other plans in mind. His blade changed direction at the last moment, moving mere centimeters away from his own block, before smacking against one of his hands, forcing him to drop the sword and yelp out in pain. "Blade control, my young friend, is the first technique you shall learn from me. Pay close attention."

[602/400] ({25+25}*20) Kenjutsu Get
Jutsu TrainedShow
Zantou • Flowing Cut
D-Rank Kenjutsu Discipline
Prerequisite: Zantou • Effect Focus
A simple sword technique, this allows the user to alter the direction of their blade mid-cut. This can be used to work around a block, or simply to act as a powerful feint and strike all in the same motion without stopping. Either way, this makes the user incredibly unpredictable in a fight.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sat Jul 22, 2017 7:30 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #4 -- Zantou #4 Beheading to Be The first step, blade control, was long done before the next step began. All said and done, the blade control, as well as perfecting the stance that he had 'learned' from marching through the snow had taken a good week of practice. The blade master was no slacker when it came to perfecting the basics before moving on to more advanced theory. The next step was to learn one of the hallmark techniques, he had been told, which meant that he was finally done learning how to swing a sword, a technique he thought he knew quite well already. The blade master called him down to the basement once more, and once more as soon as Fuhen's feet touched the wood at the bottom of the steps, a sword was tossed his way. The two clashed once more, and once more the blade master proved he could win any sort of contest over the frogman. Throwing swing after swing in his direction, every one of his slices was deflected with expert ease, his reaction times and speeds were simply too much for Fuhen to even have a chance of keeping up with.

When the frog had tired himself out making swing after swing towards the Zantou expert, the man slapped aside one of his strikes once more, and with more force this time, countering with a strike of his own finally, bringing his blade down and placing his hand against the back of the hilt, driving the tip of the training sword into Fuhen's chest, pushing him down to the ground with dull force, and in what he was assured was enough force to break one of the Frogs poor ribs, slamming him down to the ground, and holding him steady by keeping the training sword against his chest. "One more strike and you would be dead. You are learning fast, but you are far from completing your training." He said, tracing the wooden blade up to Fuhen's neck, and tracing it along lightly in a motion as though cutting his throat, before letting him up and offering a hand. The process began again, once more Fuhen was only showed the skill of the master, and once more he was planted against the ground as though he were a sapling, and once more the blade was struck against his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. It was a lesson he wouldn't soon forget, and that the master wouldn't let him forget any time soon.

[420/400] Kenjutsu Get
Jutsu LearnedShow
Zantou • Planting Cut
D-Rank Kenjutsu Manuever
Prerequisite: Zantou • Effect Focus, Zantou • Flowing Cut
Before or during any slash the user performs they immediately grip the back of their hilt and execute a frontal thrust with a twist to the handle, angling it downward so that it pierces through the target downward; Once it has, it lodges the blade into the ground, pinning the target unless they can break free of the blade which, depending on placement of the blade, is difficult. This is often used as a lead up to an execution move, but is rarely deadly by itself.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Mon Jul 24, 2017 6:09 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #5 -- Zantou #5 Broken Blades, Broken Spirit The training session was still ongoing. Nothing would stop the indestructable force that was the samurai master on a rampage, fighting for the right to teach his student whatever techniques he so chose. After stabbing him in the chest a multitude of times, and helping him up the last time, the master had taken out a fresh bamboo sword, and kept Fuhen with hgis original. The two lunged at eachother once more, and this time the two found their blades locked. The master smiled, he had planned such a thing, of course, and there was no way for the Frog to fight back in a real competition against the man. The two were clearly in an uneven matchup, and he could only count his lucky stars that he was not actually fighting the man, and instead attempting to learn from him as fast as possible. As the swords slid up and down against eachother thanks to the lubricated nature of the oiled wood, the master let out a mighty kiai, and stepped into the locked blade symphony, shattering the frogmans wooden blade, and sending splinters flying everywhere, his blade meanwhile continued through, slapping against Fuhen's collar.

"The Kiai is a powerful tool, not to be used lightly. But it is a tool all the same, and all good tools have multiple uses, such as the hammer, with the claw on the back end." He said, as Fuhen picked himself back up from the ruthless assault, wiping himself down and loosing several splinters from the wooden blade. The master threw him another, and said "Come, again. You try." And so he did, lunging forwards, locking blades with the kiai master, and the two met eyes. Once more, the master smiled a small smile of confidence. The Frogman attempted to imitate the manuever, letting out a similar kiai to the one he had already learned, stepping into the blade clash. All he managed to do was set himself off balance, followed by the master repeating his handy work, shattering the wooden blade once more, and smacking Fuhen in the chest because of it.

"You're close, but not quite. This kiai needs to come from your liver, not from your stomach." He said with a chuckle, giving the frog the opportunity to stand back up once more, followed by another sword being casually tossed in his direction. "Every different use of the Kiai comes from a different part of you, but they must all be powered by your strength of will." He said, assuming his stance once more. The two lept forward again, blades clashing. Fuhen didn't quite understand what the man meant by 'coming from the liver' but he did his best, focusing his shout from elsewhere than his stomach. The master let out his kiai at a similar time, and the two blades broke simultaneously, a spray of splinters covering the floor. "Excellent" The man remarked. "Now you must sweep so we can begin your next lesson. You're learning faster than most."

[501/400] Kenjutsu Get
Jutsu LearnedShow
Zantou • Breaking Cut
C-Rank Kenjutsu
Prerequisite: Zantou • Effect Focus
A powerful, destructive slash meant to be initiated in the middle of another attack the user shifts their grip suddenly from the hilt to the back of the sword and, with all of their might, they force whatever attack they had to turn into a focused cut on a selective area of the opponent; All of the tension and inertia of an attack is directed at a point on the opponent. This is all performed with a kiai, and acts as both a deflection move, as well acting to break the weapon of the opponent, or could also be used to slice through armor, or even sever a limb given proper placement.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sat Jul 29, 2017 1:09 pm

Fuhen Jutsu Training #6 -- Zantou #6 Tempered Will Like a Blade Fuhen's training had seemingly only begun, each day had left him with a new bruise and a new technique to be learned. Many of these techniques involved lots of yelling, and the yelling had lots of side effects that meant lots of different things. Unfortunately, many of them seemed to not work on the master, and so it felt like the Frog was making very little progress overall. He tried, and tried, and the master eventually would smile and move him on to the next technique as though he had accomplished something, but it was clear the master would not be phased by his own techniques in the same way that Fuhen was effected by them each time. Because of this, the Frog was getting increasingly frustrated, and with each movement onto the next technique, he felt like he was letting himself and the master down. The master seemed to take notice, and made mention of something cheesy along the lines of "A snowflake cannot effect a snowball, but the snowflake can grow." Whatever that meant. Sounded like a bunch of hoodoo, but Fuhen tried to keep the words in mind and whatever they meant, despite the fact that it meant nothing to the Frog at the time. Perhaps it meant very little to the master too, and the whole ordeal was to keep him thinking about it instead of his own inadequecies, which would be slightly ingenious if that was the case.

Nevertheless, the training continued, each day a new shout, each session leaving the Frog on his ass, or on his side, or doubled over from a strong gutcheck. This time, the master approached him with no sword. He offered one to the frog, but held none himself, taking up a simple martial arts stance instead. He made a motion to come towards him with two fingers, and Fuhen assumed his own stance, the natural stance of the Zantou style, blade held high and proud, and stepped into a downward blow, which was narrowly avoided, before he brought the blade back up. He made a similar motion, but instead moved his blade at the last moment, turning a downward strike into a horizontal blow that would send most foes Fuhen's own skill level reeling as he had many times before. The master, on the other hand, simply ducked underneath it, and continued about as though he hadn't just lowered his body impossibly low to the floor. Once more, Fuhen felt outmatched, and the frustration that came with it welled up inside of him. The master smiled, and began a series of rapid Kiai shouts. Fuhen's vision narrowed, and he felt the effects deep within him. A certain degree of rage bubbled forth, and he lunged forward with an uncoordinated attack, which was swiftly countered by a carefully placed foot against Fuhen's ankle, causing his legs to split apart, and him to fall to the floor comically. "You're learning well, you shouldn't let your emotions get the best of you so easily. Take heed when fighting a real opponent that you don't let the same mistakes cloud your judgements."

[520/400] Kenjutsu Get
Jutsu LearnedShow
Zantou • Pups Yipping
B-Ranked Kenjutsu Manuever
Prerequisite: Must be under the effects of Zantou • Effect Focus
A more advanced form of pushing one's will onto their opponents, Zantou • Pups Yipping pushes disadvantage onto targets. By letting out their mighty kiai yelp, the Zantou user puts any foes within [Instinct+Taijutsu]/2 in meters under the negative effects of Zantou • Effect Focus, giving them tunnel vision towards the user, narrowing their focus, and making them act with more reckless abandon towards the user. This also offers a debuff of -6 Instinct towards the targets. Effectively acting as a taunt, the targets Instinct must be greater than the users [Stamina+Taijutsu]/2 in order to resist the effects. This effect may be maintained as long as the user continues their kiai at least once every two posts, but otherwise lasts a total of two posts.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sat Aug 05, 2017 8:28 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #7 -- Zantou #7 Shotpiercer Today was another training day. They had their days off, the master insisted, as much as Fuhen tried to insist otherwise, that they keep going, that they train harder, but the master would complain half-heartedly. "Oh, my back hurts today." or "Oh, I'm quite tired." Which was really just an excuse to force Fuhen to sit down, drink some tea, and take a day off. It was hard to make the young man do so, many days, he wasn't abe fan of slacking off, as much as we was good at it during his various travel times to various countries. He would often hitch rides on the backs of wagons going the same way he was, or pay for passage on ships to get to coastal towns to save himself some time. Laziness wasn't really in his vocabulary, though, and like many in similar situations to him, he was a hard worker who didn't like to stop when the sun went down, and hardly took Sundays off, even when he'd really deserved it. It didn't matter, though, the master insisted, and much to the chagrin of Fuhen, it meant that there was no talking him down.

However, the rest day was over, and as previously stated, it was a training day. The master had given Fuhen a chestpiece to wear today, a piece of training armor meant for hard contact practice, and he was wearing one himself. The two squared off in their stances once more, but unlike previous times, Fuhen did not make the first move. The master did, taking his sword down from the usual high position, drawing it back, and letting out a mighty kiai as he thrusted forwards. The frog didn't see the sudden attack coming, and was too shocked to react very fast. He brought his sword up in attempts to knock it to the side, but the masters wooden blade would travel directly through, and aim for Fuhen's collarbone. The chestpieces were meant to prevent that from happening, but his blade continued, as though enchanted to seek flesh, making a clean hole into the armor, before it very lightly tapped against his skin. The frogman blanched, and the master pulled his blade back. "Sometimes, brute strength is the only way to fight brute strength. Piercing armor, and indeed, weapons, is an important lesson to learn." He said.

The Frog blinked, fingering the hole that the man had made, before stepping back himself, putting the tiniest bit of distance between the two, before he attempted to mimic the mans actions, letting out a deep kiai from his belly, bellowing as he thrusted forward. The master smiled, and didn't even bring his sword up, instead taking the blow straight to the chest. Unlike his own blow, Fuhen's had stopped dead against the armor. "Iron will is required to break iron, with iron." The master stated, as though that really made sense. "You must focus on the kiai from your heart, not from your stomach. Do not cry, kiai." Which was really just insulting in many ways, but Fuhen took it to heart all the same, repeating his actions time and time again.

[526/400] Kenjutsu Get
Jutsu TrainedShow
Zantou • Fearsome Thrust
C-Rank Kenjutsu
Prerequisite: *Zantou • Effect Focus
Usually thought of as an 'ending point' from other attacks, the user draws their blade back towards their core and lets forth their kiai shout as they thrust forward, giving them a momentary surge as they force their body into the thrust. This technique allows them a devastating amount of piercing force and allows users to puncture holes in tough armor, or through defending weapons to attack what lays behind.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sat Aug 26, 2017 5:49 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #8 -- Strong Fist #1 Great Strength Fuhen's strength was sincerely lacking. He was young, certainly, and had much to learn, but he had spent so much of his time improving his speed that his strength had begun to falter because of it. He had seen a technique from Naoki, the man with whom he had fought a giant lizard beast with, that displayed great strength at a sacrifice of speed, which sounded like a good start. He recalled the memory as best he could, his older friend winding up for what seemed like an eternity for a combat manuever, and yet with Fuhen acting as a distraction, and a bit of good timing on Naoki's part, the maneuver had connected and done quite a bit of damage to the beasts scales, ultimately allowing the Frogs blades to cut through its tail, and deal a good bit of damage to the creature.

Now he was back home, thinking back on that moment, and trying to think of how he could replicate it. He had learned of the might of the kiai from his Frost Country teacher, who taught him to apply it to his blade techniques, often to the detriment of opponents, and occasionally to benefit of him, the wielder. It had to be a similar thought process at least, and so he stood before a tree, using his hands to emphasize and visualize his breathing. Focusing on the in and out, taking deeper and deeper breaths each time, until each draw of air took over a minute, and so did releasing it, his body was already loose from stretches, but now he was clearing his mind. Sucking in one last breath, he twisted his body back, readying a fist, and slowly moving his hand to connect it to the tree. He repeated the process three or four times, marking out the trajectory of his hand to the tree, focusing himself on a single point.

Pulling his fist back one last time, he let the breath out all at once, twisting his entire body, adding its momentum to the momentum of his mighty swing, and connecting with the tree. First, his fist hurt, but at the same time as his fist throbbed in pain from punching a tree, the tree shifted, some of its roots pushing dirt out of the way, trying to yield to the lesser force and come out of the ground. That was harder than he'd ever punched before, and while it wasn't enough to break the tree in half, or even uproot it completely, it was impressive compared to the Frogs natural strength, and if he could refine the process further, it would work out in combat to take out foes with ease, while he continued to outclass them on footspeed.

[455/400] Taijutsu Get
Jutsu TrainedShow
*[Strong Fist Style • Thunder Leaf Fist]
C-Ranked Taijutsu Maneuver
An attack that is slow to wind up but powerful in execution. The adept tenses every muscle in their shoulders and arms while twisting their core for a powerful strike. For the 1/4 post they spend winding up they're treated as having a -6 speed. However, when the strike is released it comes nearly instantly and at a +6 strength.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sat Aug 26, 2017 5:55 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #9 -- Strong Fist #2 Speed of Gods With that, his strength could be accounted for easily. He certainly wasn't strong enough to cut a tree in half, even with the focus and style that he had practiced to put it up there, but it was more than enough to put your average fighter on their asses. With the assistance of blades, he had often relied on his speed alone, and plenty of shallow cuts to bleed opponents until they either could no longer fight, or were simply unwilling to. But even with as many blades as he had collected, it was pertinent to master his hand to hand feats as well, in the off chance he were to be properly disarmed for any length of time; Besides, even if he were never disarmed, some of the basic principles behind his hand to hand training could be applied to his bladework, so it was best to make the two work together in tandem, working in the best parts of both. It was such that led Fuhen to start working on another feat of impressive speed, one that was in the scroll he had been given oh-so long ago by the ninja that came crashing into his village, turning his simple lifestyle upside down, from that of a fishermans son, to that of a mercenary.

Luckily, the scroll was keen on diagrams, and diagrams were something the Frog could follow, even if he couldn't read the accompanying captions that would probably make things much more simple. The idea was, or seemed to be, to tense up all the bodies muscles, winding them up in preparation for one massive and sudden movement. The applications of which were many in their base design, but for this particular technique, as far as Fuhen could understand it, would catch just about anyone off-guard, even someone that had seen the technique before would probably be unable to react fast enough before at least a single good strike could get inside their guard, and that was sometimes all it took to turn the tide of battle to ones advantage. He slowly followed the instructions, squaring up his body, and pointing his elbow towards his target, the same tree he had punched earlier. The Frog had wandered away a good distance to test out the capabilities of this particular ability, and as he slowly tensed his entire body, he took a deep breath as he had while punching the tree. Closing his eyes, and releasing the tension in his muscles at the same time he opened his eyes, he was able to take off with speed that his normal jumping could do no justice to, appearing just before the tree.

[443/400] Taijutsu Get
Jutsu TrainedShow
*[Strong Fist Style • Leaf's Flashing Might]
B-Ranked Taijutsu Maneuver
Requiring a full post of charge time the user tenses their entire body in preparation, becoming immobile. During this time they will look for their direct path and position themselves with their elbow pointed forward. At the end of the post they will release all of this pent up energy with extreme force, leaping nearly instantaneously a number of yards equal to their strength. If their strength is high enough this can punch through obstacles on their path and create extreme damage to opponents who are hit by it. Often used as an opening attack and cannot be done more than twice per thread.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Mon May 28, 2018 5:38 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #10 -- Mugen Ittoryu #1 Twelve strikes as one Fuhen had spent so much time in Blizzard Country learning the basics of Zantou, that when he had come back to his much warmer homeland, he had begun to slack off, taking what he felt initially was a much deserved break. It sincerely didn't take long, however, before he was restless once more. His time in Blizzard country was far from wasted, he had learned a lot about focusing on single opponents, standing stalwart to fight them face-to-face rather than his usual hit and run tactics, and because of it, he was inspired to bring some of those lessons onto his own sword style, thinking about how the almost disposable nature of his swords could aid him in such a task.

So there he stood, in a field not so far outside of his village, a few trees breaking up the scenery and providing much needed shade in the otherwise very hot river country, especially accentuated by the sweat dripping down Fuhen's balls. He had constructed a shoddy training dummy out of straw, tightly bound together with twine, and finally supported by several wooden planks running around it in every direction, making it not so easy to destroy that he'd have to keep making new ones. Making training dummies was something he'd gotten some what good at thanks to having nowhere to train and nobody to train with except himself throughout his youth, but he was quickly reaching the point where he was strong enough that no matter how well he constructed them, they'd fall apart in just an evenings training. Some day he'd have to invest in sturdier dummies made of tougher stuff.

He faced down his training dummy, basket of swords on his back, thinking for a moment. The Frog was far from the strongest, but he was quick, and one of the lessons that his teacher from blizzard country had taught him was that he should improve his strengths rather than trying to cover all of his weaknesses. He would be much more suited to hitting ten times fast, than trying to hit as hard as some he saw all at once, though... ten times fast? Why not... twelve? And the idea was born. Rushing quickly towards the dummy now with the idea birthed in his mind, the frog would begin to draw several of his swords, juggling them about in the air as he ran, until they numbered twelve, passing from hand to hand, up in the air, and so on. When he met the dummy, that's when the attacks would begin.

The first attack would arguably come the fastest, a two handed strike at a downward angle, as though aiming for the shoulder of a person. The blade would thunk into the would satisfyingly, but before the sound was even finished spreading through out the ring, his next blade would come in, hitting the other side at a straight angle this time, digging into where the bottom ribs of a person would be. Blade after blade rained down upon the dummy, each maintaining its position when the next landed, until it was covered all over. Both shoulders, stomach, rib cage, head, hips, legs, no part of the dummy was safe from the deadly blows.

When the last of the blades struck into the dummy, Fuhen stood there panting lightly, taking deep breaths and admiring his handiwork. He smiled for a moment, but the smile slowly faded as he took a closer look. Each of the cuts was almost minimally deep. While surely he had focused on speed over strength, the kinds of wounds he would be inflicting with this attack wouldn't be nearly enough to take down some of the opponents he had faced recently, who seemed to be getting inexplicably stronger with each adventure he went on, almost as though they were scaling with him, but that was nonsense. It wasn't like there was someone up in the sky specifically only throwing competition at him that he could handle, such a thing would be absolutely ridiculous.

So he began again, taking each of his swords out of the dummy one by one, checking each for any nicks in the blades, before sheathing them back in his massive basket of blades, which he momentarily wondered why he was able to carry them as though it were nothing, before shrugging and deciding that he was great and nobody should tell him otherwise, especially not some fat guy sitting in a chair in front of rectangles that shot light into his eyes all day. This time he would run at the dummy in more of a zig zag pattern, making his running erratic and hard to predict, not that the dummy would care, the dummy just wanted to finish the day and go home to its wife and kids, and stop being hit by a freakishly tall frog who should also be going home to his own family.

He changed his angle of attack this time as well, making sure each strike landed and would carry its momentum through, meaning he also spent less time holding onto each blade, ensuring that his next strike, and the strike after fell faster and faster than the last. He moved so fast that he even surprised himself, and before he even knew it, when the last strike landed, the first blade hadn't even finished carrying its momentum yet. Each blade rolled off of the dummy nearly at the same time, and the wounds it left this time were much more impressive. Not only deeper, but longer too, as the blade rolled it continued to cut. It also left the blades in a much more advantageous position, sticking out of the ground around his opponent like that meant it would be even easier to follow up with further strikes if this particular attack didn't end their life.
Jutsu TrainedShow
Addition
B-Ranked Taijutsu Maneuver
The user takes hold of a sword and slashes the opponent before releasing the sword and taking hold of another sword to attack again. The user repeats this up to twelve times. The attack itself relies upon the high speeds of the individual attacks and the momentary stun inflicted by the previous blows, allowing the user to grab more of the surrounding swords and continue with the technique. With each strike the sword is left behind attached to the opponent, the user grabbing a hold onto another sword and striking before the blade can be removed from the flesh. At the end of the technique, all blades will 'roll' off of the opponent, leaving huge gashes all over their body as the swords thrust tip first into the ground once again. Each time the user strikes with a new blade, it is at a different angle, making the technique unpredictable and almost impossible to defend against unless the target has Instinct higher than the user's Speed stat.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 10:57 am

Fuhen Stat Training #2 -- Speed #1 Race Part 1 “Get ready. Get set. Go!” The announcer said. And with that, all three hundred of the contestants sprinted off in a cloud of dust. Fuhen knew that the race would be long and hard, and so he had to conserve his energy. he did not sprint, but he did try to at least keep the group in sight. The race consisted of multiple events, and running was only the first of those. The othiss included biking, climbing, repelling, swimming, obstacle courses, and many othis untold challenges. The contestants had been told about those five, but were also told that five more would be randomly placed throughout the course. he did not really care if the group got ahead for now. This would be a long race, and he could make up the time in the othis events. He started off with an adrenaline rush from the excitement that came with a competition like this, but that soon faded. he was able to keep a steady pace going for a while, and after the initial sprint that the othiss started with faded, he started to pass them. She passed probably a third of the group within the first hour. Some had stopped entirely, some had been injured, and one man lay still on the path, assumed dead.

Fuhen did not really care though. he knew that that was just one less contestant to worry about. He maintained a pace of about six miles per hour at first, then, after getting bored, sprinted a few hundred feet, then jogged again. This process was repeated about every five minutes, after he had caught his breath, and slowed his heart rate back to normal. The racers were now staggered, with one about every half mile or so. he had passed anothis sixth of the group with his new tactic, and was catching up the more every time he did it. The running portion would be over soon, he guessed. he only checked his map a few times, to make sure that he was still on the right path. After what he guessed was noon, he had to eat. Fortunately, he was passing through a small village at the time, and was able to buy something rather quickly. He had purchased a rather large bag of beef jerky, and a bottle of water. he was then able to eat the food on the run, literally.

After another four, or so, hours of running, the map lead his to a huge rock face. The path went straight up from there. There were small hand holds on the rock face, but he didn't need them. He saw man injured runners at the bottom, which sort of unnerved his, but he pressed on. He focused chakra to his feet, and began running up the face of the wall. At this point, he ran as quickly as he could, trying to gain ground on some of the other contestants. he sprinted. he passed fifteen climbers while he ran, and thise had been anothis fifteen at the base of the mountain. he was getting closer to first place. The rock face was extremely tall, and took Fuhen almost ten minutes to reach the top. he had pretty much sprinted up the rock face, only stopping to walk twice. His breath came in gasps, and his throat was dry. After a minute of resting, he looked over the cliff side. Thise were still several people on the wall. Even more contestants had begun the assent. They were no longer a threat to his. he needed to keep going. After briefly consulting his map, he ran off in the direction of the path. he had to keep moving if he wanted to catch up to the first place runner.

As he ran, Fuhen occasionally ate some beef jerky, or drank some water, just to keep fatigue at bay. The race had begun about five hours ago, and he was only in… what was it now? he was in the top thirty, he thought, but he had lost track of the exact number of people he had passed. he still had eight events to go. he reached the next course jut as the sun was going down. It was going to get really cold, really fast. he wanted to get one more event done before he took a rest. The next event was an obstacle course, but it was so long that he could not see the end of it. he was tempted to simply flicker through it, but he was in this for the challenge. This event had overseers to make sure that the racers did not skip the course. Fuhen began by running and jumping as far as he could, using chakra to add power to the leap. he landed about twenty feet in, and was already past the first obstacle: tires. he ran on, sprinting now. he reached the next obstacle: a wooden wall that was thirty feet high. he ran up the wall with chakra, and continued on. Why more people had not entered this race was beyond his.

The next part to the course was rolling hills that changed from a steep down, to a steep up in less than a foot of space. His legs were burning after this last part. The final part was a balance beam that spanned a fifty foot chasm, at the bottom of which was sharp spikes. Fuhen easily crossed this obstacle, and received a slip of paper showing that he had done it. he tucked the paper away, and slipped into the forest near the course to bed for the night. It had taken his a long time to get hise, and the moon was now his only light. Exhausted, he laid down on a soft patch of ground, and almost instantly passed out. When he awoke, Fuhen looked at the sky and saw a full moon on the horizon. he had woken up at the same time as he did every day. he would finish the race today. As far as he knew, he had only swimming, which he had an unfair advantage in, and a few othis unnamed events. So far, he had completed climbing, the obstacle course, and running. Of course he was planning on running through the rest of the events as well, but technically, he was done.

He drained the last of his water, and eat the remaining strips of beef jerky, then threw the packages on the ground. He was not, by any means a tree hugger, and knew that a cleanup crew would be by for clean up – probably. His whole body hurt from the rigorous race, but the prize was worth it. And so he continued on in the race. he was supposed to do a mountain biking course, but decided to run instead. Truth be told, he didn’t know how to ride a bike. his family had been poor, and so it was just not “in the budget” to get a bike. Other children had gotten bikes, but he never did. So he ran. he didn’t mind running. It was one of his favorite things to do. he loved the feel of the wind on his face, and the scent of fresh morning on a nice run. he was normally fast, but now he took a slow pace, trying to enjoy the journey rathis than just going for the prize. The biking course was about fifty miles long. he had already crossed the border between countries, but still had a great distance to go. The biking trail was almost too thin for bikes, making it hard for bikers, but he was running, and had no trouble.

He flew over the ground, sweat pouring off of his brow, and soaking his clothing. He had worn his travel gear for the race, and was glad of that fact. His suit would have slowed his down, and would also have been quite hot. The next course was the swimming. A river separated the trail, and no one was around. he had already passed the remaining 33 contestants, and was now in third place. he guessed that the ninja he had seen would be in first place. Without even stopping, he ran across the face of the water, focusing on chakra control the whole time. The river was over a mile wide, and one could not see one bank from the othis. The run only took a few minutes, which gave him a good lead on anyone who was a non shinobi. he leaped onto the opposite shore, and continued to run, increasing his speed as adrenaline pumped through his. He was going to win this race. He just had to. It was noon when he reached the next course. The object was more of a survival challenge than anything. He had to build a fire, cook a fish that had been provided, and then eat the fish before continuing. He didn’t see the point to this, but whatever. He made a pitiful flame, took the fish, and fried it lightly as near-sushi, then ate it. He was out of that station within four minutes.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 10:59 am

Fuhen Stat Training #3 -- Strength #1 Old Fashioned Work Fuhen grimaced. He was so weak. He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes to break a branch so he could try to make a fire, but was failing miserably. The branch was not even that thick. Most people would have been able to succeed in the task in no time at all, but not Fuhen. He was weak. He threw the piece of wood to the ground in frustration, annoyed at his lack of physical strength. He needed to become stronger, but how could he be strong if he was physically weak? That did it. The thought of his future being stunted by a lack of physical strength appalled him. He had to get stronger, physically. He began to think of ways to increase his strength, and one thing came to mind: pushups. He moved away from the group of logs and began doing pushups. Over and over he pushed his body from the ground, slowly, and with control. The longer he could make each rep last, the more it seemed his arms were taxed.

His arms were not the only things that seemed to be tiring. His abdominal muscles also began to burn as he continued to repeat the simple exercise. As he exercised his body, his mind began to drift. He had the stamina to do a lot of these exercises, and so he could let his mind drift. He thought back to the origin of the pushup. He wondered where it had come from, or who had invented it. It was really sad that he had thought of it, but it helped him to pass the time. He went back to the exercise. He began to count in his mind, hoping it would make things go more quickly.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. . . wait, I’m not on eight, I’ve been doing this for ten minutes. I wonder what number I’m actually on. . . I’ll say one hundred. . . but that takes too long to say, so I’ll just start counting from this point. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. . . That really doesn’t make sense. . . I should try to estimate the number. . . Nah, I should just keep counting. Wait. . . what number was I on? I’ll just start over. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. . . this is so stupid. I’ve counted to eight three times now. . . or was it four? I’m so confused. Maybe I should count to eight a bunch of times, and track these that way. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. That’s one. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. That’s two. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. That’s three. Shoot, I skipped one. . . I’l say I’m on. . . no, I’ll just start over. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Shoot, I went one over. . . but that’s. . . what is that, four? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. That’s five. . . plus one, cuz I added an extra one last time. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. That’s six. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. That’s seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. That’s eight. Should I stop at eight sets of eight? Yeah, I’m getting kind of tired.

The boy stood up, not really tired. He felt the fatigue, but it was not enough to stop him from moving on. Next he would do sit ups. He skipped the thoughts on where situps began, and moved onto the counting, hoping not to lose track this time. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Ten is a good number to keep track of. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. So now that’s two, making that twenty. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. That’s three. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. That’s four. I wonder what dad’s doing right now. Shoot, I lost count What was I on? That was about ten. . . So now I’m at five, meaning fifty. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Sixty. . . I mean six. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Seventy. . . No, seven. Keeping this simple. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. And that’s eight. I’ve already done eighty sit ups. This is almost fun. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. That’s nine. Should I go for one hundred? Yeah, why not. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and . . . ten. I am so cool.

He finished the sit ups and looked at his abs below his pulled up shirt. They were twitching. “Cool” he said out loud. He was pumped. If he did this every night, he would be all buff and the village ladies would be all over him. The thought made him smile until he got the image of a fat woman fawning over him. He almost threw up. He decided to take a break, and went for a drink of water. Hydration was important during physical training. He didn’t waste much time, though, and was back at his training before a minute was over. He removed his shirt, noticing that it had become sweaty, and went onto the next activity: pull ups. He jumped up to a nearby tree branch and began to pull his light body up, time after time. He switched between having his hands forward and having his hands backward for a more rounded workout.

He jumped down after about twenty of these, convinced that after such a workout, he was going to be stronger. His goals would not be suppressed by lack of muscle. He would be. . . a great samurai!
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 11:21 am

Fuhen Stat Training #4 -- Speed #2 Active imagination Well, it was almost time to go home, but not yet. He planned to have a lot more time to train throughout the week, on normal training time, but He didn't want to burn himself out today and he was getting pretty tired. He still had enough for a few more sprints, though, so that was what he planned to do to overcome his speed deficiency. He was determined and nothing, not even his own tiredness, would keep him from overcoming. He was soaking wet again, but at least He was cooled down. After a bit of stretching to finish his break, he went at it again. He was planning to just run home, but then he thought of something.

He sprinted forward, counting his steps to measure the pace and the distance. After one hundred yards, he skidded to a stop and jogged back half way, so that he was now fifty yards from the mouth of the cavern. Now that hall had been lit up a little bit, since this was not an undiscovered place, just a rarely visited one, as visible by the lack of trash and graffiti.

He got back to the 50 yard line and pivoted, pushing off with all the force he could manage, and sprinting once again, counting. "Twenty six. Twenty seven." And so on. When he got to one hundred yards again, he did the same thing as the last time, trying to maintain his speed. He spun around, and jogged back 50 yards, again catching his breath, and trying to time himself mentally to get a better time, to push faster and harder than before.

He caught his breath by the time he got back to the one hundred yard line, and spun himself around again, doing a one hundred and eighty degree turn before rushing off to catch his previous record, now heading to the two hundred yard line which was marked only in his head, but that was good enough for him. He knew that if he could do this all the way home, which was about a mile from where he was, he would not only have logged a good four hours of training, he might have actually gotten one step up on his pals who were out trying to do other things right now, things that didn't matter. Everything he did mattered.

He was hot again, and his body was sweating and steaming, but the clothing he had jumped into the lake with was almost dry.

He pushed himself again and again, taking breaks on the jog, but always getting back at it and pushing himself to overcome. He could do this. His body was hot and steaming with sweat, but he could not give up, not now. Not yet. His house was getting closer, but just as he was almost about to see it, he spun around and jogged back. Each time it was like he was rushing for his house, but then each time he turned around again. Push, push push, jog back and rest. Burst speed was all that mattered. He could do this. Almost there. He pushed himself harder and harder, never letting down but to jog back. Each time he was determined to overcome the last time, and each time he did. He was counting, timing himself in his head. It was as if he was racing for his life, chased by some kind of animal, maybe a bear. Granted in such a case he might not be running like this, but it was the idea that mattered, he was running not for her life in the moment, but for his life down the road when this speed would count. But he was getting tired of the changeless scenery.

It was a little boring now, since he was in a mostly dark tunnel with only the periodic light lamp to guide him and keep him entertained. But he shouldn't need to be entertained while he was training. He was almost at his house, but then he had a thought. He didn't want everyone to know he had been training, or what he had been doing at all.

--

He had planned on spending the day doing other important things, but there was some birthday party or something and no one in the village was available, so he went back to speed practice. This time, he decided to practice zig-zag movement. He moved to the oposite side of the tunnel he'd been practicing in and got ready, all his gear still on his back. That would help him with his burst potential. He needed to be able to escape an attacker and move to a better location.

He set his mark and blasted off, going only as fast as an average genin, but he would get better. He had to if she was ever going to advance and become a chuunin. His feet became like a blur as he raced the short distance to the wall, jumped a little up onto the wall, pivoted, and pushed off to build more momentum. His active imagination put him in the cross hairs of hell fire - he could hear shouting shattering the silence around him as she pushed off again, and knew that just behind him was an angry mob set to follow him. He had to escape.

His feet created a constant tok tok on hardened ground, the only true sound being made through the tunnel aside from his labored breathing. But this was a life or death situation. He had to keep moving or He would be obliterated. Another pivot, then another. Racing against fate, time, space, the very friction of the air, the man pressed on until he could see the end of the tunnel in sight. He looked behind him and saw three scary looking ninja types chasing after him, their faces covered with masks and their bodies covered in robes. One of them took out a kunai and whipped it at him. He could hear it whizzing through the air but just then, he pivoted again and blasted off of the wall just in time to escape death.

He set his sights on the end of the tunnel, where she knew explosives were set as a trap. If she could make it past the tunnel entrance she would be safe and the attackers would be buried under rubble. She renewed her slowed pace and pushed herself harder than before, the straps of his backpack chaffing against his shoulders. His lungs burned, but he didn't care. He had to make it. He had to. He took one more glance behind him to see how far away his attackers were, then finally launched through the exit, trusting the explosions behind him to keep him safe. He barely made it, and was left gasping for breath on the ground. He stood, panting, and looked behind himself to happily find the entire imagined mess all cleaned up. But as he looked down at his clothing he gasped. He was drenched with sweat. So much for the shower. He would have to go back and clean up all over again.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 11:43 am

Fuhen Stat Training #5 -- Taijutsu #1 Target Practice Fuhen woke up slowly, as he usually did, processing what he had done the previous day, and what he hoped to accomplish today. Yesterday he had logged about five hours of training that no other samurai had logged. That was a good step up from everyone else, and it was sure to set him on his way to advancing and most importantly, learning more secrets. You see, the problem with being a young samurai had little to do with finances and freedoms. But the issue with that was that no one even knew about their him, let alone acclaimed him for anything.

Half an hour later, he was at the target range. Well actually it wasn't a target range, it was just a long, seldom used passage way that he had thought of using, but never gotten around to. He had carried his swords around long enough, it was time to make use of them. He needed to be able to impress people and keep people away if it came to combat. So he would train his aim today. He loaded his basket sheath and took aim down the range. He had set up a sheet against the far wall with a target drawn on it. It was pretty big but could be missed if he was too far off. First, he wanted to work on hitting the target. That would be the issue for today. The first few times he had tried to swords, they had just clattered off randomly without purpose. He hadn't needed much throwing in combat yet, but he would one day as much as he didn't like the idea.

He set himself up and aimed down the hall, breathing as slowly and steadily as he could so that his body would not move too much. The grip set against his hand comfortably and he took aim down the range, putting the center of the target in focus. He took a long time getting ready. Precision was not a game of haste. In fact, going too fast would be counterintuitive. No, he needed to focus hard and stay still. He had all day, and he was logging this for training time. He didn't have to report where he would be spending the day, so people knew where he was, but if anyone checked on his at least he would be actively doing work.

The swords were balanced just perfectly, and it felt good. He looked down the range to the target, decided on a moment to throw, took a long breath and let it half way out - a technique he had learned by picking an archers brain. His body was completely still, and his vision was as clear as it was going to be. It was time to take the shot. He was nervous. The first time was always the hardest. But he was running out of air in his lugs and was starting to lose his nerve. Finally he let the air out. He would have to try that again. He was so caught up in the need to perform that he was a little crippled knowing that people knew he was here and that they expected his to show results. It wasn't the same as being somewhere training when no one knew.

The man was ready for anything. He looked to his left and then to his right. He got down on his hands and knees look forward to his prize, and got ready to throw. He took a sideways stance and prepared his swords. He had been practicing this for about an hour now, and the shot would be the one that counted. He knew he could do this, Chip and practicing enough, and now it was time to see his practicing come to fruition. He took a deep breath, one of the most important parts of the process, and let it out halfway. Then, with his sword positioned as needed, aimed just right toward the target, he took the throw. The sword sailed through the air for what seemed like a lifetime but for what was really only a second. Thump. It went right into the target. Just as planned and just as he had hoped. Success! But now he needed to move it just a little bit to be better toward the center. But that was okay.

But he had to overcome that if he wanted to be a good samurai. Eventually everything he did would be documented. As it was now he was lucky that no one knew his exact thoughts. But he wanted to have good memories of this training session, so finally he took the shot. And totally missed. Typical. It was his first shot, it was ok to miss, right? At least he could just try again, nothing major was lost.

He drew another sword and prepared himself, aiming for the sheet seemingly too far away. This was not his favorite thing to do, but it was training and it was better than people beating his at everything. Time put in was important to becoming a good samurai.

So he took aim again and repeated the process like he had done before. He breathed in and let the breath seep out until his lungs were about half full, then he took aim again. He closed one eye and put the sword steady in his hand. Now that everything was ready, he held himself still and fired the sword at the target. It wizzed through the air going a lot slower than he wanted it to, but still doing all right. It grazed the target, at least enough to see progress from the last time. Perfect. He was getting better. Maybe this time he would change some things to help his out.

He thought he was doing things right. Maybe it was the swords, which weren't really thrown weapons by tradition. It was probably just him. So he drew a sword again and tried to take aim, again repeating the process with the breath and letting it out so he was steady. But this time would be different. This time he knew how far to the left the shot was, roughly, and how far to the right he needed to aim. It wasn't something he could do really in combat because an opponent would know where he was if he wasn't careful, but for now it would work to at least end this hour of training with a good score. He took aim, took his time, aimed about six inches to the right, which looked like six feet on the target, and he threw the sword at the bed sheet. A hole ripped through the center of the target. Not the exact center, but close enough. He had done something awesome. He couldn't help but shout, "First try!" Not caring who was around him. He had done what he didn't think he could do. He had hit the middle of the target.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 11:57 am

Fuhen Stat Training #6 -- Strength #2 Workout Regime Fuhen woke to someone shaking him awake. What the heck was going on? Before he had time to think about where he was or what was happening, his father was there. He recoiled and gasped. "What are you doing?"

"It's already five o clock, what are you still doing in bed? We've got work to do." Suddenly Fuhen was regretting letting this man know he had been training extra, but ever since he was a kid, his father was overly encouraging.

"Grab your crap and meet me outside." he said, not pulling any punches.

The two met outside and his father produced literally all of Fuhen's equipment. "How did you even get all that here? I thought I left it down by the river..."

"How is not important. Put it all on."

"What, all of it? I never carry all of it, it's freaking heavy!" he complained, but he knew he wasn't getting out of this. he got fully dressed in all the gear he normally carried only sellectively, and stood at the door ready to go, his shoulders already hurting from the weight of the gear.

"You're insane, you know that right?" Fuhen asked as they left the house. Almost no one was up at this hour. Some of the hard core ninja were training, but they kept to themselves.

"All right, follow me. We're going for a run."

"What, with all of this? I won't make it ten feet!" But that didn't stop his father. He set off at a pretty slow pace, one that Fuhen could follow. The weight of all the gear on his shoulders made his feel like he was going to fall over, but he pressed on. He would not let his father down. He was tired, and they hadn't eaten breakfast, which made his head and stomach hurt, but he pressed on. There were a lot of reasons for his to just give up. he knew if he wanted to he could tell his father to forget everything and go back to the way things were.

No more words were exchanged for a long while. It seemed like forever, but it was really only about ten minutes. When they finally got to where they were going, his father stopped. Fuhen was gasping by now, and began to shed his equipment, but his father stopped her.

"Nope, that stays on. If you're in battle and you have to move, you can't just leave all your gear behind. You have to take it with you. Now, drop and give me twenty."

"What? I can't do twenty pushups with all this stuff on, are you crazy?" his father said nothing, only cocked an eyebrow. he reached behind a wall and pulled out a training vest, pulling it over his body.

"I've got fifty pounds in here, that's more than you're carrying by about double. I'll do the pushups with you. Now let's go, don't let your heart calm down!" And just like that, the girl dropped to the floor and began doing pushups, each time forcing a gust of wind from his chest with a loud hissing noise. Fuhen could see that the weight was hard for his father to handle, but he wasn't giving up. Neither could she.

She got on the floor and began doing pushups on his knees, but his father snapped at her. "No knees, do your pushups like a man!"

"Ready? Count them out. One. Two. Three. Four. One. Two. Three. Four. One. Two. Three. Four." he said, never skipping a beat. Fuhen couldn't speak, though. he was breathing too hard. his father might have been doing more, but he was also in better shape.

When they finally finished, Fuhen collapsed to the floor, exhausted. This gear really was heavy. But he felt herself being lifted up by the straps of his backpack.

"Take it off, you're not done yet." his father said. Fuhen obliged, but didn't like the thought of what was to come.

"Time for burpies." his father said. Fuhen noticed that he still had the weight vest on. "Let's count them out. One. Two. Three. Four. One. Two. Three. Four. One. Two. Three. Four. Don't give up, don't stop!" Finally they took a break after doing twenty burpies. Which by the way included even more pushups. Fuhen was spent.

"All right, I'm done. I'm not going to move for like a year." he said, sure he was paralyzed. But she'd finished.

His father didn't sit down. He was jogging in place. "Don't let your body stiffen up or you really won't be moving. Come on, active rest. Active rest."

Fuhen pealed himself off the ground and began swaying back and forth, his feet feeling like lead.

"That doesn't count, come on. If you don't start moving your feet I'll put the gear back on you and make your run home at double speed!" The threat of having to run again got Fuhen to convince his legs to move just enough to satisfy his taskmaster of a best friend.

"All right, back at it. Twenty more pushups." By this point Fuhen was too exhausted to complain. he just rolled his eyes and got into position. he counted them out in his head, breathing twice for each pushup, but he made it. It sucked, but he made it. he kept pushing herself. he didn't know why, but he was finding that his limits were not quit as hard set as he might have thought. In fact, he was beginning to wonder how much more he could do.

"Good, now twenty more burpies! Go!" his father screamed. What time was it? he couldn't tell how long they'd been at it. Maybe it was only a half hour, but it felt like so much longer. By this point his lungs weren't bringing in enough oxygen to fuel his body and muscles, and his eyes were getting fuzzy. They still hadn't eaten. his mouth was wattering at the thought of finally getting something to eat, even if it was just eggs and toast. Which he hated by the way.

The two pushed on into the morning, rotating through pushups and burpies. It got to the point that the pushups were actually feeling easier, even though he was tired. He still felt sore, but his mind was taking a back seat. It wasn't fully engaged in the activity at hand. It might have been peaceful if his father hadn't been screaming at her.

Sweat dripped off the Frog's brow as he panted, his entire body shaking almost to the point of convulsion. he knew he could keep going though, just a little longer. By this time he was too tired to even clench his facial muscles out of difficulty. Every muscle not immediately engaged in the activities was left unused.

And it wasn't like he could shift weight and save muscle power for later, or let herself rest any longer than the time given. If he did anything remotely lazy, he was greeted with a shout and a scolding voice. Fuhen began to wonder how his father could shout so much. he had seemed so nice before.

Finally, they were done. "All right, active rest." his father said. "You're done with pushups and burpies for today."

"Oh thank you..." Fuhen said, but before he could say more, his father spoke again.

"Oh, I didn't say you were done with everything. We have one more task. A plank." he said, still jogging in place.

Fuhen couldn't even say anything. This was too much. his heart sank in his chest. he had been so determined to overcome this challenge, and now there was more. Who was to say there wouldn't be more after that? When would this end? But before long he found herself in plank position, holding herself above the ground.

his father joinded her, sweating like a dog, but still going. his resolution was impressive. "Ready? Go." Fuhen wanted to ask how long they would be holding it, but he didn't want to know. All he had to do was stay up for a little while, and then a little while longer.

But the task was grueling. Fuhen's core, shoulders, arms, neck, and back were all blazing, and his legs were just tired. he wanted to collapse, but the presence of his father made his believe he could overcome herself for just a few more moments. Then, finally, he collapsed. his arms buckled from beneath his and he rolled to his side, breathing hard.

"Nice job, kid. Now let's run back home."
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 12:05 pm

Fuhen Stat Training #7 -- Taijutsu #2 #YOLO Normally, Fuhen did his training on his own. But today was a little bit different. Today, his father had convinced him to try some extreme sports activities. At least, extreme for her. The premise was that it would help him with him coordination, but he wasn't sure if that was right. Shouldn't he have really good coordination before he tried something like this? But his father promised not to let anything bad happen to her.

There was a massive amount of snow on one of the mountains that was actually accessible to him without breaking any rules, so he had rented some gear, and headed on out super early in the morning. he always had trouble waking up in the morning. It made him exhausted around 3 in the afternoon, and in the morning he felt like a zombie, but he had decided that it was worth it to keep doing so.

Today he was the first on the slopes, but they looked more dangerous than he had thought. his father was there too, all dressed up.

"All right, just follow my lead and don't die." he said to the young Frogman. And with that, he jumped onto the slope and began to snowboard all the way down. Fuhen frowned. Would this be a good time to mention he didn't do well with heights?

But there was no avoiding it. He needed to go or his father would push him and that would be even worse. So he did it voluntarily. He hopped down after his father, and instantly he felt the rush of wind and the biting cold. At first he was not going all that fast, but then within a few moments he was rocketing down the slope. He wanted to scream, but he knew that his father would scold him for giving into fear. Now that he thought of it, as nice a person as his father was for helping him out, he was not very nice in the actual act of helping. Most of the training sessions involved some level of fear of his father. Maybe that was something he needed to overcome.

In any case, the two rocketed down the mountain. This was Fuhen’s first time snowboarding, but he had done balance exercises so he was not completely unprepared. He was able to accomplish a lot in that one run, but afterwards him legs and abs were going to hurt a lot. As he went, he had to dodge some obstacles, which was hard because his father hadn’t actually taught him how to ride. he was kind of just trying it out as he went. It was kind of fun, though. It was just really hard. Besides the fact that he might die, he was actually starting to have fun.

He also had been given a parachute, but he wasn’t sure why. His father really didn’t tell him much, he just told him what to do. But he still trusted him. Strange as that was. But he had never let him down, so why should he harbor mistrust?

The slope ebbed and flowed with the mountainside. Some rocks jutted out, others dipped in. Several times he almost fell, and at this speed, falling could mean death. But nonetheless, he was getting the hang of this. It helped that he had his father to follow. he just kept him eyes on his father and him expert movement. It was like everything was so easy for his father, but by now Fuhen knew that it was only because of how hard he worked. It was a work ethic that Fuhen was doing him best to emulate.

Fuhen kept gaining more and more momentum, and as he did, it got harder and harder to control himself, but that was the whole point. He had to keep getting better, and parachute or not, losing control could mean death for her. Obviously that was not what he wanted, so he adjusted and fixed his balance, continuing to press on to the finish line, wherever that was. But the problem was, his father hadn’t shown him how to slow down. So this kept getting harder and harder and he had no way of stopping if he couldn’t handle it anymore. But that was just how his father rolled.

So on he went, him mind racing. He tried standing up and expanding his body to give air resistance. It slowed him down, but he started to wobble and he knew that if he kept doing that he was going to lose him balance and fall to a horrible snow covered death. So instead, he ducked down again to where he had be, and him speed again increased. he played around with holding him arms out to at least provide herself with a little drag, but the same thing happened. It just messed up his balance.

Finally he gave up trying new things and decided he just needed to work on staying up right. It was him immediate survival priority. If he couldn’t stay up, he was dead. So up he stayed. he wasn’t about to try something that was going to get him killed, especially when it was so hard to keep him balance. he was not very good at things like this, so he had to focus on one thing at a time.

She could still see his father up ahead of her, but the old man was going faster than Fuhen, which was amazing in and of itself, and was making no intention or attempt to slow or stop. But then Fuhen saw something that made him heart skip a beat. About a hundred yards ahead, there was a cliff. There was nothing underneath but air and rocks way down the way. he couldn’t turn, there was nowhere to go. They had chosen a line that had only one end. Fuhen panicked and tried to stop herself, but if he face planted he might die. his father wasn’t suicidal, he had to have a plan. But he started to slow down, and Fuhen caught up very quickly. Then his father accelerated again to keep speed, and the two launched off the cliff.

Fuhen screamed as he flew through the air, sure he would pass out. The ground below seemed to be coming toward him so fast. What could he do? Just then, his father grabbed him and pulled him close. “Fight for your life!” he shouted over the rushing wind. Then he began punching Fuhen in he side and stomach. The two grappled through the air, the ground rocketing toward them. But Fuhen couldn’t pull him chute while his father was holding onto him like that. he had to get free or they would both die. Maybe his father really was suicidal and he was taking Fuhen with him.

“You’re insane!” Fuhen screamed. he didn’t know anything about parachutes, but how much closer to the ground could they get before pulling the chutes? But yet the battle raged on. he took a hit to the face and him world spun, but he hit back. It was hard to fight in the air, but they grappled on. Fuhen punched, his father blocked and countered. Fuhen tried to defend, but wasn’t dexterous enough. Thankfully neither of them had knives on their person.

Then, at what seemed like the last moment, his father shouted, “Pull your chute!” he pushed away from Fuhen with him legs, separating them before he pulled him own chute and Fuhen did the same. The two jerked to a slower descent, but they still landed hard. Fuhen tried to roll with the ease that his father did, but when he looked, his father was actually unclipping while in the air. he dropped from the parachute with speed, rolled and jumped, spinning in the air to face Fuhen, and sliding to a stop on the ground. Yeah, he wasn’t going to do that.

Thankfully, the two were alive. Although Fuhen was a little tangled in him chute by the time all was said and done. But his father quickly got him untangled and stood there, beaming. “See? That wasn’t so bad.” he said with a grin.

“Are you kidding me? We just snowboarded off of a mountain top and parachuted ten clicks away. Someone had to have seen that, and now they’re going to think I’m running away!"
“Then I guess you’d better hurry.” his father said with a mischievous grin.

Fuhen was angry at his father, but he needed to get back before someone caught him. He unclipped from the parachute and left it there, running back. His father kept pace just by walking, which was a little embarrassing, but it didn’t matter. he needed to get back.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 3:43 pm

Fuhen Stat Training #8 -- Taijutsu #3 Childhood Squabbles Fuhen was getting a little tired of training if He was to be honest. He had done some cool things with his father, and had done some other things alone, but all of it was kind of running together by now. He had been trying to do two full training sessions per day, each taking up an hour and a half. This had been great in the beginning, but now He just wanted a break. He hadn't taken a day off in at least two weeks, and his attitude was struggling. Thankfully though, today would shake things up just a little bit.

his father had taken some time out of his busy schedule to help Fuhen work on his hand to hand combat skills for a little while. It might not be for the full hour and a half, or it might just be. Who knew? He was told to meet at a specific location, but as He got close to it, He saw a couple of kids in an alley beating up another kid. That would not stand. He couldn't call for help of course, and sadly, no one would remember what happened, but he had to get involved.

He ran up to one of them, who was probably four years younger than him, and grabbed him by the neck, trying to push him out of the way. But there were three of them, and the kid on the ground wouldn't be helping. What had He gotten himself into?

He pulled up his guard and went on the offensive, trying to land a kick on another prepubescent runt. But the kid caught his kick and pushed his back, making him fall on the ground. He rolled backward to stand, but now he was in a corner and all three of the kids were against him. One of them stayed by the little kid on the ground to make sure he didn't get away, so at least it was only two on one. At least for now.

Thise was a chubby one and a skinny one. Chubby went in first, trying to use his weight to his advantage. Fuhen was taller than both of them, but he was not good at fighting yet. He needed to get better at this. That was why he had scheduled to work with his fatherBut the plan had been to improve before needing it in real life, not after. Training hewould do in the future was of no use to his right now. He passed the first punch he threw rather easily, which was surprising since he had not been doing much easily lately. Maybe it was all that training he had been doing with his father.

The kid flew past him and into a big pile of trash, spilling it everywhise. Fuhen was about to look to make sure he was out, but then skinny came in, and he was fast. He tried to kick his in the knee before flipping to kick his in the face. He was spry.

She dodged the first kick and blocked the second, using both arms to protect himself. This put the kid in a vulnerable position, and he was about to take advantage of it, but then he felt the ground shaking and turned just in time to get plowed over by fatty. His blubber seemed to fold around his and in that moment He was drowning in the smell of garbage.

She shouted as he hit a wall and tried to get away, but punches were coming in. Thankfully the skinny kid had stayed back to watch. Fatty went for the stomach more than anything. Was he sure he didn't want to run? The kid would probably be safe, and no one would remember what had happened. But He was not about to give up so easily. If He couldn't take on a few punk kids how was He going to survive his chuunin ordeal?

But then, all in one moment, in a flash of movement, his father showed up and kicked those kids to kingdom come. His speed was amazing. In two seconds flat all offenders were flat on the ground, and Fuhen was on his way out of the alley with a kid over his shoulder.

"We can talk about that later. For now, let's continue on with the regularly scheduled program." He said, putting the kid in a place where he would be safe and continuing on with Fuhen. The two then walked into the gym whise they had planned to work out. It was the same empty gym that they had worked out in before, and this time would be no different. But last time, they had worked on stamina. This time they would be working on over all fighting ability. He was excited to be closer the the more precise parts of the training, but he knew he had some work ahead of him.

His father climbed into the ring with Fuhen and began to instruct him. He was much more low key than normal. Fuhen wondered why that was.

"All right, so let's talk about what happened in that alley. I pretty much saw the whole thing, so I want to make sure you know how you could have been better."

"You were thise the whole time?" He asked. "Then why didn't you help me right away?" Fuhen asked.

"Because then we wouldn't have anything to talk about here. No, you neeed a real test of fighting skill so we could work through what you need to improve. Now, if you're done with your complaining, let's get to work." He said.

Chubby came at his like the last time, and He parried just like the last time. There was no trash, but he was now behind his. "Stop!" his father said. "What should you do right now?" He asked.

"Uh, get ready for what's coming at me?" He said. He was only guessing, and his father didn't like it.

"Wrong! You just gave your back to your opponent! You must move so that you can see both. But that's why you got blindsided. You need to be more aware of your surroundings if you ever hope to win at this. So try it now, move to the side so that you can see me." He said. Fuhen did so, moving his feet to the side so that He could now see both the fat one and the skinny one. So now, when the skinny one came at his, He could still see that the fat one was getting up, so that when the skinny one jumped for the kick, He not only blocked, but grabbed the leg and threw him into he fat one.

Both of them went down, and his father shouted again. "Yes! That's what I mean! Do you see how you can fight more than one opponent if you don't give them your blind side? Never show your back to an opponent. All right, let's move on. This is where we stopped, but what if the third comes in now?" He asked, making anothis clone who transformed into the image of the kid who had not gotten involved. He was in the middle, weight wise, and Fuhen now had to do something else. He moved just like He had the first time, making sure He could see all three his fathis's at the same time. That way none of them could get the jump on his. He circled each time they tried to surround him, making sure they never did. But now He seemed to be at a stalemate.

"But now what do I do, though? It's three versus one!"
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 3:52 pm

Fuhen Stat Training #9 -- Taijutsu #4 Father-Son Bonding Fuhen was now finished with his break. He was still sweating a lot, but he had gotten his wind back. The two were still in the ring. His father was leaning against the ropes, and Fuhen was bent over, panting. But time was up. They had more training to do.

“Guard up. I’m coming again.” And they were at it without a bell. It was more than a boxing match. For Fuhen, it was an all out Mixed Martial Arts brawl. For his father, it was child’s play. But Fuhen didn’t mind.

Fuhen ducked an incoming hook shot, bringing his arms up to block the knee that was coming. But rather than kneeing her, he felt an arm snake around his neck and in an instant, he was airborne. A second later, he was on his back on the mat. His father had lifted his up and slammed him onto the mat beneath them. Thankfully, the mat was pretty cushioned, but it still knocked the wind out of him. His father grinned gleefully.

“Now we’ll be working on grappling!” And with that, he moved to cut off Fuhen’s options, bringing the girl to tap out in two and a half seconds.

“No fair! I wasn’t ready!” Fuhen complained. It was his first complaint in almost a week his attitude was radically shifting from his time before.

“Do you think your opponent is going to tell you before they try to pull something like that? I don’t think so.” he said, now straddling Fuhen’s waist and pinning his arms to the mat.

Fuhen didn’t bother arguing. He knew a teaching point was coming. “All right, walk me through it.” He said, resigned.

“All right, grappling is pretty simple in concept, but massively complex in the inter workings. Basically the idea is to cut off your opponent’s options. It’s kind of like chess. In chess, you make various offensive or defensive moves. You attack, you counter, you retreat. It’s the same on the battle field, and it’s the same with grappling. Now, I want you to start by lifting your hips up. This is called a bridge. You’re in a compromised situation right now, but it’s not impossible to get out. Go on, bridge.” As he said so, Fuhen lifted up his hips, bucking into his father’s open stance. he felt his father relax his grip a little, allowing his to execute the maneuver as if they were evenly matched.

“You need to break the opponent’s balance. Throw them off their game.” he said, shifting his position effortlessly into an arm bar, with both hands around the girl’s wrist, and his legs across his chest. “This is an arm bar. Grab your hand with your left hand and pull against me to avoid tapping out.” He said. Fuhen tried to do so, but it was hard. His father always let himself be a little bit stronger than Fuhen, who was using all his strength and energy. His hair was all in his face, and his clothing was completely rumpled. Super fucking sexy. Thankfully this was an abandoned warehouse. There was no one here to see, so there was nothing to worry about.

“Grappling is like chess. Control the inside, and you control everything. But don’t get surrounded, or you’ll be overwhelmed.” he said, his words sounding so sage.

The two practiced like this for a while, not stopping for a rest or anything. But finally, it was time to stop. They both needed another break, but his father was already planning their next training routine. Fuhen just wasn’t sure what it would be. So finally, he stepped forward and pointed to a balance beam way off across the room. But what Fuhen didn’t see right away was that it wasn’t a beam that was just set in the ground. This one moved.

“All right, balance again. Let’s go. Hop up there and walk from one side to the other.” his father said, not letting up at all. he could be a little annoying sometimes, but whenever they weren’t training, Fuhen really did appreciate his father. It was just when his father put on that trainer face that he had trouble with the man.

Personal problems aside, his father was an awesome trainer and had succeeded in pushing the young frog boy beyond what he had thought to be possible. So when he was told to get up on the beam, he got up on the beam. he began walking, but this was kind of like the time when he had tried to balance on a railing. It was harder though, because it was both thinner, and wobbly. But he did as he was told and mounted the contraption. What happened next, he did not expect.

His father jumped up onto the beam with fluid motion, not even shaking the beam. he landed so soft. Fuhen wondered if that was with chakra, or just pure ability. he was sure it was pure ability, but maybe one day he would find that his father had some super cool secret, but for now he had to stay focused.

When his father got on the moving beam, he beckoned for Fuhen to advance more toward the center so they could face off. Nothing was ever normal with this man. So Fuhen advanced to the center, taking a moment to look below her. There was about a seven foot drop, and under them was padding, but it didn’t look very thick.

He got to the center, and his father spoke. “All right, speed drill again, but this time while focusing on balance, too. Ready? Go.” he said, throwing the first punch. Fuhen was used to this drill by now. His arms still hurt from being smacked so hard when his father had sped up. So on they went, doing the speed drill. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. On and on they went, not stopping, not slowing, only getting faster and faster.

Fuhen wasn’t sure how long they would be at this, but especially in the beginning, it was hard to keep his balance with the twisting motion and the increasing speed. Once he did fall, but his father caught his before he fall all the way, and let his drop safely to the mat. How kind of her.

“Again.” he said, and Fuhen complied. The fire inside his was bigger than the fire within his muscles. It had to be. It was the only thing that was keeping his going. The build up of lactic acid in his muscles hurt, but he knew that that night they would be able to lay in the mud baths and that would clear everything up. That and a lot of water.

So on they went. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. On and on without slowing down. They kept getting faster and faster. Fuhen’s hands got heavy. his arms wanted to fall down, but his father would not let her. “Don’t lose your strength.” he said, again and again. “Maximum effort!” Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over it went. The monotony was abundant and almost suffocating, but he had to focus with renewed effort on each punch, each block, each parry, each counter. If he lost focus for even a moment, he would fail, and this time he was sure his father wouldn’t catch her.

On and on and on they went. Fuhen tried to keep the speed up, but his father kept wanting to go faster. “Don’t lose your form.” his father would say. But Fuhen couldn’t do anything about it. All he could do was not quit. But again as if reading his mind, his father said, “don’t think you get bonus points for trying. If you give in and lose form, you’ve already quit.” Fuhen grimaced, his face twisting against the remark. Sometimes he hated this man's standards, but in the end those standards would be the thing that helped him survive

Her breath was coming in gasps at this point. he could barely see through the river of stinging sweat that soaked his eyes. he tried to wipe the sweat away, but his father reached out with massive speed and pulled the arm back into the drill, not letting him stop. he was going on feeling now, and it was not enough.

"Sloppy!" his father shouted at him. "You're getting sloppy! Don't let a little sweat make you lose here! Do you think your opponent will let you wipe the sweat from your eyes in a real fight? No they won't. Again!" Inside, outside, cover, hit. They had been doing this for nearly ten minutes now and his guard was coming down. Inside, outside, cover, hit.

"One more set of five." his father said. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. "Done."
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 3:58 pm

Fuhen Stat Training #10 -- Taijutsu #5 Drills to Drill to Heaven! After the incident on the mountain, Fuhen wasn’t sure why he even hung out with his father anymore. He was a bad influence. But still, they hadn’t gotten caught, so he was ultimately fine. And none of the wounds he’d sustained lasted more than a day or two. So why was he so bent out of shape? Really, he just wanted to know what was going on. He needed to know the plan before it was time to act. It was who he was, and it was how he worked. But his father was completely against that. He seemed to have the plan in his head, if there was a plan at all, and to tell Fuhen what to do only at the last moment before he needed to know. It was getting a little annoying.

He had already been doing some agility warm ups that day. He had practiced balancing, swinging, done a few laps of hurdles, and some more. He was warmed up and ready to go.

And so, there he was, in a currently abandoned warehouse, ready to train again. Today was agility day again. The warehouse was all set up with various kinds of equipment. It looked like a decked out gym, just really really old. Everything was covered in dust. Had no one used this place in forever, or what? Clearly his father had not set it up just for her.

But as usual, he left no time for chit chat. “Fuhen, get over here. You’re three minutes late.” How could he possibly know that? They were inside a mountain and there were no clocks around. his father was eccentric, but he was the only path Fuhen knew to be a Samurai.

“First phase, in the right. Hut to.” his father said. He spoke about twenty five percent faster than most people Fuhen knew. But it was how he rolled. Fuhen climbed in the ring and began jumping back and forth. He knew they would be fighting, and he seriously hoped that his father would take it easy on her. Although he usually didn’t.

his father came right over to his and tried to punch him in the face. Thankfully, he wasn’t going full speed. It was just a jab that could easily be parried, and parry he did. He passed one punch, then another. Both about the same speed. But then things changed. his father brought a knee into the mix, jumping forward powerfully, though definitely not at his full strength.

“Defend yourself!” he said, bringing in another punch. He slowly increased the speed of the punches and interchanged hands and feet until Fuhen was in his stretch zone. The stretch zone was something his father talked about a lot. It was that place where you weren’t comfortable, but you weren’t panicking. It was the fine line between challenge and overwhelm, and his father was an expert at getting Fuhen there and keeping his there.

He brought the heat, breathing with a loud hissing noise every time he tried to strike. He did not go for the vital areas, and if Fuhen couldn’t block in time, he slowed his punch massively and only left a small force at the end of it. He was a good trainer, and Fuhen knew he was getting better because of this man.

The two went back and forth for a few minutes, and already Fuhen was sweating. It was a good thing he had warmed up before hand. Otherwise he would be toast by now, even with his father holding back. Hand to hand combat was not Fuhen’s specialty by a long shot. In fact, it was one of the things that he struggled with the most. But practicing with his father meant when someone came at his in a fight, he would be ready for it. It would increase his reaction time and his instincts, specifically those relating to taijutsu.

Fuhen even got a few punches in himself, but each of them was met with a counter that Fuhen wasn’t ready for, resulting in a glare and a less than kind word of advice about leaving his guard open. his father was really big into protecting yourself, and dishing it back out. He used every attack an opponent made on his to turn the tables again and get what he called initiative in a fight. And that was what he was in the process of teaching to Fuhen - how to gain initiative no matter the opponent, and keep them on their heals without giving them a chance to counter. It was really fun to watch his father, but it was too bad that it was always against Fuhen. It meant he had to look through sweat drenched eyes, and around the punches that were always coming in.

Finally, the two took a break. But in the middle of the break, his father started to move. Fuhen started to jump around again, raising his guard. He was ready for another round, even if he was super tired. But his father had other plans.

“Cut it out. We’re not boxing, get over here.” his father said with a bit of annoyance in his voice. Which was odd.

Fuhen came over to his father and stood there, looking inquisitively at her. Then finally, his father gave the instructions. “We’re going to be practicing some basic combos. Now, this first one is one that doesn’t really have a name, but it’s got a mantra. You could call it a speed drill. Here’s the process. Throw a punch.” Fuhen threw a punch. “First you go inside with your front hand.” he said, putting his right hand on the inside of Fuhen’s wrist. “Then you go outside.“ The man said as he moved again as explained, putting his left hand on the outside of Fuhen’s wrist. “Then you cover,” and with this, he took the right hand and brought it under the hand, then over top, and puHed it away. “Now hit.” And with that, he returned another punch.

“Inside, outside, cover, hit. Four steps that will get you practicing your agility with your hands. Now it’s your turn.” Fuhen did as he was told, replicating the process. But at the end it was awkward. What had he done wrong?

“You need to start with your front hand or that will happen. You want the cover to be with your back hand and the hit to be with your front hand.” he said as he performed the motion with effortless ease.

Fuhen tried again, this time doing it in the right order. It still felt awkward, but he didn’t mind. his father wasn’t scolding his for poor form or anything, he just wordlessly returned the motion, and had it returned again. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. It soon became a rhythm, and Fuhen’s focus began to shift to other things. But then his form got sloppy and his father brought his back to reality. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Over and over the two went back and forth. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Even when Fuhen was focusing on it, it kept getting harder because his father kept going faster. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. his hands were a blur by now, and every time it came back to Fuhen, he went slower than his father. He just couldn't keep up.

Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. The rhythm and monotony was exhausting. his shoulders started to burn, but it really was starting to get easier. It was almost like it was starting to go in slow motion. Inside. Outside. Cover. Hit. But then it would speed up again. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. The cadence was steady. Fast, then slow. Fast, then slow. It was like Morse Code, but with the slapping of palm skin against the flesh of his arm. his father seemed to be getting a little carried away. The "cover" was now more like a slap. It hurt, but Fuhen couldn't return the ferocity that he was clearly looking for. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit.

The slapping was as loud as it was painful. Fuhen's arms were both red and felt raw. They had been slapped more times than misbehaving child. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. He tried to go faster, but he could feel herself slowing down. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Come on boy, you can do this! he thought to herself. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit.

"Twenty more seconds, double time." his father said, not breaking a sweat. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Everything hurt, but the pain didn't matter anymore. This was the end, then he would get a break. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit. Inside, outside, cover, hit.

"Done." Said his father.

Finally!
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Sun Jun 17, 2018 4:08 pm

Fuhen Stat Training #11 -- Taijutsu #6 Ice-bound Battle
Fuhen walked tentatively onto the mountain lake, which was entirely iced over. The air was thin and the hike had been long. he was already out of breath. But his body regulated quickly. he stepped out onto the ice with two swords in hand.

He wanted to try to somehow work through these moves without someone, but he had predicted even before he had come up that he would need a training partner, so he brought his father.

His opponent had a knife. He was not exactly a renowned samurai, but he knew how to wield his weapons, so he had had more time to flesh out his style. He was one of the few that had taken at least some interest in Fuhen, and had been happy to come up and help him.

The two began by simply circling each other, then Fuhen made the first move. He stepped forward intending to use one sword to block and parry the knife, and the other to make his move. But he quickly discovered that the ice was very slippery. he had never tried to fight on ice before. This would be a new challenge for him, but at least his opponent was at a similar disadvantage.

Fuhen brought both blades up, each held upside down, and blocked the knife in a cross formation. Steel clashed against steel, sending sparks dancing across the frozen lake. Fuhen had to fight to get up before the next attack came in. he had planned to be on the offensive, but was very quickly put on the defensive in this match, and his opponent's fighting ability was a little better than his, as well, and he was not pulling any punches. He slashed again, and he blocked again as he tried to scramble backward. But his father was faster, and was again over his this time slashing at his feet.

The boy split his legs in a scissors kick, attempting to sweep his opponent's legs out from under him. It almost worked, and knocked him off balance, but he stayed standing. Still, that was enough time for his to push past any kind of inhibition he had had and finally stand once more to his feet, kunai still in hand. he shifted to a low stance to preserve his balance, testing his ability to grip the ice. It was practically non existent, though. he had no chance of a lunging move. he would have to counter his.

He kept that low center of gravity, both blades at the ready, and continued to circle to prevent him from getting to his back. He came again, slashing once more downward with his knife. Fuhen shifted to the side and parried the blade with his katana before trying to slash the other blade across the man's rib cage. His feet were still gripping the ice very well, though, and he had nothing to worry about. He just slipped right by his and regained his stance. he was wondering if he had tried to take on too big a challenge. This was ridiculous. But no, not yet. he could go a little longer. Besides, he still had not landed a single blow on her. In chess terms, he was behind on positioning, but he still had all his pieces.

He pushed hisself, slipping and sliding across the ice like a child. But then he had a thought. What if he used the ice to his advantage? Maybe he could plan an offensive to take place while he was sliding across the ice. he began to plan the assault, but he had to do it carefully. It would be an act of surprise that should catch his father off guard enough to get a shot in.

In the mean time, he had to continue to parry and block incoming attacks. He came in strong, planting his feet strongly on the ice each time he took a swing. He swung downward in a slashing motion, and the girl blocked. He slashed diagonally, and he batted the sword away. Another slash came in, this time from the side. This time though, he pushed forward as he went to block. he tried to keep a solid stance, but he had no grip and was sent sliding across the lake. he wanted to stay standing, but he could not. he was sent reeling across the ice, and had to use his kunai to dig into the ice and regain his balance. That gave his an idea.

He used the blades to launch himself across the ice, letting himself slide toward the again advancing enemy. He tried to slash at him, but he parried the blade and slid past him, slashing at his leg while he did. It worked! He heard him grunt and saw the blood drip from his blade. He had landed the first hit, but now he would be ready for something similar. The element of surprise was gone. Or was it? He just needed to make him lose his advantage of balance and grip. But how?

He got to his feet again, and dug a sword into the ice, deep and secure. He then stood on the other side of it and used it to push against, launching himself again forward at his enemy. He was expecting his this time though, so he had to be sneaky. Before he got to him, he took the other blade in his hand and crouched down on the ice. Before he got to his and he got to him, he dove to the left, stabbing the blade into the ice and swinging himself around on it, giving his a powerful sweeping motion with which to kick at his legs.

The chuunin went down, stumbling over the kick and sliding on the ice. Fuhen used the katana to stand again, and ripped it out of the ice to continue to use. He made his way toward him, and saw his leg still bleeding. He tried to get up, using his blade as an aid, but it was harder for him.

Fuhen made it over to him, but not in time to catch him off guard. He was back up and on his feet. That had been a good strategy, though. Maybe he could use it again. But he was expecting anything now. he had to stay away from the low moves. Maybe he could go high, or throw one of the swords. That would be closer to his expertise.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
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Re: Jus' Somma That Trainin'

Post by Nick » Mon Aug 27, 2018 7:31 am

Fuhen Jutsu Training #11 -- Mugen Ittoryu #2 One By Twelve, My Blades Delve. Twelve By Two, My Enemies Rue.

[976/900]
Jutsu TrainedShow
Multiplication
A-Ranked Taijutsu Maneuver
Requires: Addition
In the middle of performing Addition, when the last strike occurs and before the blades fall free, the user will carefully strike one of the blades sticking out of the opponent. This will the blade to dig deeper into the flesh of the target, causing the wounds to be even deeper. Multiplication also sets off a chain reaction with the rest of the blades from Addition, causing each blade to strike the next in sequence, ensuring that every blade used is lodged deep into the enemy. After the chain reaction occurs, the blades fall away in a similar fashion to Addition, ready to be used again at a moments notice.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
Ninja Info CardsShow

Grand Shogun of River
Suzuko
Just another girl

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