Name: [Tier III] Flash Speed
Rank: A
Type: Physical
Prerequisites: Character must have the “Advanced Speed” Special Characteristic.
Training: A 1600 word training post is required to gain this special characteristic.
Restrictions: The Character must have either Taijutsu or Weaponry as one of their specialties.
Description: Years of training one’s speed has lead them to the next evolutionary step in their ability. The shinobi can now go up to thrice as fast compared to others of equal rank. On top of this large speed boost, those with this speed can essentially outrun cheetahs and even appear as a swift blur to unsuspecting bystanders who happen to notice the character. Unfortunately, the high speed training does very little in further improving one’s already great stamina.


The forests of fire country were lush and verdant, quite a change from the normally mountainous Lightning country. Takeshi Gouka, code name Jestre, KYOBU operative, made his way through the thick, dense arboreal verdance, making as good of time as he could on his "mission," if it could be called that. The trees flickered by in his peripheral vision in a blue, and he knew to anyone watching, he himself would appear as little more than a black, blurry afterimage before passing from sight, unhindered and unaccosted. All the same, as he pressed on, he couldn't help but feel he wasn't living up to his full potential. He was fast, yes, but was he jounin fast? The promotion had come as something of a surprise, prior to his being sent out, and all he could feel was that he did not yet deserve the rank. He was fast, but he was not fast.

He knew what kind of speed he needed. It was a speed his deceased mentor, the KYOBU Mongoose, had possessed. During Gouka's physical recovery, the man had drilled him tirelessly on the value of speed, usually through demonstration. The man could do far more than appear as little more than a flicker and a blur in an enemies eyes; to Gouka, he had all but vanished, appearing from one place to the next with no discernible movement. To the unwary eye, Mongoose had looked to simply teleport from one target to the next, even one even saw the strike at all. He cast a glance down to his legs, a twitch of a frown behind his mask as he observed his legs before turning his eye back to the path before him. He needed to move faster.

His muscles tightened as he began pushing off harder from the ground, all but leaping from one step to the next. A puff of dirt and disturbed leaves greeted each step as he powered on, striving to make each step a little farther than the next. True speed wasn't about how fast one could move their feet; a shinobi who had spent dedicated years of his life mastering the art of movement still took each step roughly as fast as an average civilian. No, what made the difference was how much distance one could cover with each step; how far they could "leap" without necessarily leaving the ground. The key was to move like a gazelle, each step taking mere fractions of a second to complete, but vast amounts of distance between each step. Move fast enough, and ones feet would rarely touch the ground often enough to be considered running, so much as flying.

With a sudden twist, he launched himself to the side, twirling through the air to plant his feet heavily against a tree, not even sticking long enough to require chakra before kicking off, launching himself like a bullet through the air; he sailed over the head of a confused and baffled looking doe and fawn, slamming into the ground on the far side of them with barely a missed step, the animals not even having time to perceive the threat and bolt before he was already gone, leaving, to them, only the scent of old, stale blood. He pressed on, his muscles straining mightily with each step.

Gouka worked carefully, methodically; each breath left his lungs as his foot slammed against the ground, the force shocking along his body and compressing his lungs, and each new inhalation was taken as he stepped off, stretching his body and relieving the pressure on his lungs, giving them more space for that breath of life begetting air. His heart thumped silently inside his chest, a dull, pounding drum as he pushed himself to go harder, to go faster. He had always had an affinity for speed. If he could only run fast enough, he could escape...

He silenced the thought violently, but the damage was done; he wavered, as as his next foot slammed down, it did do improperly and at entirely the wrong angle. He threw himself forward, diverting the momentum rapidly before he snapped his ankle like a twig, his hands clamping down across his chest as he tucked in as best as he could, grunting as he slammed into the ground, tumbling and spinning in a spray of dirt and twigs and leaves. A rock pinged off his mask, and he wheezed explosively as he thumped into a tree, finally coming to a halt as the air was forced from his lungs. It was fortunate there were no witnesses, otherwise Gouka felt he might have had to kill them to preserve his reputation.

He rolled onto his back, his mask slipping off and into the soft loam, dislodged by the impact, as his dead, oceanic blue eyes gazed up through the tree foilage high above. He could see patches of sky between the branches, hear the occasional flit and twitter of a bird. Escape. Had he always been trying to escape? Fate, tragedy, life... His speed had been given birth by his light hearted "escaping" from Kirima in his academy days. After the cave had left him sans family and physical ability, he had run to forget the pain. The faster he moved, the more intensely he had to focus on moving so as not to mess up. The less time his inner demons had to catch up to him.

He sat up slowly, leaves clinging to his hair as he picked up his mask, staring at the expressionless porcelain. He wondered; did he still run to escape, or did he hope to meet death coming the other way? Did he press himself to be the best, or in the hopes of making a tragic mistake? The mask held no answers for him as he silently replaced it, making his way up to his feet, brushing off dirt and leaves. He stretched his back, wincing as his ribs twinged, obviously bruised from the impact with the tree. He would have to take more care. The moment of reflection had nearly cost him dearly, and he could ill afford delays. Clearing his head of cobwebs and popping his joints, he set off once more, starting off slowly but quickly building up the pace until his muscles strained once again.

The miles melted away quickly under his stride. Each step was unto a kick to the earth, launching him further and further each time. Muscles coiled and sprung and strained, growing hot with exertion. His breathing became a little heavier with each impact, his hard pounding harder and harder in his chest, each dull thud louder than the last. He had never yet pushed himself so hard, for so long before. A dull ache began to form, starting in his legs, deep down in the very bones. The ache spread further and further, compounding along his body with each passing moment, each passing mile. If he slipped up and fell now, he'd likely be unable to prevent injury, as focused as he was on just putting on foot in front of the other, step after long, leaping step. His trench coat had long since broken loose of its bindings, flapping in the wake of his passage as it trailed behind him, too focused to take the time to stop and rebind it.

'In... and out... in... and out...' He tried to lose himself in the mantra, ignoring how painfully slowly each breath seemed to filter through his mask, lungs slowly rasping for more and more air. His heart pounded a rapid staccato beat in his chest, seemingly thumping against his ribs. The bone wrenching ache had grown stronger and stronger, the legs of his muscles beginning to form white hot lines of pain from the continued pressure to continue. 'This... cannot be it... I can't be... at my limit...' As hard as he strained himself, he could hardly feel as if he were moving any faster; indeed, if anything, he was beginning to feel slower as weariness began to take its toll on his strained body. He wavered in his path, nearly implanting himself into a large oak at rather terminal velocity ad he drunkenly corrected his path, beginning to lose focus as, despite his long, deep breaths, his body was failing to convert the life saving oxygen through the muscular process of generating energy fast enough to keep  up. His limit, it seemed, was being reached, without any significant improvement.

In desperation, he began consciously molding chakra into his legs, diverting a dangerous amount of attention from his headlong bullet run to try and do something, anything, to ease the tension, to eke out just a little more speed, some level of improvement. Focused as he was, he did not hear the slithering rustling sound of scales sliding along some cold, hard floor, even if the sound has only been in his head. There was a hissing sound not unlike a verbal sneer. PATHETIC. I MAY NOT YET HAVE THE ENERGY TO MAKE YOU MINE, BUT I WILL NOT SUFFER A WEAK HOST ONCE MY POWER IS RESTORED. Of course, the voice spoke only to itself, but the effect was immediate as something darker, more sinister, began worming through Gouka's coils.

The chakra reached his legs, and suddenly, the pain and weariness did not seem nearly so great. Muscles were eased, soothed, and stretched more easily, his leaps getting longer, faster. His heart rate slowed, and his lungs no longer so desperately craved air. He could feel his entire body... tightening, elongating, he couldn't name the sensation. Trees were passing as such a blurring, dizzying pace, he could barely make them out at all. His feet barely had more than a moment to feel the firm ground beneath them before his was launched off again, weaving a dizzyingly fast pace through the tree.

Chewing thoughtlessly on some leaves, a large buck, with a set of fine, thick antlers, startled and reared, sharp hooves lashing out in reactionary defense, as a line of leaves exploded before him. The buck's heart raced wildly as it prepared to flee, but it saw... Nothing. True, the leaves had seemingly parted in a rapid, explosive path before it, but still, no bear or no wolves stood before it, therefore, it must have simply been a gust of wind. The buck returned to chewing contentedly on its meal, while already a half mile away, Gouka was beginning to understand what "speed" meant.

Word Count: 1740

Name: [Tier II] Enhanced Acrobatics
Rank: B
Type: Physical
Prerequisites: Character must have the “Improved Acrobatics” Special Characteristic.
Training: A 1200 word training post is required to gain this special characteristic.
Restrictions: The Character must have either Taijutsu, Weaponry, or Medical as one of their specialties.
Description: Through further training the ninja has become even more proficient in the arts of aerialism to the point that they are now more flexible than their peers. They are able to not only do incredible feats using aerial maneuvers such as flips and corkscrews, but they can also bend and rotate their bodies in ways their peers wouldn’t be able to do.

The foliage of Konoha was thick; much thicker than anything Gouka had any experience with. While it was true Kumo had its own trees, they were usually much sparser on the mountains and plateaus that made up his home country. Most of his experience with them came from the "diversified landscape" training grounds; the ones designed to give the trainees using them an all-terrain practice. While their abundance made for many more places to land from one jump to the next, it also presented a host of new obstacles.

He repressed a flinch as another branch scratched across his mask in his headlong flight, failing yet again to twist completely out of the way from one branch to the next as he launched himself through the air. Traveling along the road would have been faster, yes, but a close call with a merchant caravan had convinced the shinobi that a route through the trees would be less interrupted by either hostiles or witnesses. He may have been on a peace mission, but that didn't mean he wanted his presence announced in advance of him arriving at the gate.

Still, he was beginning to question his decision. Thick as the foliage was, he was forced to move at a mere fraction of his normal speed, lest he get lacerated by all the wayward branches. As it was, likely the only reason the convoy hadn't yet caught up with him was the simple fact that a group of hundreds had little choice but to use the roads, and was always limited to the speed of its slowest individual. With a large bulk of the convoy consisting of civilians, that was, for a ninja, very slow indeed. All the same, he could not tolerate this continued lack of speed.

He impacted on a branch with a grunt, a burst application of chakra arresting further momentum and latching him onto the sturdy, broad oak beam as he surveyed the path before him. The Konoha foliage crisscrossed thickly before him in the higher branches, creating a veritable mesh and weave of lashing twigs and obscuring leaves. The lower branches were somewhat less thick, but also farther and fewer between, sometimes too great a distance for even his remarkable skills to bridge in a single leap. Finding the sweet spot was difficult, as too low gave too little ground, and moving too high caused too much blockage, not to mention the smaller, weaker branches snapping under his feet as he impacted on them. More than once the black-clad Kumogakure KYOBU had saved himself from a long, hard fall, only by the grace of his reflexes and the daggers belted at his waist, along with the sturdy wire attached to them.

Gouka continued carefully eye-balling the path before him. Silence rang throughout the tree, save for the birdsong of the small, feathered things flitting through the upper branches, which he soon drowned out. His gazed roved back and forth across the maze of interwoven obstacles before him, slowly identifying the patterns of the laced foliage. To his perceptive gaze, there were patterns in everything, if you only stared and studied long enough. And Gouka was, amongst other things, very good at staring and studying in unnerving silence for greatly extended periods of time. Haste did not serve a KYOBU operative well when they only had one chance to take down an assassination target.

Study the pattern, find the right path, go for it. Simple in theory, but it would be no faster if he spent minutes at a time examining each path between leaps. He would need to perfect the art of doing so quickly, of twisting and contorting his body to fit through the right path. He pressed onwards, faster and faster, until he dodged as quickly as he moved and he moved as easily as he breathed. As each breathe slowly and softly rustled against the inside of his mask, they began to come more and more slowly, each inhale filling his lungs to capacity, holding, and slowly releasing. In, and out. In, and out. Sensation began to fade away. There were no trees, no birdsong, and no mission. There was not a shattered wreck of a human being, desperately clinging to their lone identity as a shinobi. There was only the branch beneath his boots, the next branch along in his path, and the intervening distance in-between.

In, and out. In, and out. In...

With a tightening of muscles he launched himself forward, the force of his propulsion cracking the bark as he departed, viciously breaking the chakra bond that had been keeping him in place. As he flew through the air, he began to twist, turning in a half-corkscrew as he launched a path through the branches barely wider than his shoulders, only a faint rustling of leaves marking his passage. He passed through the foliage, and rapidly curled in on himself, a bundled ball in the air, twisting around to land boots first on the next branch, which groaned under the impact. Before gravity could begin to take effect, before he could even begin to need chakra, his gaze ran rapidly over the continued expanse of branches and he launched off again, the old wood relieved of his weight with a quiet groan.

He still wasn't making quite his apex speed, but certainly faster than before. The foliage still clawed at him as he darted past from one aerial flip to the next, but he was getting better at twisting and contorting his body between the spaces in the branches. Thick green leaves scattered before him as his passage ripped them from his branches, landing with a heavy thud on his next destined branch, muscles coiling like steel springs as he prepared to launch himself off- only to lurch awkwardly mid-air as the branch caved under his feet with a mighty snap. Gouka silently cursed as he began to fall, all of his forward momentum lost completely in the failed launch-off, the casual reminder of gravity quickly becoming a firm reprimand, to end in a fatal corporal punishment if he continued his fall. Reacting quickly, his arm snapped out, an ebony blade hissing through the air, followed by the even louder hiss of the wire trailing it, the black dagger impacting heavily into the trunk of a sturdy, thick oak.

The wire hissed as it spun, Gouka’s gloved hand wrapping around it and arresting further unspooling with a loud twang, a grunt of exertion escaping him as his weight pulled on the wire, swinging him about the tree. Before he could direct his path to another branch however, snapping, crackling bark marked the release of the blade from the tree, forcing him into free-fall once more. Snapping out his other arm, his second blade quickly impacted into a tree trunk, but his fall had taken him too far now; swinging downwards along the wire, Gouka jerked at the last second as he reached the bottom of the swing, freeing his blade before quickly curling up, tucking his knees in as he tumbled along the ground.

This fall was a fair bit different from his last tumble, however; even as he spun, within his mind his orientation remained clear, and timing it perfectly, his feet jerked out, impacting against the ground as he spun and launching him upwards. Even as he continued to rotate, he twisted his feet under him, impacting heavily to a tree and sticking like glue as chakra flared from his feet. Barely missing a stride, his booted feet launched him up the tree, back into the higher branches. He took greater care to watch for the dead branches like the one that had given under him, but Takeshi Gouka certainly had his feet under him now.



Word Count:1297

Name: [Tier III] Swift Acrobatics
Rank: A
Type: Physical
Prerequisites: Character must have the “Enhanced Acrobatics” Special Characteristic.
Training: A 1600 word training post is required to gain this special characteristic.
Restrictions: The Character must have either Taijutsu, Weaponry, or Medical as one of their specialties.
Description: By further training their proficiency in aerial maneuvering as well as their flexibility a swift acrobat can not only perform various aerial maneuvers on command but they can also jump to greater heights as well as safely fall greater distances.

A grass-clothed and wind-swept clearing rustled in the silence of the great oaken forests of the Fire Country. Majestic oaks dozens, some even hundreds of feet tall, and equally old, shivered in the cooling breeze. The sun sat lazily on the horizon, almost ponderously, as if only barely hanging above the brim of the world, thought twilight, and nightfall, were still a goodly few hours yet away. A small creek babble and gurgled near the treeline, weaving between thick oaken trunks before disappearing further into the forest. Bursting through the trees in a cloak of black, Takeshi Gouka, known within the Kumogakue KYOBU by the handle "Jestre," landed heavily, bruising the soft grass.

He stood up slowly as he stretched, working out the kinks acquired from the long journey thus far. Truth be told, he was pleasantly surprised by what gains he had made in the journey alone, little though he cared for the mission; both his prodigious speed and his evasive skills had improved markedly as he'd made his way for Konoha, scouting for the Kumogakure envoy. In the latter skill, however, he felt he could do more, and thus had made for the clearing hours in advance of his usual stopping point. Practicing one's evasions skills in the dark was typically reserved for live-fire exercises, and even more typically reserved for the dead.

He unclasped his cloak, letting the thick black garment slide to the forest floor, leaving little beyond the tight, black t-shirt that was so common to his wardrobe. Clasping his hands over his head, he slowly rolled his shoulders back, stretching the muscles, as well as stretching taut the scarred skin across his back. It was almost funny how little the life-altering injury affected him these days, compared to the times when even the slightest twinge would send him flashing back to that day. Funny, if his sense of humor hadn't been violently butchered, disemboweled and filled with his hopes and dreams, then left to sit under a rock for half a year.

He continued through his paces, limbering himself up for what was to come. As he loosened his muscles, he allowed himself to recall back to a time and place that seemed centuries dead, even if it was only a little under a decade ago. When he'd first left the hospital for rehabilitation and the KYOBU Mongoose had taken him under his wing. He could still hear his "sensei's" words from one such session. "Evasion isn't as simple as just dodging out of the way of an attack. Any fool with fast enough reflexes can just throw themselves out of the way of a kunai, especially those Sharingan toting bastards. What takes real skill is dodging tactically; sure, you've gotten out of the way of that kunai, but you pushed yourself right into that punch, or put your back against a wall and couldn't dodge the brace of shuriken. What takes real skill, and is the real essence of evasion, is what I like to call flow; moving into one dodge, but doing so in such a way you can keep your momentum, and still have maneuverability to dodge again if needed. Or if you want to get real simple, keep an eye out and don't back yourself into a corner."

It was true, Gouka had managed some level of "flow" in his evasive skills... But he could do better. He finished stretching, cricking his neck before slowly bending down, placing his hands firmly against the ground. Taking a deep breath, he heaved his legs up, moving quickly before his center of gravity could topple him, his legs raised high in the air as he did a hand-stand. Moving slowly but steadily, he lowered himself towards the ground, maintaining the hand-stand as his masked face came within inches of the ground, arms trembling. Giving an almighty heave, his arms jerked forward, his legs falling ever so slightly such that he launched himself through the air at an angle. He turned through the air, his feet barely gracing the ground before he threw himself forward even more, bringing his hands back to the earth as he began to flip across the ground.

He spun faster and faster, giving his wrists a sharp twist to divert his body, abruptly turning the back flips into cartwheels, even more abruptly twisting again, sending him in a twirling pirouette of a corkscrew through the air. The rapid, high-speed movement barely affected his balance, so used to it as he was, but he still pushed himself harder, no part of his feet or hands gracing the ground for more than a scant second as he twisted and spun, his vision of the surrounding area a scant blur. Launching himself into one last flip, he landed with a heavy thud as he allowed his right knee to buckle and bleed off momentum, landing in a crouch, his breathing a barely audible rasp behind his mask, the only sign of the strain the exercise had proven.

Still, fancy flips and dizzying acrobatics were all well and fine, but he would need more than that if he were to truly improve. He'd need to enlist a technique, known by some KYOBU as the "pressure cooker." Simply put, the best recipe for advancement was a hot fire and fierce pressure. That was to say, he needed to make the danger, and the incentive to improve rapidly, very much real. His rose up off his knee, his fingers meshing together into one of a host of jutsu that had come to haunt his waking nightmares, on those rare nights he could sleep at all. The words left his mouth in a bare whisper as his chakra flared. "Kage Bunshin no jutsu."

Flaring to life, the clone, the perfect replica of him, took place directly across from him in a puff of smoke. No words were needed, as the clone knew as surely as he did what the plan was. Stepping over to the small creek, the clone formed its own set of seals, calling aloud "Mizu bunshin no jutsu." The clone worked quickly and methodically, performing the jutsu several times, each time a new replica of the KYOBU arising from the water. All told, when the finally bundle of water took on Gouka's features, there were eight clones, seven of water and one of shadow.

Gouka took a steadying breath as the clones began to spread themselves about the clearing, forming a clear, wide circle with him, the original, in the middle. Unclipping his utility belts and pouches, he tossed them to the shadow clone, which took the extra supplies in hand readily. There was a rattle and clink around the clearing as each clone began to divest themselves of any weighing down gear, namely smoke bombs and the like, until all they were left with were their replicated wires, shuriken, and kunai. A tense silence filled the air as not a one moved further.

Hearing a rustle behind him, Gouka twisted to his left, dodging the first kunai, tossed by a clone on his six. As the blade sailed past him, his peripheral vision caught his three o'clock winding up, and he spun on his heel to avoid the following shuriken. More rattles and clinks began to echo through the clearing as more clones readied their weapons. He ducked under a thrown kunai, only to tuck his arm in and twist hard as a brace of shuriken flew by his left side. His hand abruptly jerked out one of his signature daggers, deflecting another kunai as he threw himself into a backwards roll, another brace of shuriken planting into the ground whence he'd previously stood.

With each evasion, the clones moved faster and faster, the KYOBU having steadily less time between each directional attack to attend his body in a new venue of avoidance. He twisted around a brace of kunai, only to bend over backwards, hands planting against the ground, narrowly avoiding the brace of shuriken he'd nearly dodged right in to. He wasted no time in twisting even further, turning the bend into a flip to dodge another flurry of metal. As he progressed, the clones began to circle him, first slowly, and then rapidly, moving faster and faster around the dodging ninja in the middle.

The throws were swiftly becoming harder to dodge, the clones running giving ever changing, new patterns of attack, causing the blades to twist and curve through the air. Gouka was beginning to breath heavily, each blade coming within a hair close of marking him as he weaved through the metal storm. He pivoted on his heel, only to abruptly lash out again with his dagger, slicing clean through the wire as he felt the faintest pressure of it on his chest. More and more blades flew, many of them trailing more wires, forcing the KYOBU into a complicated pattern of evasive attacks with his blade, each dodge forcing him to slice another streaming to avoid being tangled up.

His breath was coming in quick gasped when he put his put directly on top of a prone kunai. The metal blade slid across the grass with his foot under it, and before the young ninja knew quite what was happening, he had lost his balance, and was directly in the path of no less than four piercing kunai and a brace of shuriken. There would be no dodging this one. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he began to splay out, falling far too slowly to have any hope of evading the flying blades.

In that brief moment between life and death, there was a slithering sensation inside Gouka's mind. Unknown to him, the barest flicker of some tainted pulsed through his systems. Something shifted into place, something clicked.

His hand planted firmly against the ground and he twisted, a twitch of his feet causing the blades hidden within his boots to snap out. Balancing himself into a spin on that one hand, his feet lashed out, knocking aside the two most dangerous of the incoming blades. Still twisting, he managed to turn his body sideways through the air, the remaining blades only just glancing past him with little more than a grazing gash across his clothes. Completing the twist, he orientated himself onto his other hand, timing it perfectly such that as one hand rose, his legs passed under him, and the other hand planted against the ground.

There was no more motion in the clearing, the clones having ceased at the sudden near-demise of their creator. His sudden limberness in that final moment had surprised them. Truth be told, it had surprised him even. He'd not thought himself capable of quite that much flexibility. Breathing heavily and harshly, Gouka slowly gazed at the gathered clones. "Hah... hah... Enough." Nodding in unison, the clones, without a word, began slitting their throats. Behind his mask, Gouka's eyes closed tightly, a shudder coursing through him at each phantom memory of his own throat gaping open. Soon, there was naught but him, several puddles of water, and silence in the clearing.

Deep within his mind, a silent hiss echoed the faintest note of satisfaction. 'GOOD...'

Word Count: 1875

Name: One-Handed Seals
Rank: C
Type: Physical
Prerequisites: -
Training: A 600 word training is required to gain this special characteristic.
Restrictions: This cannot be used as a way to perform two jutsu at the same time.
Description: the ninja discovers a unique talent which allows them to mix chakra by performing seals with only one hand. With an ability such as this the ninja can fight while also performing jutsu, delivering surprise attacks to their enemies. Since those who can perform one-handed seals are naturally good at what their talents, they are even capable of performing hand seals behind themselves, leaving the enemy oblivious to the ninja's next attack.

A small fire crackled within its deeply recessed fire-pit, barely even a glimmer of light visible within mere feet of it, much less from the road, a good thirty meters off in the dark trees. A tall pile of loose dirt stood but mere inches from the edge of the pit, ready to be swept over it in an instant. Sitting with his back against a thick, sturdy oak, a shadow within the shadows contemplated his hands, soaking in the peripheral warmth of the fire in the brisk night-time air.

Takeshi Gouka, Jestre, The Reaper, Heartless, so many names and none with any meaningful significance to him. The KYOBU operative studied his hands, his gloves pulled off to fully reveal them. His fighting style put a great deal of dependence on being able to use both hands, whether it be to wield an ebony blade in each one or else to clasp them together for a hand seal. There had been times of late, however, when the usage of one or the other had nearly left him open for a fatal blow. This simply would not do.

He twisted his fingers carefully, entwining them into a seal, then another, feeling the way the chakra flowed and ebbed with each motion. Concentrating intently, he slowly pulled his hands apart, trying to hold onto the feel of that ebb and flow, of the way the chakra twisted and coiled in sync with the motions. The chakra flow flickered and wavered, sustaining briefly before "snapping" back, returning to the usual sub-system pulse of a chakra circulatory system. A faint twitch of his eyebrow betrayed the minor "sting" such a snap-back had, not unlike the feeling of a rubber-band snapping internally.

He shook his hand, entwining his hands as he attempted it once more. He moved with deliberate slowness through the motions, carefully molding and flexing the chakra, moving deeper into the sequence before pulling his hands apart, shifting them into the standard half-seals all academy graduates were taught, but not necessarily required to master, in order to pass the academy. The chakra flow flickered again, and he strained to keep is stable, forcing a single hand into the next half seal. The chakra flow "twitched," for lack of a better word, beginning to mold before snapping back once more. He grimaced again, this snap-back followed by a brief, bright blue flare of excess chakra venting from his hand.

He briefly cast his senses out. Not a soul in range of his sensor abilities, much less close enough to have seen or detected the chakra flare. He molded his hands into the seals again, working even more cautiously. While the ability to form seals and perform jutsu was an incredibly useful skill (even more so for a fighter like Gouka, who relied a great deal on his weaponry skills in combat), it wasn't precisely an easy skill to master. Altering the chakra flows precisely so with just one hand was an understandably harder proposition than performing them two-handed.

Crickets chirped in the darkness as he tried molding the chakra again and again, wincing each time the flow snapped back into his sytem, releasing another chakra flare, followed by another minute of studious watchfulness, making sure the activity had not caught the attention of an unwelcome eye. The fire burned lower and lower in the pit as the night dragged on. He was making steady progress, each seal sequence the chakra flow maintaining its shape and manipulation a little longer with each foray into single-handed seals.

He wiped his hands free of sweat on his jacket. He was coming closer; he'd nearly finished the seal sequence before losing control of the chakra. Moving slowly, he worked through the seal sequence one more time, keeping a careful watch on the ebb and flow of his manipulations. His hand shifted into the final seal. "Shōgeki - Tekina Shinjitsu." Flashing out, a small bolt of blue darted a brief distance into the darkness. He paused his efforts as he once again cast his senses out, ascertaining once more that he was fully alone.

He practiced the jutsu several more times, attempting but not quite releasing the chakras for several higher ranking jutsu as well. Finally confident he had mastered the skill, or at least brought down the bare bone basics, he leaned over, his arm scooping around the pile of dirt and dragging it over the fire. He was quickly plunged into total darkness. Leaning back against the tree, he settled into fitful, nightmarish sleep.

Word Count: 756

Name: Blurred Hand Movement
Rank: B
Type: Physical
Prerequisites: The Character must possess One-Handed Seals.
Training: A 1200 word training is required to gain this special characteristic.
Restrictions: -
Description: A skillful and convenient characteristic that is learned to those who have practiced in the art of hand speed movement in nearly all forms. There are many uses for this characteristic as it can enhance nearly all forms of specializations. It is essentially the practice of moving and manipulating your hands with expert efficiency to the point where they become a blur. With this special characteristic a ninja can perform any number of hand seals within seconds or instantly depending on the amount of seals necessary. This allows them to execute techniques faster than the opponent can perceive, providing no Perception-based Special Characteristics are present.

Word Count:

Name: No Seals
Rank: A
Type: Physical
Physical Requirements: Blurred Hand Movements
Training Requirements: A 1600 word training post is required to gain this special characteristic.
Description: The ultimate expression of efficiency creating speed in jutsu use, this special characteristic eliminates the need for the shinobi to speak the name of, or perform any hand seals for, any technique which would normally require such provide the technique is D-rank or lower and within their specialty or E-rank if it is not their specialty. Note that jutsu affected by this characteristic may not benefit from one-handed seals, blurred hand speed, or other effects which affect speed at which hand seals are formed or the number of seals needed, meaning that while a jutsu performed with No Seals has the element of Surprise, it is not necessarily faster (and indeed, slower) than physically performing the seals.

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Name: Keen Perception
Rank: A
Type: Mental Based
Physical Requirements: Must have Improved Perception
Training Requirements: A 1600 word training post is required to gain this special characteristic.
Description: The ninja trains their skill in perception and analyzing their environment to more distinct levels. Every physical motion is identified and picked up by the ninja whether its a movement in a leaf or a change in temperature. This skill is handy when faced with Genjutsu, as it gives the user the capacity to quickly identify they are in an illusion with very minimal clues. However although they can figure out the Genjutsu they must rely on other methods of breaking the spell. The ninja also becomes extremely perceptive and observant when it comes to people, being able to pick out mood changes or better understand character. In addition, this skill becomes useful in combat, where the Ninja grows to understand the patterns, habits and the 'rhythm' of the opponent over periods of time. At this higher rank, either the User is able to spot 'more', spot faster or both.

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Name: Chakra Aura
Rank: C
Type: Social Based
Prerequisites: -
Training Requirements: A 600 word training post is required to gain this special characteristic.
Description: Many people have vibrant, stunning personalities. Others can be colder than a Yuki's heart. Whatever the case, these people have personalities of such extremes, it even influences their chakra. While giving it no particularly special features, morbid individuals may find their chakra to carry a blackened tinge, carefree and happy ones may be surprised to find they emit a yellow glow, and those who are quick to anger might find a red surprise reminiscent of a Bijuu host.
Color: Ash-Grey

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