Diplomatic Support [Mission]

Age : 49 Posts : 1036

Quote :

Mission Title: Diplomatic Support
Mission Type: Custom
Mission Location: Sea Country
Shinobi Requirement: Jounin +
Mission Rank: A
Mission Objective: With or without their Kage's approval, several of Kiri's warships have established a base at an uninhabited atoll from which they have begun intruding into Sea Countries waters, claiming them to be part of Water Country. To that the daimyo has one response; not for long. He has hired Konoha ninja to evict these interlopers through whatever means will make them have many second thoughts about trying such endeavors in the future. To assist with making that outcome come to pass several of the Sea Lords smiths (including one former puppeteer) will provide several items to assist the ninja on this mission.
Participating ninja should be aware that while the client wants the destruction of the Kiri ships to be clearly hostile action, Konoha itself can not be linked to the assault due to an ongoing mission in Hot Springs Country.
Min Post Count: 8

Equipment (For mission only)

Spoiler:

Travel Post: Here

When most people think of a "tropical island" they get the image of one solid beach of white sand with a few palm trees along with just the right amount of heat and sun. The reality was somewhat different. Oh the beach-like area wasn't inconsiderable and there were palm trees, but the image left out many details. Like hordes of blood-sucking mosquitoes and how if you weren't under shade that heat and sun became absolutely unbearable. To say nothing of how the sand, which was really only shattered bits of coral, was just as irritating as regular sand when it got under clothes. The only upside to the jounin's choice of observation post was that the tiny area of denser growth made offered some respite from the sun (if not heat) and something besides fish and rations to eat. Even if he wouldn't be able to look at anything pineapple for weeks without disgust. Though he did have to admit to two spectacular nights as being so far from a real settlement brought out more stars than he had ever seen before without it being so cold he couldn't enjoy the view.

Between those two evenings was three days that Toshiro had done his utmost to fill in the blanks in the information the client had provided. A relatively small task considering that Sea Country had no native ninja. He hadn't asked how so much information about the intruding ships and their crews had been gathered, but the jounin had his suspicions. Suspicions that included the local lord having eyes and ears in the sort of places sailors and visitors of all sorts frequented. How else the folder of information include that several important members of the squadron moored in the lagoon had come down with such peculiar diseases? After being handed that file Toshiro had spent two days meeting with several of the daimyo's advisors along with learning to use the underwater breathing equipment and explosives so thoughtfully provided. Yet again the jounin was impressed - for a nation without a major military of its own Sea Country certainly knew how to build items that such a force would need. He had even been provided a small folding boat called a kayak that he could use to go to and from the atoll that was his target without wasting chakra. All together it had been unusually smooth beginning to the mission and with the exception of the oppressive daytime heat actually not half bad. Toshiro had known just enough about navigation that finding the right island in the atoll hadn't taken the whole night and come morning he had already set up a bare if secure shelter along with having dragged the boat up into the trees before concealing it with underbrush.

After that Toshiro had spent part of each day gathering information that while not exactly critical to the immediate mission would of great interest to Konoha. So far what he had learned was simply inconclusive. Nor had his two experimental nighttime forays into the disorderly camp provided any assistance. Then again those had consisted on simply swimming up each hull the first night and on the second he stuck to the waters edge. The next time would see a much more aggressive foray if his plans held. Which was why Toshiro was resting with his back against some palm fronds instead of among the pile of rocks and driftwood that constituted his observation post. Tonight he would start doing actual damage with the first victim being the most recently arrived vessel.

Age : 49 Posts : 1036

Nightfall over major bodies of water is something that has to be experienced to understand. Not only the almost absolute lack of ambient light but the almost total silence except for the occasional breeze or wave breaking. A silence that Toshiro did his utmost to not violate as he finished securing the last bits of gear for tonight's outing. An outing that, if all went well, would just be one of many. Checking over the last of his equipment, with particular attention to the pair of explosive charges, the jounin's mind drifted over to the plan he had formed over the course of several days. Over three days he had painstakingly watched the comings and goings of the ships and their crews. While those long hours spent under the sun had failed to yield a definitive answer to the question of if this was a sanctioned (even covertly) operation, it had yielded some more practical information. For instance, the fact that every two day one of the ships would leave the anchorage and sail out of sight and not return until it was time for the next one to sail. Of course with only three days on location he hadn't learned that by observing, but a pair of overly-talkative watchmen one night had let slip enough tidbits that Toshiro be able to fit the pieces together. Just that morning the largest of the three ships had left the atoll barely an hour after the smallest of the three had limped into port with obvious battle-damage in the form of a shattered mast and scorch marks along its sides. That ship was Toshiro's first target. Not only would an already-damaged vessel be easier to sink with the minimum force but it would be easier to board since the remains of the mast had dragged the starboard side deeper into the water.

Giving the last one last check to make sure everything was in place Toshiro took the last few steps to enter the water of the lagoon, stopping just long enough to pull the facemask of his rebreather into place. Then the jounin entered the deeper water, swimming towards his intended target under the waves. Tonight the hunters would become the hunted.

It would take nearly an hour of swimming along the bottom of the lagoon for Toshiro to get into spitting distance of his target, an hour in which the moon would rise full and bright. In doing so it bathed the injured vessel in pale light and shadows. For the unlucky sailor selected to be part of the night watch it was a promise of another boring time After all, no one in their right mind would sail into a lagoon like this with the moonlight casting anything on the water into stark detail. Of course the poor sailors didn't consider the possibility of someone approaching from under the water. Which was why the watchman never noticed when one of those shadows rose up from the water to grasp the deck and pull itself onboard. By the time the sailor turned around Toshiro was already in the shadow of the broken mast. Once the unnamed sailor went back to looking over the prow the jounin began moving with as much stealth as he could towards what looked to be an open hatch and slipped inside with (hopefully) none the wiser. At first the snow-haired jounin had simply intended to silence the guard before placing the charge and escaping. The sight of a way into the ship itself had given him a different idea - namely checking the ship's cargo for something that would prove or disprove that Hidden Mist was behind the intrusion. So now he was padding on bare feet down a sharply titled set of very steep steps below decks. Getting through the first deck was a simple matter, courtesy the tendency for sailors to get roaring drunk at the first chance, and beyond that lone watchman not even a rat stirred to take note of his presence even as he entered the ship's hold.

The first thing Toshiro took note of was how dark it was. Without lamps or openings to let outside light in it was literally so dark the jounin couldn't see his own hand in front of his face. Inside his head Toshiro was silently cursing that the one thing he hadn't brought along was a source of illumination. With no option the Leaf-nin was forced to creep along using his hands to minimize the number of times he almost ran into something. After numerous close calls and several painful collisions Toshiro judged the distance covered sufficient that the wall to his right should be the hull. One last check as best he could to make sure he was still alone, the snow-haired Hinamori dropped to one knee and after several seconds brought the first explosive charge to eye level. With exaggerated care Toshiro went through the steps its inventor had painstakingly drilled into his head. 'Remove the cover by twisting counter-clockwise, press the front against the hull and hold for ten seconds. Now twist each of the three anchoring screws in then set the timer.' The last involved the jounin turning a part of the charge then removing a simple pin, giving him a grand total of 30 minutes before things came to an explosive ending.

Age : 49 Posts : 1036

For most people the idea of being in the same room as an explosive that was steadily counting down to boom-time would have only two outcomes. A head-long flight to the nearest opening or a frantic attempt to disarm the device. For Toshiro it was simple another deadline to meet and instead of a frantic effort to escape he went about his next task. Aided by an occasional lit match and a lot of hands-on exploration the jounin began to open what containers he would, trying to find something that would confirm or deny official sanction for these vessels. After fifteen minutes of searching however the jounin was still left with exactly no indication in either direction. Crates of foodstuffs with sources ranging from packaged Kiri-standard rations to salted beef and pork didn’t exactly have tags on them saying “I’m not stolen property”. Nor did any of the other odds-and-ends help - all either clearly recently taken or so common that they could have come a thousand places. Toshiro had just closed the lid on a chest holding sail cloth when he heard the clear tread of someone coming down the hall. In the space of a heartbeat the lit match was snuffed out and one jounin had retreated back into the shadows behind a crate he hadn’t opened to wait. Just in time as the abrupt darkness of the hold was pierced by a steady light such as a lantern would make. At the same time the silence was broken by the sounds of someone cursing furiously under his breath. “Pox-ridden son of a land-lubber. Make sure the hold is secure he says. If he wasn’t the admirals son...” As the figured came into view Toshiro had no problem recognizing the griper as the sailor who had been standing watch above decks. Silently cursing his not dealing with the watch outside when he had a whole lagoon to dump the body into, the concealed Konoha shinobi could only wait as the clock ticked down.

Blissfully unaware that death had come aboard his ship, the sailor continued to curse the captain of the ship while giving the bare minimum of attention to the task. With their night vision ruined by the lantern casually held in one hand, a lantern whose light cast even darker shadows that blanketed both ninja and bomb. Utterly convinced that no threat lurked within the hold the mariner set down the lantern and unknowingly seated himself right next to the bomb and pulled out a battered pipe. No doubt intending to kill time until he could leave and say he had thoroughly checked the hold, a decision that put the sailor’s life in direct peril as the clock continued to tick down. Then the fellow made the worst single mistake of his life by running his mouth just before lighting his pipe. “Damn boot-licker. Just because he doesn’t want to leave his little plaything he gets someone else. Greedy bastard won’t even share the slut. Not like Grandpa’s days when a cabin slave...” What remained of his night vision ruined by the match used to light his pipe the sailor never saw Toshiro move from the shadows and even if he had it wouldn’t have helped. In the span of a heartbeat the Hidden Leaf shinobi was directly in front of the sailor, right hand in an open-palmed haymaker that had all the force of his weight behind it that slammed shut the sailor's jaw with sufficient force to cause the stem of the pipe to be bitten off. It also had enough forced to bring the sailor’s head into the hull with the resounding crack of bone stressed beyond its tolerance. Even if the sound hadn’t announced the seafarer’s demise the bloody smear along the wall and unfocused expression was enough to confirm that this one had entered his last port of call. As for the mans executioner, Toshiro’s hand still tight around the corpse’s jaw and his breathing coarse and fast. Not from exertion but trying to calm the boiling fury that the sailors words had triggered. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this assignment had just gotten personal. The words “plaything” and “cabin slave” had been all Toshiro needed to figure out that something heinous was happening in the captain’s cabin somewhere in this ship.

It would take nearly a minute for the jounin to stamp out the urge to commit indiscriminate mayhem. Once he was clear-headed, Toshiro paused only long enough to check on the bomb (15 minutes left) before exiting back up the stairs and through the hatch. Then the white-haired grim reaper padded on feet quickly made silent as small bubbles of water formed in response to his handseals, silent as a ghost. And just as deadly as the first sailor could have attested to - had the kunai that severed all four major blood vessels in the neck as well as the trachea prevent an outcry while the other hand kept the sailor for doing more than thrashing about briefly. The process would be repeated half a dozen times as Toshiro moved among the sleeping crewmembers, slaughtering them with the same cold efficiency he used when butchering a fresh-caught wild pig. Once the potential reinforcements were eliminated the jounin moved openly the rest of the way, making no move to conceal his presence from those on board. Not that anyone challenged him from the handful of closed doors until he reached the door at the rear of the vessel. Based on hazy recollections and half-remembered lessons Toshiro guessed that this would be where the captain of the ship and any officers still onboard slept. He already knew it was where he would find the “plaything” - putting his hear to the old-fashioned lock provided enough evidence in the forms of half-choked sobs and the distinctive sound of flesh striking flesh.

Under ordinary circumstances Toshiro would have been all for taking the time to pick the lock to make a silent entry. Ordinary didn’t begin to describe this situation and his means of entering was suitably not-ordinary. Namely an explosive tag slapped by each hinge and one over where a bolt should be. A few steps back and the jounin formed the “Seal of Confrontation”, which was followed by the quite of the evening being rent by the lightning-sharp crack of explosive tags detonating. For the poor sap who had been standing behind the door it was a heart-stopping experience; not only was the door propelled in by the blast but a full-forced flying kick that had all of Toshiro’s speed and weight behind it. Unaware (or simply ignoring) the pancake that had once been a fellow human the jounin rose to his feet with a kunai in each hand and the sight before him putting mayhem in his eyes.

Toshiro: 185 CP - 6 CP = 179 CP

Jutsu Used:

Age : 49 Posts : 1036

Fitting:

If the three sailors still standing had any idea of the magnitude of the situation they found themselves in on Toshiro's bursting through the door they showed no signs of it. Instead of jumping through the wide window behind them two of the sailors grabbed cutlasses from the floor and the third drew a saber. Given the difference in numbers, the obvious confidence and ability with their weapon each sailor had, combined with having only a pair of kunai in his hands, most ninja probably would have considered it a bad situation. Most ninja weren't one very angry jounin armed with a towering rage. The last had been reignited with one glance at the badly beaten form slumped onto the floor and a moan from the over-sized bunk. In Toshiro's mind he wasn't looking at three armed and dangerous seafarers. He saw three sick... things whose one-way tickets to a special part of Hell had just been punched.

Case in point being the sailor who had moved first, closing the distance while aiming his swing to disembowel the person foolish enough to enter the room dressed in swim trunks and some sort of funny back-like device while armed with a pair of fancy paring knives. No doubt months of terrorizing the crew of fishing vessels and the occasional merchant ship had dulled the fellow's edge, otherwise he would have waited for his buddies. Instead of being stiff with fear like the sailor's prior victims, at the last second Toshiro vanished in a display of quickness while leaving the fellows blade to pass harmlessly into an after-image. Off-balance when his blow met no resistance the mariner stumbled on the uneven deck and then slammed into the wall as Toshiro reappeared behind him to land a bruising knee to the kidney. One attacker down Toshiro seemed unaware of the two blades that cleaved into his head and erupted from his belly. At least until both blades continued to pass through the target, proving that what had looked like a ninja was just another after-image. As one the pair of sailors turned to see the Hidden Leaf jounin standing between their "entertainment" and themselves while practically radiating malice and the intent to do bodily harm. "You actually thought that could hit me? Pfft... amateurs." Along with a healthy dose of contempt, scoring a clear mental hit as the sailor's faces showed nearly identical expressions of fury. Followed by their sudden rush at him, the captain thrusting his saber at chest height while the other sailor aimed his cutlass to cleave the ninja's head like a melon. It would be just their bad luck that their skills of personal combat were limited to weapons. Against one of Konoha's best swordsmen they might as well have been sending cards engraved with their intentions. Keeping that air of utter contempt in place Toshiro blocked the captain's thrust with one kunai while turning sideways using a high side kick to block the cutlass-wielding sailors hand while breaking the fellows nose. Then he whipped the extended leg back, bringing his heel into contact with the captain's temple, sending both sailors reeling away as the jounin resumed his almost casual stance right where he had stood. It was a move calculated to show just how far above the pair of he stood in raw power, and it worked.

Born of out realizing how badly they were over-matched or simple cowardice, the ships captain and his second in command (not that Toshiro knew he was such) made a break for the door. The captain just reached that portal to safety behind his much-fitter lieutenant, a situation that put him in place to catch the two kunai Toshiro had tossed. One was caught in the right thigh where it tore through the major nerve for that limb while the other buried itself to the hilt in the left kidney. The jounin ignored the dead man who hit the deck alternately screaming and whimpering in pain in favor of moving his now-empty hands into a flurry of seals. To the sailor running to wake up cannon fodder to stall the assassin the lack of further pain said he might get away. A thought that lasted until a drill of compressed water ripped through the hull to the sailor's right and into his side. Between its native ability to maim and the splinters of wood caught up in the current the result was akin to using a very dull buzz saw to cut into someone. Messy. Very messy and if the scream ripped from the sailors throat was any indication highly painful. Compared to those two, the third sailor got off easy - his pain-filled groans were silenced with a few handseals and a negligent-looking wave of the hand that sent a blade of wind-nature chakra to cleave into his skull. Opposition in the process of (loudly and painfully) dying Toshiro turned his attention back to the room's two occupants who hadn't been a part of the massacre.

It would take just a quick glance to make the jounin regret his lack of interest in kinjutsu that involved resurrecting the dead. When another blade of wind had sliced through the chain attached to the iron collar around the beaten girls neck and the bindings around the other girls wrists were severed neither moved a fraction of an inch to escape Toshiro had expect the pair to make a mad rush for safety. Instead the pair hadn't moved a muscle, not even to flinch. Broken. It was the only term that the shinobi knew to describe what had happened to the pair and it made him wish he had had the time to really put the screws to the ship's crew. Time was something none of them had however, so the jounin shelved thoughts about retribution in favor of necessity. Moving down to get on his knees the jounin made himself as unimposing as possible, mentally thanking the coworker who had dragged him to a lecture on how best handle victims of extreme abuse. "It's okay, you're safe now." Five words, spoken barely above a whisper, yet it was as if someone had blasted a dam open. One moment the pair were barely willing to glance at him, the next Toshiro found himself supporting two girls who were letting months of pent-up emotions out. It was then that the ship was rocked and the deep reverberation of explosives detonating, signally that time had just run out. A circumstance he tersely informed the pair with "time to go." Gathering up his latest charges Toshiro stepped over the still-withering form of the ships captain (making sure to grind his heel into the damaged kidney) and carried the pair out the hole his Suigadan had torn into the hull and onto the water. Paying almost no attention to the twins wide-eyed stare beyond a cryptic "ninja trick", Toshiro's next step saw him shooting over the water of the lagoon at a high speed while shouting "just hang on tight. For you two this nightmare is over."

It was a statement of pure fact. For the two girls their nightmare of captivity was over. For the sailors using the atoll as a base however the nightmare was just beginning.

Toshiro: 179 CP - 50 CP = 129 CP

Jutsu:

Age : 49 Posts : 1036

Nightmare indeed. For the sailor running down steep path as if the hounds of the underworld were treading on his heels the whole situation was just too unreal to be anything but a nightmare brought to life. Faced with eking out a (short) hand-to-mouth living on fishing boats and mugging dock workers, the recruiters offer of easy loot had been all it took to get him to sign the book that committed him to a year of being a sailor in a semi-legal pirate fleet. A "fleet" whose benefactor had, according to scuttlebutt, wanted to improve his stand in Kirigakure's politics and figured the easiest way to do so was expanding Kiri's domain by taking a bite out of Sea Country. To do that the land-lubber had bought and outfitted three ships, found ambitious younger sons to be officers, and filled the crew with the promise of easy plunder, and even hired some ninja to give them real muscle. It had even looked like all those promises of easy money would be delivered on; right up until the Pike had been racked with explosions and sunk with everyone still aboard. Then the Revenge exploded as well, leaving those not killed on board stranded until Good Fortune (their last ship) returned tonight. After that things shouldn't have been able to get worse - which is of course when they had taken a turn for the positively ghoulish. A forager found literally torn to pieces, the only trained doctor found face-down in one of the cisterns without a mark, fires mysteriously breaking out among the piles of supplies, one the Kiri genin teams never leaving a bank of sea fog, and those were just a few of the highlights. Worst of all was when a sentry reported seeing the shade of the White Tempest himself! After that rumors had run rampant that the island was the tomb for the "godfather of piracy" who was hell-bent on revenge for their disturbing his eternal rest.

After that one could hardly blame the crew for huddling together like frightened children despite the officer's constant talk of coincidence and rational explanations. Hitsugya Odate, better known as the "White Tempest" was a legend among sea farers not only for his ruthless skill at piracy but the tales of dealings with creatures beyond the keen of man. Creatures that included the Kraken and true demons that traded occult power for human sacrifices. Nor had it helped calm their nerves when a junior officer was seen sporting a new sword after a trip into the ridgeline that formed the spine of this particular island. A sword that bore more than a passing similarity to Odate's fabled "Whisper". The tales of that unholy blade and its soul-devouring nature, said to bind its victim's shades to the wielder for eternity, were spoken of in hush tones as redolent of dread as Odate was. Which was why for the past ten minutes the sailor had been running flat-out, fear and adrenaline overruling any desire to stop. This particular sailor had been one of the braver (and greedier) ones, seeing a chance to gain profit by finding the tomb where that officer had found the blade. Legend said Odate had been buried with a fortune in plunder and the lure of gold had tempted many to foolhardy quests. Even the rumors that the vengeful spirit of Odate himself and those who had unlucky enough to find his tomb and fallen to Whisper guard the pirate lord's final resting place hadn't deterred him.

The shrouded form he had found lying on a bed-like slab inside the cave the trail had lead him too sitting up however had. Actually it had scared him witless and had sent the sailor into headlong flight out of the cave and in a direct line for the promised safety of his fellows. It was just his luck he hit something in the underbrush that sent him sprawling face-down in the dirt. Though that was less painful than the feeling he got when half a dozen bamboo stakes tore through his legs on impact. Between the impact and being crippled it was no surprise that the fellow couldn't muster the breath to scream when he felt something grab him by the back of his shirt and haul him upwards. None too gently either as the bamboo stakes ripped even bigger holes before he was slammed against a tree hard enough to lose consciousness. It wouldn't be until several hours later that a foraging party would find a substantial area of blood-soaked ground.

Toshiro: 129 CP

Age : 49 Posts : 1036

Hours later, having wedged the evidence of his afternoon into some rocks where the local scavengers would dispose of it, a white-haired figure - who was very much among the living - strolled down a path towards his latest camp with a string of fish from a trap in hand. Mentally he was patting himself on the back for having finally figured out what was going on. And he owed it all to his ancestor’s reputation. Hefting tonight's dinner the jounin chuckled at the thought of his many-time maternal great grandfather still being able to scare the more superstitious sailors witless despite being dead and buried for centuries. So much so that it had taken very little in the way of "persuasion "to loosen the sailors tongue. Armed with the knowledge that this was a play to increase his power by some Kiri council members, instead of an actually sanctioned mission, Toshiro was already plotting his end-game for this assignment. Wrapped up his mental games of "what if" it was only reflexes that allowed the jounin to pull up short as two blurs sporting hair as white as his own shot past with a squeal that anyone who had been to a playground during recess would recognize. He couldn't help the chuckle as two slightly different forms of "sorry" were carried back by the tropical breeze. Youth. It never failed to amaze Toshiro. Just days ago the two girls had been the very picture of broken souls after months of captivity and abuse. And now Lisanna and her older sister Marijane were playing games like any other 11 and 14 year old cooped up inside for days. Of course that didn't fool the jounin into thinking they weren't hurting. The actual physical damage had been comparatively minor - mostly old bruises, cuts, and the tell-tale marks of canning and flogging and a few less... savory injuries. It was the unseen mental damage they carried that was pushing Toshiro to take a massive gamble with an all-out assault tonight.

For now though Toshiro was focused on feeding two bottomless pits using what was at hand. With the ease born of much repetition he soon had all eight fish scaled, gutted, and sizzling on a flat rock over a smokeless fire. Another squeal, this one much closer and followed by the sounds of laughter, announced that the pair’s game of tag had ended with someone winning. Grinning at the antics of the pair he had grown attached to in just a few days; Toshiro added various vegetables (some foraged and others stolen from the would-be privateers) along with getting the pot of tea ready for the evening tea. Just in time too as no sooner was everything ready than two girls sporting hair as white as his own stepped into the clearing that housed their campsite. Both were a mess, their clothes (which had been Toshiro's extra set before being cut down) stained, sporting patches of dirt from head to toe, grinning like loons, and talking at a pace that would have given a contortionist whiplash. “Dinner is ready!" Ah the magic of those few words. No sooner were they spoken then the pair was seated on the fallen log with plates (another item “liberated” from the pirates) in hand. In short order dinner was served and demolished after which two-thirds of the camps residents went about their pre-bedtime preparations. The remaining third of the population however had other plans. Instead of picking up the much-abused book that he had been reading to the other two every night, when the jounin reached behind the boulder he was sitting on what came out was scabbards for his swords and the belts that held them in place. An action that did not go unnoticed by the younger of the two girls. "Toshiro-nii, aren't you going to tell us a story?" Pausing in the act of taking a whetstone to a dull spot to meet the questioning gaze of someone who clearly suspected what was going to happen. "Sorry kiddo, but not tonight. I'm going to finish what I started." At the crest fallen expression that response caused the jounin felt a bit of his own good mood replaced by the urge to find every sailor who had laid a hand on the girls and remove said appendage. With as much pain as possible. He knew it wasn't the story per say that the pair wanted but the assurance that what had happened over the last several days wasn't just a desperate dream. Getting to his feet and slinging the sword belt over his shoulder Toshiro seemed to not notice when in doing so he nicked a finger on one of the brass fittings. "That doesn't mean I'm leaving you alone." Ignoring the outright stares sent his way Toshiro ran through a mere three handseals and placed the blood-smeared hand on the ground with a low-spoken "kuchiyose no jutsu." When the evening breeze carried away the cloud of smoke the white-haired male had to grind to teeth to keep from laughing at the twin gob-smacked expressions focused on the white and black feathered oversized pheasant standing beside him. Reigning in his urge to laugh, Toshiro instead introduced the sisters to their first summon. "Girls, meet my second summon - Kanako. She'll make sure you're okay while I'm away." A glance showing that the two girls were still staring in stunned disbelief, Toshiro grabbed the rest of what he would need from his pack and slipped into the shadows. In doing so he missed a sight that in the future would be rare. "So, either of you play Go?" There are times being the younger sibling was an advantage. Such as the young mind’s ability to accept that which an older mind found unacceptable. Such as the reality of being confronted with a large bird that could talk asking if you had knowledge of a board game. Lisanna shook her head in the negative; her sister toppled backwards in a dead faint.

Toshiro: 129 CP - 10 CP = 119 CP

Jutsu:

Age : 49 Posts : 1036

While Kanako was busing herself teaching Lisanna (and Marijane when she awoke) the joys of her favorite pastime, her summoner stood on the spit of sand closest the island that harbored the pirate's camp. With the near-total darkness of the new moon picking out the ruddy glow of the camp was the work of only moments. For uncounted minutes the Hidden Leaf jounin just stood in place, eyes fixed on the glow from the camp then he tore his gaze away to settle on the items in his left hand. Clutched in Toshiro’s grip was his hitai-ate, the black cloth trailing in the breeze as its owner debated for the first time in years violating what was for all intents a direct order. He had been ordered to do his utmost to insure that Hidden Mist never found out that Konoha had played a role in these ships destruction. Implied in that was not wearing his forehead protector as it was among the surest ways to identify a ninja’s village. Yet here he stood just one action from breaking that implicit command by donning the mark of his village. Nor was that urge out of some shred of respect for those he was planning to attack. No, Toshiro wanted whatever trash lived through this night to be terrified, to piss their pants every time they saw a Konoha forehead protector, to spend days without sleep as memories of what was to come ran rampant through their minds. Put bluntly he was torn between duty that demanded he adhere to his orders and the expectations of his superiors, and honor that insisted on eye for an eye for what had he had taken under his wing. Seconds, minutes or maybe hours spend in silent debate abruptly ended as Toshiro donned the forehead protector, long practice making it just a matter of moments to tie the knot that held it in place. A jounin of Konohagakure no Sato he was but before that he was something else. He was Hinamori and for the clan family always came first and in just a few days Lisanna and Marijane had become just that to him. And in his clan trespasses against family demanded swift and savage retribution. Retribution that took of the form of one more white-haired figure skating over the waves at speed towards the anchorage.

Later, the exact time neither important nor available (courtesy some low-hanging clouds and a new moon), that same figure was standing on a sandbar just in sight of the sole ship anchored in the lagoon. Even at a distance there was enough visible to detail say that this ship was clearly different from the others. From the long and narrow design to the over-sized kunai launchers protruding from hatches in the hull the ship was clearly built for more militant activities than the converted merchantmen he had sunk earlier. An impression reinforced by the silhouettes of the crew in the rigging and deck bustling about and in the camp. For Toshiro there was no doubt in the reason for that activity. Right then he would have taken any bet that the loss of two ships had convinced the commander of this adventure to go home and lick his wounds for a second try. A try one jounin was determined would end before it began. The means to that end being all around, needing only the handseals that flowed as Toshiro dashed forward along the water's surface. Maybe some of the sailors caught sight of the solitary figure making a suicide-run on their ship, but by then it was too late. Without warning a massive column of water in the shape of a serpentine dragon rose until it towered over the ships railing. At that moment whatever remained of discipline among the crew broke at the sight, featured in so many lurid seafarers' tales, of a sea serpent preparing to strike. If the officers had been given time they could have restored order but time was what they didn't have. Holding at the apex of its ascent for a moment the gargantuan construct dove to slam its entire mass straight into the ships deck, which splintered like a mollusk's shell under the impact. The second deck would meet the same fate as would the bottom of the hull, allowing torrents of water to rush in and begin to drag ship and those crewmen unlucky enough to be inside to a watery grave. Even those who been lucky to escape enough weren't spared. Darting into the largest group of survivors Toshiro's fingers were a blur before another nightmare sprung into being. Indifferent to the screams and pleas for mercy the vortex pulled wreckages and survivors to the bottom of the lagoon, smashing some and drowning others.

A glance over the carnage was enough to convince Toshiro that it was time to move on to his second target - the camp itself. Long practice had the jounin skating across the water with constant changes of direction and speed to confuse any incoming fire. And this time there was fire as arrows pierced the water around him, always just a hair too slow to have been a real threat. Across the water he could see a handful of better-dressed mariners trying to get across the point of "fire as a group" to men who fear had rendered blind to anything but the need to kill the oncoming threat. Then one of the officers apparently got through to his group because no sooner had the jounin come within fifty paces of the shore than two dozen figures shoved their way through. Half kneeling and the other half standing, each member of the shinobi world's first firing line shouldered their kunai launchers and pulled the triggers until the weapons were empty as one to an officer's shout of "for kami's sake fire men fire!" Between the smoke and sheer volume of steel it was impossible to see the effects of the shots but the sailors no doubt believed that nothing could have survived that barrage of steel. So it would come as no surprise that every sailor in sight had their jaw come unhinged when the smoke cleared. Where before had been a ninja was the grand daddy of all sea urchins, looking completely unharmed and unconcerned that it should by all rights be dead. Then "sea urchin" uncurled to show an unharmed Toshiro sporting a positively malicious grin on his face and six kunai with explosive pouches, fuses lit, tied to the ends. Into the shocked firing line those kunai were sent with predictable results. Even more carnage as shrapnel tore maimed and killed, with those fortunate enough to escape serious injury falling moments later to Toshiro's blades as he used the chaos to dash in and start cutting. Sliding under two sailor's whose attempt to take his head off ended up meeting only each other, the white-haired avatar of punishment cut both attackers bellies open with one cut before a spinning sweep kick sent both crashing to the ground and soon enough Toshiro was leaving a trail of the dead and the dying as he moved up the beach. It was a gruesome display of the axiom quality over quantity, written in sand red with blood, and had any doubters about why nations relied on shinobi for military strength seen it they would doubt no more.

Soon enough only a handful of the seadogs were still standing their ground, most of their comrades either fallen in the Konoha jounin's initial assault or withering around the kunai in the back that had cut down most of those who had tried to run. Out of that number maybe only a half dozen had been able to hightail it into the forests, mostly those on the very fringes of the fight that had split as soon as things had gone against them. Stepping back from the swipe of a cutlass from a particularly burly seafarer sporting more tattoos than skin along with a boson's whistle, the shinobi deflected a stab to the face with his own blade before lashing out behind him with a foot to stop a sailor wielding a poniard by knocking the wind out of him. Uncoiling from his crouch Toshiro swung the same leg up and into the jaw of the cutlass-wielder, knocking him up into the air and jumping to follow him in the Shadow of the Dancing Leaf, leaving the saber-wielder's thrust to sink harmlessly into the sand. At the apex of his targets flight the white-haired male delivered an axe kick that sent the mariner crashing onto the sand only to have what few ribs weren't broken shattered from taking the full brunt of Toshiro's landing. Rolling off the corpse to avoid a clumsy thrust from the saber-wielding officer the jounin swiped his off-hand sword across careless man's throat, the razor-sharp blade parting the flesh like paper and causing a blood to gush out as even as the fellow dropped to the ground dead. Ducking once more to avoid getting a knife in the back (people being so predictable) Toshiro flipped the katana in his right hand around so that the edge was facing him and brought it down onto the rather skinny sailor's knuckles much like a teacher might use a ruler to do the same. Suddenly disarmed as reflex caused his hand to open and drop his knife into the sand, the reluctant mariner was further brought up short by the point of that same sword coming to rest against his throat. "If you want to live I suggest you listen carefully and answer every question quickly. Because if I think you're holding something back I'll gut you and dump you in a pool of leeches." What followed that promise of an excruciating death was maybe two minutes of questioning that confirmed this being the only camp and that only three ships were involved. The erstwhile pirate even volunteered the location of the only other boat (a small if seaworthy fishing craft) on the island when the jounin looked set to kill him. In the end Toshiro allowed the fellow to gather a handful of necessities and take the sole dingy on the beach to leave with the knowledge that if word of him ever taking up criminal a life the Leaf-nin would hunt him down and make good on his promise with the leeches.

Watching the fellow row out of the lagoon with a speed born of fear, Toshiro's only reaction to the sound of slow clapping some distance behind was to turn around slowly. Maybe fifteen paces away stood two figures, one in the quintessential outfit of a pirate captain complete with three-corner hat that fit the fellow's rough-hewn looks and slightly above-average stature. It was the woman standing at the pirate captain's side that held Toshiro’s attention. And not because of her looks, though she no doubt got her share of second looks with a slender figure that managed to be feminine instead of boyish. No it was the Kirigakure forehead protector glinting under brown bangs and the chuunin vest that had Torshiro ready to dodge like a madman. He wasn't completely unaware of her partner/ employer however, not that the fellow tried to hide his intent as he addressed the joinin. "Well, I didn't think you Leaf-nin had it in you to do something like this but I guess I was wrong. I don't suppose you would consider an offer to join my crew?" To have responded with a cutting remark was so tempting. Maybe, had he been fresh instead of worn from days of short sleep and constant vigilance, he would have even pretended to accept just to see the cretin's expression when he stuck a kunai in his gut. Instead he drew the swords he had sheathed, letting the rasp of metal on metal be response. For a moment the pirate leader seemed truly disappointed then he shrugged and gestured in Toshiro's direction. "Such as waste. Kill him."

Toshiro: 129 CP - 39 = 90 CP

Jutsu:

Age : 49 Posts : 1036

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As soon as the order left the pirate leader’s both ninja were in motion. The kunochi’s fingers flew through seals as she met Toshiro’s eyes before appearing to dissolve in a burst of flower petals. Almost immediately the Konoha jounin knew this fight could be a pain in the rear except for the kunochi's arrogance or inexperience. After years of sparing with his own genjutsu-using sister he could recognize the Flower Petal Escape faster than some genjutsu-users. That same practice against a top-notch genjutsu expert had Toshiro bending forward at the waist while lashing back with a foot, the gasp and feel of a solid impact proof that her plan had been the cliched “disappear then stab them in the back“. Mentally he put this particular shinobi into the inexperienced-and-by-the-book category; sure the technique and execution were textbook perfect - a pity that textbooks tend to be something anyone can learn. “Cute, but stupid. Let me guess, you slept with some old fart on the council to get that vest?” Ignoring the feeling of a glare that by all rights should have reduced him to cinders directed his way, the Konoha shinobi’s voice carried a malicious edge as he formed the needed handseals. “Here’s my disappearing act. Kirigakure no jutsu.” As if having been waiting for that moment a mist rose from the lagoon, in seconds concealing the two ninja and one pirate from each others vision. Toshiro could only imagine what the expression on his adversary's face would be as he used one of, if not the, Hidden Mist’s signature jutsus. Just to rub her nose in that fact, out of the mist issued words that sent gibbering gremlins running up the kunochi’s spine. “Eight points. Brain, spine, jugular, sub-clavian vein, lung, heart, liver, kidney. Which one should I choose.” At that point Toshiro settled in to wait, confident that, having neutralized the greatest threat’s likely weapon of choice by effectively blinding all involved, he held the advantage.

How much time passed with the three combatants effectively trapped in the mist by the danger of being the first one to move and thus give away their position would be unknown. For Toshiro it was both too much time as he began to wonder if the pair had taken the chance to escape and too little as he stealthily broke the genjutsu he was in and silenced his own footfalls. He had been considering ending the Hidden Mist jutsu when the slight but unmistakable squelching of something heavy pressing on wet sand reached his ears from somewhere to his front. Almost instantly Toshiro was on his guard, sure that it was the pirate leader making that noise in an attempt to find him. Resisting the temptation to send a kunai or twelve at the noise in case it was a decoy, the white-haired ninja instead formed the handseals for one of the most basic techniques in a ninja's arsenal. As soon as the illusionary doubles moved into the mist, Toshiro tensed in anticipation. One breath, two, then on the fourth came the whistle of steel moving through air at high speed heralded a kunai passing within inches of Toshiro's head. It was just a matter of seconds to the jounin to trace the path the kunai cut throw the mist backwards. Then his hands were in motion, the seals coming as natural as breathing even as a howling wind tore through the mist. Caught flat-footed, neither the Kiri kunochi or the pirate captain were remotely prepared - the later being violently thrown along the sand while the former had her flight ended against a pile of crates. Wits rattled by her abrupt launch and its equally abrupt ending the kunochi had just a moment to recover before 7 stabbing pains exploded throughout her body. Then she felt nothing as the eighth strike that penetrated her skull. In less than a second later seven of the Toshiro's that had surrounded the last real opposition faded away, leaving the real one

In the other direction from the location of the kunochi's demise, the pirate captain had just staggered to his feet and was making a concerted effort to leave before the demon on human skin noticed that someone was still alive. A fiction that Toshiro allowed to exist until the fellow had gone maybe six cautious steps towards survival before the jounin's foot caused a fragment of crate to snap. Freezing in dread the pirate captain turned just enough to glance behind him, the tension draining out of body at the sight of beach occupied only by the dead. Which probably explained why the fellow seemed to freeze when on resuming his flight the first thing he saw was two jade-hued eyes barely a handbreadth from his own. Seeing the fellow frozen in panic like a trapped deer, Toshiro gave in the urge that had been building up. "Boo." Call it juvenile but the results made it worthwhile. Fear sent the pirate leader leaping backwards to lose his footing and impact hard against the sand. From that point on the results were utterly predictable. A stream of begging, pleading, and attempts to buy safety that fell on deaf ears, the unsheathing of a kunai that preceded one final scream of terror and one admiral of a now-defunct pirate fleet learning that there are far worse ways to die than the hangman's noose.

It wouldn't be until the phenomena known false dawn came that Toshiro returned to his camp. The first thing the jounin noted was that both girls were sound asleep with Kanako their improvised pillow, sight that had him wishing for a camera and snickering. Kanako's fierce shushing gesture only sent him into muffled laughter at the sight of the "princess" of his summons allowing herself to be used as a combination pillow & stuffed toy by two preteens. It wasn't until a pebble smacked into his forehead protector that he stopped laughing, settling for smirking at this rare maternal sight before leaning back against a fallen tree and closing his eyes. Tomorrow the three humans and one bird would pack and use the boat Toshiro had commandeered to return to Sea Country then back to Konoha. As he dozed off the jounin's mind kept running over the big question still left. While the client would no doubt be happy that the interlopers had been (violently) ejected and "encouraged" to warn other sailors from signing up for any repeat attempts, he was sure to be in hot water with his own superiors. Even if he could make a case that Kiri could hardly object to a rogue (real or otherwise) operation being shut down without painting itself as the clear aggressor, he had still taken a major risk. One final glance at the slumbering pair settled that question for Toshiro. Whatever the fallout would be, it wouldn't make him regret his decision.

[Mission end, exit topic]

Toshiro: 90 CP - 50 CP = 40 CP

Jutsu: