نكت جميله جدااتمنى انها تعجبكم

Approved.

After having left the bloody lands of Amegakure, Kisho wandered and found himself entering the Land of Earth, home to the ruined Iwagakure village. Kisho had never been here before in his life, however he knew it was the origin of Raiga and Kaya, both called this home at one point before Kirigakure.

It was rather quiet here, only the crunch of hard dirt and rock under his boots was heard. The was a consistent breeze, carrying dust and small bits of rock around as he got closer to the ruin village. His modified mask and hood protected his vision however.

Kisho did not know what he was looking for while here exactly. Part of him wanted to pay respect to the memory of his fallen comrade Kaya, seeing where it was she had come from as if he would see her reborn here. Then another part of him hoped he would run into Raiga, hoping this was where he had fled to after disappearing from Kirigakure without explanation during a time of crisis. However he knew he would find nothing here, nothing but remnants of old memories not belonging to himself.

There was nothing but fallen and crumbling structures around Kisho, there did not feel to be any life here. It was similar to the feeling of Amegakure, except all the blood and bodies here had long been taken by nature. It was no secret anymore as to what happened in this village, even the genin knew.

Kisho would walk upon a fallen building, choosing to sit upon it's highest edge, where he could view the lone road easily. Not that he expected to see anyone come or leave from either end, but the view was nice. He would sigh to himself as he would just take the time to rest and think about his next destination. He believed Kumogakure was not far from this Earth Country and would be an interesting place to go. Perhaps he would be able to meet some people that could help him toward his goal. That village had been known for it's unusual ideals.

There might have been a time when Zaraki was known for his wanton bloodlust, the sword on his belt was all he needed to strive against the world. There was a time where he was known as the wondering wielder of death and destruction. Its interesting what a little time will do to a person. Well, that and getting your ass handed to you by one Serpent. His body still held scars from there fight in Land of Snow, he reveled in that fight, the pure unadulterated abandonment of any civilized notions. Zaraki longingly looked out from the single road he walked, earning in his eyes to once again face the Serpent in battle, the ultimate victory would be his. He was no longer the General of an army, he was no longer the commander on the field, he was just a military adviser now, for a city that was growing more civilized and cultured, and less fanatic about its revenge and vengeance. For too long Iwagakure had scrapped and scavenged from the bottom rungs for food and basic shelter. Now that those same people had been giving it, they instead weaseled out an existence that included shaking there fist and booing when the names of the Great Villages were mentioned. It was pitiful, the fire in there bellies was extinguished long ago, too long for Zaraki to be useful. Today wasn't the day for revenge, it was the day for surviving, for living for tomorrow, and for whatever pitiful hope they may have gathered. Zaraki had one final gift given to him, a hope born from hatred and disgust. He was to go and just wreck shit in a village. All out, no bar holds, it was going to be either his dying breath, or his triumph crowning achievement. He knew that, and that was most likely what Serpent wanted from him. It was a hard line and a hard road, Serpent needed his military skills and army to do what he did, but in return Zaraki wanted to fight Serpent again. Zaraki was a loose cannon, unable to be bullied or harangued into compliance.

So he marched on the dusty road, every day at the crack of dawn, by himself. The military man always kept his routine and always kept his duty, even if that meant no one else would. Yes, the lone solider marching on a lone stretch of road, marching towards what some might see as death.

OOC: Lets see ya tackle that one Mr. Hoity Toity :p

As Kisho sat, listening to his own thoughts, someone would catch his eye walking along the dirt road. At first sight, a rush of emotion would wash over him. A samurai? Kisho was assuming so by the chosen attire this individual wore. There were unsettled feelings brewing deep within Kisho since the attack the samurai had made against Kirigakure. One would think he would have let go of those feelings since having abandoned the village, but no, one does not let go of the destruction of a place once called home. Kisho clenched his teeth behind his mask as he watched the man carefully. Right now, right now was the perfect moment to just attack without notice, without alert, a swift kill to get rid of one's anger.

No, that would not do. This was too personal for Kisho, he wanted the samurai to witness his rage, hear it, feel it, and die by it. Kisho would gracefully hop down from the edge of the fallen building toward the lone road, centering himself in it. The samurai coming toward him now as he stood in his path, the distance at this time a lengthy 20 meters but they both could be seen easily by one another. Kisho would stare silently for a moment, his hands loose and ready to act for a jutsu or to grab a weapon, to fight hand to hand, to defend, he was completely ready for whatever he may need at a moments notice.

Kisho wondered what he should say at this time. Should he shout to the samurai about how much he hated him for what they did to Kirigakure and what he assumed they did to Amegakure? Should he just scream out in frustration, a yell of growing rage, a battle cry? Should he ask questions of why they did what they did? There was too much to say. So Kisho remained silent for now. Perhaps the samurai would speak first after having someone jump into his path? Kisho did not know, however what he did know was that there would be blood spilled again on this street in Iwagakure.

To say, one was surprised by a uninvitational path crosser, Zaraki found himself continuing his march down the road before a man appeared before him. It was hard to tell what was what, out here in the wilderness that usually meant three things. Bandits ready to attack, staking claim to some ill gotten bylaws. Peasants demanding food or other such mercies that they feel should be entitled to them. A child fathered by Zaraki come to seek some sort of guidance or ask questions that were best left unsaid. Now, the first one was fairly common, though Zaraki was fairly certain he had walked this road daily, and cleaned out most before hand. Kumogiakure was up and running, so finding peasants in the abandoned sections was increasingly rare. This left the third and only logical option, a bastard son Zaraki had sired way back when, come to find his father. That or this dude was crazy, Zaraki had met his share of people who got hit in the head a little bit too hard to remember that rainbows weren't portals to heaven. A small sigh left his lips, he had hoped for a more rambunctious attack, maybe some clever traps laid, Zaraki once fell into a hole before blasting his way out. Another time someone tired the old helpless woman routine, Zaraki knew that pregnant woman who was screaming for help was a trap, so he killed them all, clever pricks with there exploding tag babies inside women, bullocks the lot of them. But this, well silence usually meant some heavy crap was coming, har, Zaraki knew that well, when he got silent with a woman, something heavy was coming, usually ending with a slap or some comment about too fast and too furious. It was a lark that it was.

He wouldn't startle the fellow, perhaps he would, but he would cough and let his voice carry that distance, a little wind biting at there necks. "Ahem... mind telling me whatever bullshit story ya got so we can both get on with our lives?" gruff perhaps wasn't the word to describe it best, nasty and vile didn't work either. Menacing and jaded seemed to be an accurate way to describe Zaraki's current situation. Should he be alarmed enough, he might grab at his weapon and react in a stunning display of speed and strength, but Zaraki had enough sense to know what he was being threatened, and enough to know when to do the threatening. It was best left to the fellow over yonder to decide what he wanted to do, reckonin that Zaraki was pretty close too annoyed, but not close to bloodlust.

The samurai's words were both unusual and arrogant in context and tone respectively. This annoyed Kisho but at the same time he guess it could only be expected when someone obviously has something against you but has not yet revealed what it was. Kisho would laugh to himself, realizing how childish he was being at this moment. It was the academy all over again except this time, this was between two adults and death and injury were allowed results.

"I've come to pay you and your people back for what you've done to my home. Even if that village means nothing to me now, I can only have hatred toward your people." Kisho would say rather vaguely. It was almost as if what he was saying was a confirmation to himself and whether or not he actually meant it. However he was sure from that point on the samurai understood this fight was a fight of revenge and honor.

After saying that, Kisho would quickly draw a scroll unleashing it's contents with a cloud of smoke, revealing the puppet Roach. Roach wore a black sleeveless cloak, the hood of which hid its face in shadow. Roach was 6'3" in height and weighed 230lbs in materials. Kisho's chakra threads were the basic type for now and had their visibility suppressed so they would go unseen to the normal eye and senses. Kisho's skills with handling a puppet required little movement between his fingers and the puppet, he could make the machine do whatever he needed with just the slightest twitch. So his hands would appear to rest at his sides, idle, but that was a false assumption to take.

When the cloud of smoke would appear, Kisho had the samurai's location dead on sight, and knowing so he would have Roach charge quickly out of the cloud toward the man. Roach's speed would be quite amazing, comparable with some of the greatest taijutsu users. Once Roach was 5 meters from the samurai, the puppet would begin to fire a volley of 30 senbon coated in a crimson liquid at sharp speed while moving in a circular path around the samurai. Simultaneously, the puppet would be releasing a dark red gas toward the samurai, to act as a smoke screen to hide the senbons from being seen by the target. Kisho was also simply testing the samurai's prowess, knowing he must have been strong but just how strong? This attack served a double purpose.

Kisho would also remain on guard with his own immediate surroundings, in case the samurai had his friends show up from somewhere to sneak attack the former Mizukage. Kisho's eyes behind the reflective lenses of his mask were full of anger and determination, he would make sure the samurai got what they deserved.

"I've come to pay you and your people back for what you've done to my home. Even if that village means nothing to me now, I can only have hatred toward your people." The fellow said vaguely, but it was no matter. Such statements are never a good thing, especially in cold openings like this. Zaraki knew such things were most often said by tempestuous young men with nothing to lose, men like Zaraki, with there hotheaded attitudes and take on the world crap. Zaraki had no time for such foolishness, he was older, more robust and determined, even so as to know when young men are just young men. The fellow reacted very fast, whipping out a scroll in no time flat. A summoner? Ah, the answer came quickly, puppets. Nasty things they were, used often by cowards, an don a rare occasion by people who were just batshit insane. Zaraki liked that spunk, he liked that the fellow came in like a bolt of lighting, one hoping he held the balls to finish the job. Zaraki on the other hand, would come out like rolling thunder, let the world tremble in his might.

When that puppet came racing out, with that chattering or whatever it is they do, Zaraki reacted as if there was nothing to this job. It was quite sad really, Zaraki, here he was, out and about, minding his own business, and still he had to teach the world. It was a heavy burden. The puppet closed in, Zaraki reacted, with blinding speed, he was after all a master, and even at his age he was faster with his sword than any was with there fists. He covered a distance of around 7 meters in a instant, already his sword out, he would go after the puppet, but not just go after it, he would wreak that shit up. He was using a recognizable technique, Iai Break, using his incredible speed, but this was no ninja, there were no handseals to stop. What was the point of using such a technique, even a master may question it. But not Zaraki, his sword held the answers, as he came upon the puppet, faster than it he dare say could move, his legendary sword swung out, catching it. In an instant an explosion rocked the area, not huge at all, small by its standards. A 10 meter epicenter explosion, it would destroy the puppet, and cause a huge cloud of debris in the the wake should the fellow not react accordingly, and even if he did, Zaraki doubted he would be nimble enough to do so, the Iai Break allowed samurai to close distances quickly, before even great ninja to finish handseals, coupled with Zaraki's amazing speed, and Shibuki would leave little room for any differences in speed. Zaraki however, was out of harms way, but he wasn't going to let this impudent man off so easily. His sword was back in its scabbard, and handseals abound, only 5 seals, using the explosion as a distraction. This was a very unique and contrived jutsu, Earth Release: Scattered Debris Turtle. The ground around Zaraki in a roughly 15 meter center crumbled into a debris, before uplifting into the sky. This was a very powerful move in its own right, creating a sandstorm like area of effect. A keen observer may recognize it, however one would have to be familiar with doton moves. Hiding in the dust storm, one could hear Zaraki's voice, he was a mere shadow now, moving silently behind the wall of debris flying around.

"Welcome to my home, the former shell of Iwagakure, its peoples hatred is a thousand times that of yours" His voice low and cold, let the fellow realize just what a mess he stepped into.

The samurai was fast, much faster than Kisho had anticipated but he did not underestimate the foe. After all he was simply testing the waters. Obviously Kisho would need to be able to immobilize the samurai some how, slow him down at the least. The samurai would shorten the distance between his previous position and the puppet by 7 meters, meaning the two would come into contact 13 meters away from Kisho himself. There was an impact like no other, an explosion that would quickly expand 10 meters one would assume, Kisho would distance himself regardless for he was unsure of the nature of the explosion and how large it would have been. When short on time to react, one does not have time to calculate and can only assume. Based on an assumption, Kisho would make the hand seal necessary for the body flicker, further distancing himself by an additional 10 meters, safe from the explosion and immediate resulting debris.

However that did not appear to be the end of the exchange, for he could hear the loud cracking of the earth as it crumbled away ahead of him, moving his way. A couple of dashes backwards as a precaution Kisho would successfully avoid falling into what he assumed would be a pit forming. However that was not the danger. The danger was the sudden rise of the crumbled debris resulting in a violent tempest, yet lucky for him his moving backwards would still prevent himself from being caught in its wake. Kisho stood outside the edge of the swirling vortex of debris by 10 meters. All of the moving backwards, he could not help but feel that the samurai was forcing him into a long distance fight.

As Kisho looked toward the wall of debris he could make out what he believed to be a shadow like silhouette within. He believed that to be the samurai, hiding as he would speak out: "Welcome to my home, the former shell of Iwagakure, its peoples hatred is a thousand times that of yours". Kisho felt he knew all too well the hatred carried by the people of Iwagakure, he had a "sensei" that displayed it greatly. So what were the samurai playing at? Were their intentions for the sake of Iwagakure? He doubted it but he did not know for sure, nor did he really care. That time had passed.

Kisho's hands would fly together quickly for 3 quick seals: Bird, Dragon and ending with the clap hands seal notion. With that, Kisho would seem to summon his own tempest of a storm. With a 35 meter epicenter, a barrier of wind would violently take place confining the 35 meter range of space which would seemingly include the debris storm inside of it and by default, the samurai if Kisho was correct in assuming he was within that. This was perhaps Kisho's own way of showcasing a power over nature, amongst other things. Within this storm the samurai would find no air to breath as it was being pulled out and away from the inside of the storm. Every breath he would attempt to take would be accompanied by light headedness and his lungs would feel as if they were being squeezed tighter each time, unable to expand completely following inhalation. The samurai most likely would be feeling an intense sensation of sluggish movement as well, which is what Kisho was going after.

Following the final seal and execution of his Air Lock, Kisho would quickly grab his next scroll, realizing that Roach was now long gone. This time the content unleashed from the puppet would be none other than El Tigre, a golem type puppet as Kisho would call it, taking on the form of a large tiger. El Tigre was 6 ft tall on all fours, capable of standing in a humanoid like stance at 15 ft on its hind legs and weighing 600 lbs in materials. The tiger's paws alone were slightly larger than the samurai's chest, the head being bigger than his upper torso completely. This was no small puppet and was perhaps Kisho's second best, Roach being his weakest. So Kisho was sure that the samurai would have a more difficult time destroying this puppet as he did Roach.

"Fuck you." Kisho would say aloud though he doubt with all going on, the samurai would be able to hear the words. As he said those words immediately following the release of his puppet, aiming for the samurai once again, El Tigre would stand in front of Kisho and fire 4 chained spears from hidden slots on it's back toward the man through the debris field, coated in a red liquid hue from its inner workings. Their accuracy and aim easily directed by the puppeteer himself, so precision was not in doubt at all. The chained spears were capable of extending a total of 70 meters, the chains connecting the spear heads to the puppet were razor sharp and could damage just as easily as the spears could. The spears would fire at a remarkable speed, 60 meters in a second as the logistics would put it. Speed and power were the ideal results for this puppet when Kisho created it. It was made to leave a path of destruction.

After have given the commands for his puppet with the movements of his fingers, Kisho would then prep for a follow up should his attack not succeed fully and while the samurai should have been slightly distracted. Kisho's hands would come together for seals: tiger, boar, and ram. None of which would affect his puppet's initiated actions thanks to his skillful puppet handling technique. With those three seals, Kisho would bring into existence a thousand crows of a unique nature that would take flight 20 meters above, circling and remaining fairly silent for now outside of the loud flapping of their wings. Kisho was also growing concerned with this dust storm, wondering exactly what kind of nasty things the samurai could do with it. Caution was still necessary.

With that done, he simply waited on alert for the result of his attack. He doubt that the samurai would remain without a scratch due to the circumstances. Yet this was all still yet another testing of his prowess to Kisho, just of a higher caliber for a strong opponent.

(I told you I wasn't going to be picky, but fair warning, in your previous post, you made great mention of your skills with puppetry and such, chakra threads as well, for future reference, I noticed you made no mention of ending you connection to Roach, if any part of him was left over, it should be brought along with you when you jumped back, pieces and such. Since they are an active technique used each turn, mentioning you didn't cut those cables would be something I will capitalize in the future should it come up. Hope that doesn't sound mean lawl)

Zaraki watched as the debris field kicked up, this fellow was no slouch, and he wasn't no punk either. Usually these things start with some name calling, then shouting of titles and victories, maybe even some remote crap about them that they feel is important, but no, this fellow was a pro at the whole ninja thing. It did spark a little curiosity in him. The fellow formulated hand-signs, they were quick, but no where near a veteran such as himself. Which was a good thing to notice, but that jutsu however was most disconcerting. Zaraki felt himself short of breath, a little labored, yes that was it. He took a look at the man, already preparing his next move, bullock, just full of it. Zaraki really could hear the words the man was saying but he noticed that with this biting wind, his debris field remained unchanged. With no effort, it was a easy solution to these problems, and it presented itself quite nicely. This man wasn't any ninja, no this man was a coward, the worst kind. Hiding behind puppets and paltry genjutsu's, that is now how real men fought. What a waste. Zaraki would not stand for it, no he would of course put this little rebel over his knee and teach him what it means to fight like a man. This latest puppet was much larger, more foreboding, perhaps, it didn't matter to Zaraki, puppeteers, what a waste. He watched, this puppeteer was perhaps not the brightest one, at least not yet. Those chains came in, extremely swiftly, hitting Zaraki with a resounding thud, as if they buried themselves deep within. A smile crept over his face, well if one could see the smile, Zaraki wasn't exactly visible at this point. Reaching out, the debris field would increase to double its size, picking up the remaining debris from the explosion this was no ordinary field.

His outstretched hand found those chains as debris raced along them black flecks sprinkled around, Zaraki wondering just how many puppets he was going to have to face to hit the master, the destroy one was surely among the field now. Zaraki couldn't see what the man was doing, but inside that field, he was a true General. The fellow was within the field, his chakra and what he was doing was now known to Zaraki, so too were those crows, caught up in its wake. He wondered what to do, it was a waiting game now, Zaraki and the fellow. He was more secure here, than anywhere else, debris flying everywhere, clouding the view, his chakra heavy and thick in there, impossible to see, the growing storm started to howl, yes, soon he thought, soon it shall be howling, reaching to the heavens, and then he would show his deadly form. With his other hand he prepared one hand sign, perhaps his most deadly move, he was ready for the counter brought about by the fellow, should there be any.

There was a nice sound of impact with the chains yet their lacked the sound of pain and agony. What did this mean? Did he miss? Indeed the tiger puppet was in front of him standing slightly to the left on all four paws, so Kisho could see the target he had aimed for indeed. It did not seem that he had missed, though he could not really tell with all the dust flying around.

Suddenly the storm grew and would take in Kisho and his puppet unexpectedly. Kisho furrowed his brows behind his mask, finding this quite peculiar and annoying at the same time. What was that samurai planning? It was now very obvious that he had either missed or did not kill the samurai, but no matter even a single scratch from those spears and chains, anything that would allow the poison to enter the body of the samurai would suffice if they had hit at all. But with the storm having grown, Kisho was now done testing the waters, he felt himself in dangerous territory and was ready to give his all. The samurai should still be feeling the effects of his Air Lock, Kisho was unsure if the man had released the genjutsu. Had he not, then his time was already approaching an end.

Kisho's hands would come together for the single bird seal, which would cause the crows above flying within the dust storm to caw loudly and hysterically. Should the sound fall upon the ears of the samurai as it should easily, then he would notice his vision blur for a brief moment as their Call of Death would take effect. The samurai would have his sense of direction inversed without his knowing it at the moment instantly as well would lose the ability to feel anything in this reality, that last part perhaps being a gift amongst the curse.

Seeing within this debris storm was becoming quite the hindrance and Kisho disliked his position. So after activating the jutsu, Kisho would begin to make his escape throwing his hands together again for the single seal necessary to execute the body flicker which he would use to take him backwards and out of the debris storm and onto the clear lone road, 15 meters outside the debris field. He would pull on the only threads he had in use attached to El Tigre, which would cause the tiger puppet to stand on it's hind legs to a height of 15 ft and jump backwards greatly out of the storm hopefully. The 4 chains would be retracted back with the same blinding speed they had shown before, they would snatch out of whatever it was they had impacted, ripping it apart in the process. El Tigre would land to Kisho's left. The crows would remain within debris storm squawking their song for the samurai should he still be within it.

Kisho wanted to get rid of said storm and the samurai as well now, if anything bring him out of hiding. Kisho's hands would fly together for six seals: dog, tiger, boar, dragon, bird, and ending with the clap hands seal notion. The wind around him would kick up violently, more violently than anything seen here on this street yet. It would move forward ahead of him, gathering itself in the form of a mighty serpent made of compressed sharp blades of wind. As it would race forward with 80 mph wind speeds, the serpents body would increase to the length of 50 meters and be 5 meters in diameter. Kisho guiding the the serpent with the aim of his right arm, since his puppet was being controlled by his left. Kisho would have the serpent charge into the debris storm and rip through it, circling within it ferocity, blindly targeting the samurai from his new position but overall going for the goal of disrupting the storm completely. Kisho could have the wind that made of the body of the serpent change flow direction in an instant which would allow the serpent to reverse it's direction just as instantaneously. If played right, this jutsu alone could end the battle for good.

[I will be calling a landed hit]

Ah, the young call of youth, so eager and ripe. Here inside this debris field, there was none but him, and him alone would sunder this youth. Those chains came ripping in, impacting Zaraki's debris ridden body. The youth was more tempestuous to assume such attacks would work against him, Zaraki was a doton master, wielder of the legendary shibuki, home in Iwagakure, where he learned the art of Assimilate all Creation. Those spears would nail him right in the chest, he used the debris field as cover for such a technique, all it required was minimal effort for one such as him. However his body wouldn't be blown to bits, no, he was a master of sand after all, and those chains stuck, with a resounding thud.

Spoiler:

The sand had reached the puppet and began infesting it full of that black speckled sand his clan was famous for, a technique made famous by Gaara, Sand Binding Coffin. Zaraki on the other hand (pun intended) released the seal, Crystal Release; Crystal Imprisonment Wave, black crystals would form, capturing not only those pesky birds, solid in crystal. Raining down from there lofty flight. The debris had grown to encompass the fellow, its howling had grown to the point that was all one may hear, or not depending on the situation. The fellow jumped back preforming the body flicker move, smart man, getting out of the field. Zaraki knew this genjutsu would wear on him, his movements were sluggish, preforming another ninjutsu would be difficult. So he did the only smart thing, he let this fellow do all the work. Moving out of the debris field, he pulled the puppet back.

Genesis wrote:

The 4 chains would be retracted back with the same blinding speed they had shown before

Zaraki had a hold on those chains and the puppet, it would pull him out with such speed, it was staggering to believe. Catching the fellow off guard, his sword swung out, hoping to catch the ninja as he completed his hand-seals, sluggish movements or not, he was still faster than any less than a master preforming those seals, using the Iai Break technique. There would be a glint in his eyes, as the sword released a huge explosion, roughly 20 meters, Shibuki was a fickle bitch it was. But Zaraki wasn't there, he was behind the man, Assimilate All Creation: Sand Binding Coffin still holding onto the puppet, ready to crush it, a good 25 meters behind the man as the debris storm grew exponentially larger from the damage caused by Shibuki, it was now covering the foreseeable area. A sigh of relief as he could break normally, noticing his movements weren't sluggish anymore, outside of whatever technique that fellow used.

He held a smirk, the man must be intelligent too use genjutsu, but Zaraki was a fighter, he used the man's own puppets to pull him close, forgoing any notion of moving towards him, then using Shibuki's unique nature to move him out of that cursed space. Zaraki was no stranger to dirty fighting, one hand held Shibuki, the other outstretched with debris speckled with black flecks attached to the puppet. Preparations were not needed, the next step was the obvious one.

[Meh long shot post, whatever happens happens I guess. But yeah this is me attempting to take advantage of that window lol]

Things did not seem to be in Kisho's favor at all right now. When Kisho had made the decision to pull his puppet out of the storm he would not know that he was making the decision to bring the samurai out with him. The man came flying out, holding on to the chain of El Tigre which was encased in some weird crystal. But there was no time for analyzing that. The man was coming toward Kisho as he was preparing to finish the seals with the clap hands notion, however Kisho could tell there would be no time to finish it with the speed the man was using. Kisho knew not the nature of the man's strange blade and it's paper like markings that seemed to spark as it was being swung toward him.

What was he to do? He needed to move but there was hardly any time in this situation. There was one thing he could attempt, it would be sly and swift, and there was the chance of failure. Kisho would extend his chakra threads toward the man's swinging arm and his blade as well. 5 more threads would come from his left hand's fingers, including the 5 he had on El Tigre that would be 10 total form that hand alone. 5 more would come off his right. The man's blade swing stopped his previous that he attempted to execute and Kisho would move his hands back to avoid hitting the blade. There was a sparking occurring in front of him, signaling an coming explosion and the samurai was now moving quickly away past him, gaining position on his back side. Should Kisho's chakra threads been allowed to make contact with the man's arm, hand and/or blade's hilt, Kisho would execute his secrete puppet technique: transitioning. This was a tailored substitution jutsu that would allow him to switch places with samurai, placing him away from what was about to happen and putting the samurai in Kisho's position at the center of the possible explosion. With how fast the samurai was attempting to get close to Kisho then away, it should have been easy for the threads to attach themselves in such close proximity without notice. There were no hand seals necessary for this escape plan, which should've helped.

If all went accordingly, Kisho would end up about 15 meters and flying backwards with carried momentum from swapping places with the samurai pushing him back a further 10 meters from the expanding explosion just enough to escape its range of devastation. Kisho would hit the ground roll onto his feet and attempt to analyze the situation at hand. His puppet El Tigre had been left where it was and the explosion would sever his threads to it just the same as the previous one had with Roach. However unlike this time, he did not expect that explosion to destroy El Tigre, damage it yes probably but this puppet was highly durable to explosions and even so to jutsu.

Having undergo that experience, it would be clear to Kisho now that the samurai's strange sword was the cause of these explosions, seeming to release a mass of explosive tags near the target when swung. So he would need to avoid playing the close range game with the man.

Now he needed to see if that man somehow survived his own explosion. The large dust storm settling would be a good sign especially since now it had grown to such a great size. All Kisho could do was wait and be on guard.

Zaraki rang in with a bang, those chains pulling him closer and closer, reaching out he swung his mighty sword, there it was. That fellow had used his chakra strings and attached them to his arm, even removing it from his puppet, but it was too late, Zaraki's strike came in hot. In that second it took him to move behind him, the explosion would occur, but suddenly Zaraki was not there. Curse this fellow, creating his sluggish movements. That fellow had pulled a fast one on him, but it wasn't just that, Zaraki hate that feeling that came with his explosions. It happened suddenly, Zaraki knew, he couldn't stop it, at least not yet. He was blown into the puppet, the big lug took a huge explosion with some hits and scrapes. Zaraki with his Assimilate all Creation would easily survive the explosion, being blown into the puppet as it flew a few dozen meters to the left, no longer attached to the fellow, it would just be blown around like a doll, standing and all it was impressive and strong, but without any grounding, it was easily moved. Zaraki slowly reformed himself from the body of the puppet, he haunting appearance would perhaps seem strange to one who may see him, but in this dust storm, one couldn't see through it. Zaraki could breath normally again, outside the influence of the move, he regained his breath and his movement speed.

He knew that he couldn't stay in this form forever, and it was better to use it now as more of a surprise than a tool. But not before he had one last trick, he of course knew exactly where that man was, being in the debris field meant his sensory skills would be used to the fullest. He used Assimilation: Rock Blizzard, but since he was of a notable bloodline, rocks were not fired out, no something more sinister and darker was. All those crows that had been crystallized began to pepper the air, of course this move wasn't an accurate or precise one, instead pelting the area where the fellow was, like a hail storm they would come in. Zaraki laughed, the move would continue on for a moment or two before stopping, as his body reformed on top of the puppet, no longer using the Assimilate All creation technique.

"Ah ha ha ha, ya got some spunk in ya fellow, the cut of ya jib is a bit above the vagabonds I face." He said, his laughter could be heard in the storm, it seemed louder and harsher at best. He was ready to counter, but he wished to at least know this person that he was fighting. Knowing an opponents name was a sign of honor with him, and this fellow put up enough of a fight to be worthy of that.

"Whats your name fellow? Are you out seeking vengeance? Ah ha ha ha, you ninja are all the same, you think your village bestows power on you. Real power ah ha ha ha, is what you see before you, Iwagakure had it once, before your lot destroyed it, gathering under a banner of trust and cooperation to kill us. I left that world behind, Ah ha ha ha, that world is so shallow and full of false crap. You got some skill fellow" He grabbed his sword and swung it over his back, his laughter was perhaps a bit sad, a little hollow as he laughed not because it was funny, but because it was sad. Pathetic those villages were.

"So, I attack ya village over yonder, and ya no longer apart of it? What, they kick ya out for not being strong enough? Ah ha ha ha, I have yet to meet a decent challenge, I decided ta join up with them Samurai, we're going to put this world right, cripple the villages and let them return to the rats they are" He stood, a grin on his face, the coming war always brought a smile to his face, it was going to be glorious thing.

Kisho scanned the area after the explosion, being on the look out of the samurai, waiting for the storm to settle and signal his demise. However that signal never came and the storm raged on. He was growing quite annoyed with the storm, finding it hard to see within it still.

Suddenly a darker movement would catch his eye, a mass of black dust approaching him above like an ominous cloud. Then suddenly one after another black crystal like structures began to fall around the area near him. He would start to dodge them left and right as their pace of fall was rather slow, however he could see that it was beginning to pick up and he would not be able to dodge forever. As he dodged for now, his hand would weave together quickly forming seals: Boar, Dragon, Clap Hands, Bird, and ended with the clap hands notion. With the final seal, Kisho would stop moving for a force of wind was summoned above him, spending 20 meters and acting as a wall between himself and the incoming crystal hail. This was his Wall of Air jutsu and despite the element was a rather strong defense that capable of withstanding this hail.

So the samurai was still alive? He could hear the man's words echo out toward him. His words about the villages giving power and they being shallow were true to Kisho. It just angered him that he would be able to agree with this man, yet he could not deny it. This was real power? Kisho narrowed his eyes behind his mask, wondering if this truly was what he was seeking out. He listened as the man would go on to assume Kisho was simply kicked out of his village for being weak. How wrong he was, if anything it was the opposite. Kisho left that village behind because it was holding him back from really being strong, from seeing things for what they were. So the samurai were going to correct the world? Showcasing overwhelming violence was indeed a true way to make people see that they weren't really powerful, just under a hierarchy that made them feel that way. That's what it took for Kisho to see, amongst other things. Why was he agreeing with this man in mind? Why was he even bothering with listening to his words? He had come here for revenge, an eye for an eye. Then it clicked in the mind of Kisho, an eye for an eye was what he was going to get.

"MY NAME IS DANTE KISHO, THE GENESIS FROM KIRIGAKURE. BUT I'VE LEFT THAT PLACE BEHIND AND I AGREE WITH YOU, SO WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO COME TO A CONSENSUS. BUT RIGHT NOW, IT'S AN EYE FOR AN EYE. YOU ATTACK MY HOME, I ATTACK YOURS." he would say, and as he was speaking loudly to the samurai and the wall of air above was holding off the hail, Kisho would weave another set of hand seals, ones he attempted before: Dog, Tiger, Boar, Dragon, Bird, and ending with the clap hands notion by the time he completed his last sentence.

With that final seal, utilizing the gathered air above and more around him, Kisho would summon a mighty serpent of compressed wind blades that would rise in the air growing to a length of 50 meters and having a diameter of 5 meters. Under the guidance of his chosen hand, the serpent would decimate the hail and the black dust cloud it had come from. Not only that, but the serpent would move with ferocious 80mph winds and would go on a rampage destroying near buy buildings still standing. He was not sure if there were people still in those, but to this samurai this place was his home right? As the serpent would move about he was hoping it would also clear away this debris storm. He would even have it rush in the direction of the samurai's voice he had heard, perhaps this would interrupt the man from maintaining the storm and if not, hurt him, maybe even kill. If the man survived with this real power he said he had, then Kisho would give the crazy thought a try, maybe he could find real power with these people. Maybe he could change this world through them. He may not completely like the people but he had to admit their goals and ideals were similar and he could use more people with those ideals.

General Zaraki had a haunting laugh as he stood with a grin on his face, his eyes wide, his sword over his shoulder, a mighty hand help upon it. He thought only of death and destruction, of mass chaos in his wake, of a retribution of titanic proportions. He would tare the world asunder with his might, cleave open the earth as was his way. A new path would have to be forged ahead, but now, now was the time to revel in his recent infamy from this fellow.

He could feel the man begin weaving hand-signs, to begin whatever counter it was. Zaraki stiffed a chuckle, his Rock Blizzard made from those crows the man had summoned had not gone unnoticed, but Zaraki was in no position too argue, he wasn't aiming for precision, just a large scale damaging move, to get rid of any traps that may lay about. Zaraki was no stranger to ninja ways, and there horrid notion of being a pure and honorable thing, as they rig a trap for you based on nothing more than you are a rabbit and they a hawk. Foolish they were, just foolish. Zaraki watched as the man moved to dodge and weave the hail, before starting a set of hand-signs, what was his plan, Zaraki his hand steady on the blade. He stopped and Zaraki could feel the barrier of air around him, what a horrid fellow, fuuton was always a fickle thing, almost as fickle as his sword.

The man shouted something, to which Zaraki couldn't hear, he heard the shouting, but it was so muffled with distance that it was unclear what was said. Something about eyes and attacking, and then he attacked the moors. It was all very odd, but this fellow was a bit odd. But that wasn't the fun part, the fun part was the hand-signs the man began weaving, Zaraki was too far away to get there in time before he completed them, but he would take a second and see what this brought. And what it brought was fuuton, a horrid display of it no less.

Zaraki, there on top of the puppet watched as something formed from wind, a dragon. The move was strong, and for that moment when he felt it, Zaraki just thought the man was perhaps a decent fellow to fight. The thing lashed about, perhaps it had some sort of wild rampage, lashing from here to there, and then Zaraki saw its purpose. The Earth Release: Scattered Debris Turtle was being whipped up and cleared out, like a snake moving in a storm, it scattered it. It must have been powerful to do such a thing, Zaraki for a moment had a clear view, before he saw both the fellow and the dragon. It came roaring at him, his field clear, no longer in the sensory dome. Zaraki did what was natural, or perhaps he did was came instinctively. His sword over his back, he moved like lightning, it came forward and stabbed right into the now limp puppet underneath him. If it could withstand the explosion previously, it could withstand this dragon he thought.

With his sword impaling the puppet he hoisted it up, with a small grin on his face his sword tingling to get ready. A explosion rocked the area, as the puppet would no doubt explode, as the oncoming serpent would smash into it. This time however Zaraki was blown backward by it all, the puppet was more shot forward a bit before hitting the dragon, as Zaraki was smashed meters away into the ground. Cuts along his face, one large one running down his eye, which was closed now. Blood welling up and running down, a few bruises, a few cuts and even a gash or two on his back from landing on rocks and such. This was Iwagakure after all. He stood up, Shibuki would need to rest after that explosion for a bit, his hand steady on the hilt. He looked to be in worse shape than he was, it was more small marks than large ones. He would ready himself, but he was a good distances away now from the fellow now.

"Tich, ya not without skill fellow, but this fancy dance we doing has just run its course, I believe its time too dispense with the first act and head onto the second ehh" He was ready, or perhaps ready wasn't the right word, he was daring the fellow to make a move, he knew he was marginally better at ninjutsu than the man, and if he could get close to him again, he would end it.

[OOC: I did that because I read your math part, and your fairly decent with it, but the serpent only goes about 50 meters, you moved 25 away from me, leaving 25 left, and I was blown back a few dozen meters, to which I'll say the Wind Dragon thing was pretty close too the end of its rope. As of now, I believe I'm more than 50ish meters away from you, which is why I had the damage done that way.]

The serpent rampaged as willed by Kisho and even cleared the storm so he could see his target. The serpent had come down on the samurai with expected ferocity, creating a sizable explosion that most likely wasn't only caused by it. Kisho would have the serpent disperse after impact.

His eyes stared over the distance, as the dust would settle. Was the samurai done? Or did his "real power' save him? Kisho for the first time felt conflicted with what he wanted out of this battle. Part of him wanted the samurai to be done, dead and gone so that he could be at piece of mind having gained his revenge. Then another side of him wanted the samurai alive, confirming all he believed and being a true symbol of strength and power in which Kisho could learn and grow from. Luckily his frustration was hidden by the mask he wore.

Then movement could be seen, the samurai was still alive. This was a confirmation that this man was the real deal to Kisho. He had gained some of his respect, not much past believing him to be a worthy fighter. He had not yet gained any of his loyalty however, that would require more than being a formidable foe. So what was he do to at this point?

The man would speak loudly over the distance to Kisho, suggesting that they move on to the real fight perhaps? Yet Kisho now was giving life to the idea of fighting no more, not right now, not for this moment. No, it was time to see if the men were really men and could discuss business.

"We could, but I feel I have satisfied my taste for vengeance for now. This real power…the one you were talking about before, the one you claim to have now…I'm curious as to how you gained it? The reason I left Kirigakure is because I've seen the flaws in this shinobi hierarchy. I've broken away from that and now I search for real strength." he would say aloud to the man, though it began to lean more so toward a confessional. Inside Kisho was in turmoil, he had left the place he called home, having proclaimed to no longer care for it…yet deep inside he felt like he was betraying them still by attempting to reconcile with the very people that attacked them. He was still trying to shake these lingering feelings of responsibility toward them, even as he stood here now. The only way he could move from that past, was to move on to this future. If he could do it, if he could work with these people and change the world forever so that the strong were truly noticed, then he would no longer have these feelings.

It was now up to this samurai if this fight would go on, whether it be by his choice of words or his actions. Kisho was willing to hear what the man had to say.

Standing upright, Zaraki looked at the fellow, there was a small glimmer in his eye, a little battered and little bruised, but Zaraki was happy. It was a good fight, the fellow put up some decent attacks. He could see him clearly, now for the first time. This fellow was a man, young and a little crisp, but he held experience behind him, though not as much as Zaraki thought he needed. He was a chipper fellow at that, not so full of himself as to realize a hard fight was a hard won fight. He straightened up and walked a little ways towards the man, a grin on his face, his sword over his shoulders, he stopped roughly the distance from the man when they first met on the road. Through by the looks of it, it wasn't much of a road anymore, the debris storm and caused the entire area around them to be littered with soot and sand and dust, it looked like a dust-storm rolled in. A few holes here and there from explosions and such, debris from the puppets also lay about, but that was for later.

Zaraki listened for a moment, before bursting out in laughter, it was a joyous and overbearing sort of laugh, like when a son tell's his father he is a man at 5 years old. "A ha ha ha ha, on young man you have left me sore with that one, a ha ha ha" He said, he slammed his sword into the ground, and leaned against it, wiping a tear from his eye. "Real power huh, is that what your after, humph, it doesn't exist in a place that can be found, or some bullshit learned from some old fucking man in a village. Nah boyo you got it all wrong, real power isn't gotten from a village, or a clan or anything of the sort. Its something you don't learn or gain through life. You ought to see it, in that little fucking misty eyed village of yours, you saw something that wasn't real power, it was just a form of power that has been used and abused for centuries by your lot." He said turning and looking around a bit, he needed to get his bearings straight, he wanted to get back to the strong hold before night, perhaps read up on some progress.

"Har, real power, you boyo, have no clue do ya. It ain't something ya find or get, its taught in a way, learned in a way. It doesn't come from winning battles or that shit, it comes from yourself, and once you realize that, you realize all these fucking villages are waste of breath and have nothing but abused power they have no fucking clue how to use. Come on boyo, I'm hungry, this place is a fucking eyesore" Zaraki said, before grabbing his sword, plucking it from the ground and stomping off, a chuckle escape his lips, something like, real power, tich, boyo ain't even cool enough. But that was a bit muffled and all.

The samurai began walking toward him again, chuckling. This touched Kisho in the wrong way slightly, making him want to stay on his guard which he would. The samurai would go on about how real power wasn't what Kisho thought it was. His entire explanation was interesting to Kisho though, because he didn't understand what the hell he was talking about. This was what some people would called being Mindfucked, even Kisho's genius couldn't really grasp what this man was saying. Then he returned to saying it in a way that Kisho felt like he understood. Real power not gained from winning battles, but learned in a way? Kisho wanted to learn exactly what this man was talking about then.

Kisho would follow the samurai as he suggested he was leaving, most likely for food? It was unsure of what this guy was thinking, for all Kisho knew he could be leading Kisho into a trap. Didn't help with the way he chuckled. However first thing was first, Kisho needed to gather all parts of his puppets, so he could repair them later. He would not bother with Roach, that puppet was too far gone, however El Tigre was mostly whole just greatly damaged obviously. He would seal it and the pieces into its scroll then continue on his way to follow the samurai.

"Where are we going?" he would ask, though he would follow the guy regardless. He would stay about 2 meters behind the guy and to the right as they would walk, personal space and what not. They weren't bestfriends, far from it. So there was still distrust there but Kisho was giving this a shot.

[Exit after Zaraki?]