[Week 22, Day 6] Accidental Video
Early evening, around sunset... a samurai and a ninja walk into a hidden paradise...
[If anyone had ever told Raikou that he would find himself sitting in a small oasis hidden amongst rocky foothills in the middle of the desert, he would have laughed at them. Yet here he sits, eyes heavy-lidded as he rests back comfortably against Iruka’s knees, his gamon propped against the stone beside Iruka, lulled near to sleep by the steady pressure of his friends fingers working a bright, neon-pink dye into his hair.
Just off to the side, there is a good sized fire crackling, an oddly-shaped lizard thing that Raikou really doesn’t want to think too closely on roasting above the flames, rice boiling in a pot beside it, their packs just beyond that, dropped neatly against a stone outcrop.
What can be seen of his eyes glitter in the evening light as russet eyes fix on the small waterfall and spring nestled back amongst the palm trees. He gives a contented little hum and slouches a bit more as his friend works.]
...Hey, Iruka? You think we’ll have any luck finding out about the fallen gods in this village? This is starting to feel like Mission Impossible.
Mission Insanity is a better term. Can’t really give you an answer to that.
[Fingers shift and proceeds to part more sections in the locks of hair that are now a smudge of crimson on gold, relaxed, slow lazy and mechanical movements - part, smudge, part, smudge, repeat and section once more.]
If your Lady isn’t sending you on a wild goose-chase, then we’re just going in circles. Still, I think we should keep looking. I don’t know about you, but you know I need to --
[Iruka’s hand stills completely in Raikou’s hair, shoulders stiffening and head shifting a little to the side, tilting upwards where a gust of wind billows and and brown eyes turn skyward. Frozen in a moment as instincts kicks in to gear, eyebrows narrowing for a moment --
-- the sudden shift in Iruka, the odd little kick of adrenaline that sparks to life in Raikou has the young samurai mimicking the other as he turns wary eyes up to the darkening sky. Just a moment of strained silence that has him reaching for his gamon, Iruka’s hands flying to his kunai holster.
Then a streaking flash of bluish-purple and an ear-splitting whistle as the trees before them burst into flames.
And neither of them is sure when the other moved, but in an instant Raikou finds himself clutching his gamon as he crouches behind a boulder, eyes wide, transfixed, on the creature lighting down across the clearing and Iruka digging out for smoke bombs, unaware that the Hitomi had fallen out of his pocket (much less that it is recording now that it has re-attached itself on Raikou’s belt) in the scramble as he hisses at Iruka.]
Are you kidding me - Senpai, is that a real fucking dragon?!
[Iruka doesn’t even get to answer because there’s another whistling noise and their backpacks, their supplies and everything else erupts in to flames. Iruka’s answer to Raikou’s question is a pink hand to scruff of his neck and hauling him away from the boulder, chakra charged feet leaping a good six feet away and protecting his charge and then a breathless and alarmed --]
Yes it’s a real fucking dragon! Run!
[Iruka doesn’t even wait because his hand is pushing Raikou towards the opposite direction again as dark smoke from a smoke bomb enshrouds their tracks momentarily because there’s another whistling noise and that sick, split-second realization that there was no way they were getting out of there like this. Smoke or not, that thing didn’t even need to move to attack and before there is a chance to get more than a few sprinted steps, the blast of hot air slams from behind, seconds before the first lick of flames.
Their first reactions is still to shift - Raikou, to turn and face his death rather that run, Iruka to throw an arm over his friend to protect him from the blast they can’t get away from. And in Raikou’s turning, he intentionally catches Iruka in the gut with his saya to throw him towards the water. Iruka doesn’t just stumble, he flies backwards form the impact of the explosion and the force of Raikou’s strength, nothing more than a desperate act in an impossible situation --]
Raikou!
[Because Raikou won’t be able to breath through the heat, not when Iruka’s hands are slamming in to seals and the water from the oasis rises to the shape of a dragon, the torrential force of the water cutting through the space above Iruka’s head, heading straight for Raikou where the flames had surrounded him. Where in his little burning form, the sudden chaotic spike of raw energy searing paths through him, crackle and scream as white-hot lightning cuts through the flames that engulfs Raikou, high voltage merging with the flow of Suiton: Suiryuudan and heading straight for the creature, slams right in to it.
It happens in seconds.
There is a shrill scream, and it might have been Iruka’s own voice at the sight of a friend engulfed in flames, or it might have been Raikou burning alive. But the scream cuts through the silence of the desert planes, as fire and electricity and water clashes against the raging creature, before everything just explodes. A rush of wind, another shrill cry of a beast and the flap of skin and scales before the shadow engulfed in flames and water and steam sinks to its knees and there is a loud dragging splash somewhere the Hitomi can’t see, tropical rain from the jutsu drenching the surrounding dry lands. Iruka’s form appears in a blurred flash beside the kneeling man hands on his shoulders, where pale skin and the shimmering lines of an unnatural tattoo gleams unmarred from beneath the ashen tatters of what is left of the samurai’s clothes.]
Raikou! Raikou! Oi!
[A cough, deep and hacking, as if gasping for breath before Raikou manages to look up at Iruka through matted bangs -- ]
S-senpai... you okay?
[-- that billows under the force of Iruka’s concerned yell.]
You were on fucking fire! And you look perfectly okay and fine! What the hell are you even asking? Are you crazy?
[There is a brush of hands on skin, and remains of the tatters of Raikou’s clothes shoved aside, as is the Hitomi, that tumbles a feet away, rolls around to catch a glimpse of Raikou’s bare back and Iruka’s rumpled and sopping wet form hauling him off the ground before the feed goes out.]
(OOC notes: Raikou’s words are in cerise and Iruka’s are in red. The dragon was a deadly nadder, btw.)
[If anyone had ever told Raikou that he would find himself sitting in a small oasis hidden amongst rocky foothills in the middle of the desert, he would have laughed at them. Yet here he sits, eyes heavy-lidded as he rests back comfortably against Iruka’s knees, his gamon propped against the stone beside Iruka, lulled near to sleep by the steady pressure of his friends fingers working a bright, neon-pink dye into his hair.
Just off to the side, there is a good sized fire crackling, an oddly-shaped lizard thing that Raikou really doesn’t want to think too closely on roasting above the flames, rice boiling in a pot beside it, their packs just beyond that, dropped neatly against a stone outcrop.
What can be seen of his eyes glitter in the evening light as russet eyes fix on the small waterfall and spring nestled back amongst the palm trees. He gives a contented little hum and slouches a bit more as his friend works.]
...Hey, Iruka? You think we’ll have any luck finding out about the fallen gods in this village? This is starting to feel like Mission Impossible.
Mission Insanity is a better term. Can’t really give you an answer to that.
[Fingers shift and proceeds to part more sections in the locks of hair that are now a smudge of crimson on gold, relaxed, slow lazy and mechanical movements - part, smudge, part, smudge, repeat and section once more.]
If your Lady isn’t sending you on a wild goose-chase, then we’re just going in circles. Still, I think we should keep looking. I don’t know about you, but you know I need to --
[Iruka’s hand stills completely in Raikou’s hair, shoulders stiffening and head shifting a little to the side, tilting upwards where a gust of wind billows and and brown eyes turn skyward. Frozen in a moment as instincts kicks in to gear, eyebrows narrowing for a moment --
-- the sudden shift in Iruka, the odd little kick of adrenaline that sparks to life in Raikou has the young samurai mimicking the other as he turns wary eyes up to the darkening sky. Just a moment of strained silence that has him reaching for his gamon, Iruka’s hands flying to his kunai holster.
Then a streaking flash of bluish-purple and an ear-splitting whistle as the trees before them burst into flames.
And neither of them is sure when the other moved, but in an instant Raikou finds himself clutching his gamon as he crouches behind a boulder, eyes wide, transfixed, on the creature lighting down across the clearing and Iruka digging out for smoke bombs, unaware that the Hitomi had fallen out of his pocket (much less that it is recording now that it has re-attached itself on Raikou’s belt) in the scramble as he hisses at Iruka.]
Are you kidding me - Senpai, is that a real fucking dragon?!
[Iruka doesn’t even get to answer because there’s another whistling noise and their backpacks, their supplies and everything else erupts in to flames. Iruka’s answer to Raikou’s question is a pink hand to scruff of his neck and hauling him away from the boulder, chakra charged feet leaping a good six feet away and protecting his charge and then a breathless and alarmed --]
Yes it’s a real fucking dragon! Run!
[Iruka doesn’t even wait because his hand is pushing Raikou towards the opposite direction again as dark smoke from a smoke bomb enshrouds their tracks momentarily because there’s another whistling noise and that sick, split-second realization that there was no way they were getting out of there like this. Smoke or not, that thing didn’t even need to move to attack and before there is a chance to get more than a few sprinted steps, the blast of hot air slams from behind, seconds before the first lick of flames.
Their first reactions is still to shift - Raikou, to turn and face his death rather that run, Iruka to throw an arm over his friend to protect him from the blast they can’t get away from. And in Raikou’s turning, he intentionally catches Iruka in the gut with his saya to throw him towards the water. Iruka doesn’t just stumble, he flies backwards form the impact of the explosion and the force of Raikou’s strength, nothing more than a desperate act in an impossible situation --]
Raikou!
[Because Raikou won’t be able to breath through the heat, not when Iruka’s hands are slamming in to seals and the water from the oasis rises to the shape of a dragon, the torrential force of the water cutting through the space above Iruka’s head, heading straight for Raikou where the flames had surrounded him. Where in his little burning form, the sudden chaotic spike of raw energy searing paths through him, crackle and scream as white-hot lightning cuts through the flames that engulfs Raikou, high voltage merging with the flow of Suiton: Suiryuudan and heading straight for the creature, slams right in to it.
It happens in seconds.
There is a shrill scream, and it might have been Iruka’s own voice at the sight of a friend engulfed in flames, or it might have been Raikou burning alive. But the scream cuts through the silence of the desert planes, as fire and electricity and water clashes against the raging creature, before everything just explodes. A rush of wind, another shrill cry of a beast and the flap of skin and scales before the shadow engulfed in flames and water and steam sinks to its knees and there is a loud dragging splash somewhere the Hitomi can’t see, tropical rain from the jutsu drenching the surrounding dry lands. Iruka’s form appears in a blurred flash beside the kneeling man hands on his shoulders, where pale skin and the shimmering lines of an unnatural tattoo gleams unmarred from beneath the ashen tatters of what is left of the samurai’s clothes.]
Raikou! Raikou! Oi!
[A cough, deep and hacking, as if gasping for breath before Raikou manages to look up at Iruka through matted bangs -- ]
S-senpai... you okay?
[-- that billows under the force of Iruka’s concerned yell.]
You were on fucking fire! And you look perfectly okay and fine! What the hell are you even asking? Are you crazy?
[There is a brush of hands on skin, and remains of the tatters of Raikou’s clothes shoved aside, as is the Hitomi, that tumbles a feet away, rolls around to catch a glimpse of Raikou’s bare back and Iruka’s rumpled and sopping wet form hauling him off the ground before the feed goes out.]
(OOC notes: Raikou’s words are in cerise and Iruka’s are in red. The dragon was a deadly nadder, btw.)