03-17-2018, 08:23 PM
Bursting through the portal’s nebula of ionized gas at breakneck speeds, Sasuke Uchiha encountered an all too familiar breadth of heat upon his departure from the Nexus. Mountains of sand blotted the horizon and gave way to the oven baked winds of the verse, forcing the ninja to shield his eyes while he traveled. Something akin to the sweltering sensation of a thousand fire style jutsus being released at once caressed the shinobi’s skin, as he careened past a once desolate, now bustling way-station in the namesake of Carrefore.
Having heard many tales of the city during his reign as Hand to the King in Nippur, and a need to stretch his legs after such long slumber, the shinobi couldn’t resist the detour; even if for only a moment’s glance, at a rocket’s speed. The fact the city was well armed did not go unnoticed to the shinobi. If memory served him right, the Imperial presence had not been this strong previously, and though the guards did not delay the shinobi, with scans and macho posturing for authority, he was certain they took notice of his sighting. It was likely reports of the Dante’s Abyss Champion’s return would make it to the higher ranks of Coruscant. Images of shadowy figures far more sinister than the Sergeant Commander, Arnold Hammond flashed within shinobi’s mind.
“I see.” the shinobi smirked as the waystation became smaller and smaller against his backside, the ‘rock n roll’ tunes of Rick’s Café American all but gone now. “The Empire’s influence grows stronger.” Sasuke said on the move, his sandaled feet detonating eruptions of sand in their wake.
“Even here in the dunes,” the ninja breathed between strides, “that’s likely something I’ll have to contend with.” The thought gave the ninja pause to consider: Was that even his business anymore? Exactly how would the shinobi be received in Nippur? What of Gilgamesh? From what he had gathered from his research on the Dataverse, the city had been sacked, abandoned, and led to ruin in his absence. Contempt boiled to the tip of his throat as the shinobi dashed alongside newly constructed train tracks he’d never seen before.
It was an odd feeling, his involvement in New Babylon was a means to an end, a power to gain retribution, but the people of Nippur, and those who served it… they had depended on him. To them he, and those like him, meant a better life. He felt ashamed, having allowed such descent to befall the people of Nippur. Gritting his teeth, the ninja lowered his head, focused the strength in his legs, and surged forward, creating a vacuum funnel of sand behind him.
The road to Nippur was a long one, but Sasuke felt lighter than ever. His muscles rejoiced in their use and rewarded him with newfound vigor, culminating in a blazing pace of speed he’d never fully had access to. His muscles weren’t just waking up, they were yearning to be used. A fleeting, momentary sensation to holler, ‘Whooohooo!’ like that of the knucklehead, Naruto, came and went, leaving a cheesy grin on the shinobi’s face as he bounded dune after dune. The shinobi shook his head, allowing a chuckle to escape his diaphragm.
Town with No Name. It too seemed to have progressed in its development, however the militant environment of Carrefore was replaced, save for the center of town, with a more nefarious gathering of desperadoes. Only the center of town seemed fit for decent folk and there the tracks ended. The location had always intrigued the shinobi. For someone who knew not of the American Wild West, it was a phenomena, and the opportunity to explore its culture was poorly missed as the shinobi whirled past, leaving the town and the tracks behind.
Rocketing onwards, lizards, arachnids, and scarabs all scurried from under foot, trying to avoid being trampled by the Dante’s Abyss Champion as he made little work of traversing the Endless Dunes. Bounding difficult areas and sprinting others, the youth felt a vibration in his garments from the communicator and retrieved it, mid-bound.
“Looks like I got a hit already.” Sasuke said as he placed a finger to his inbox and read the e-mail, mid stride. A moment later, he had created a response, tucked the tech back into his garments, and furthered his goals, all without slowing his pace.
A blur of cobalt, the ninja passed a few settlements not sizable enough for recognition before encountering his first real trouble in the verse, and halted. The shinobi raised a hand to shield his eyes from the vicious bite of the mid-day sun, and peered across the terrain he had yet to travel. On the horizon, a violent sandstorm rolled in, threatening to swallow the shinobi’s way.
“It’s just up ahead,” the shinobi spoke to himself reluctantly, “right through all that bullshit.” Refusing to be thwarted, he pressed against a maelstrom of sand, cacti, and tumbleweed for several minutes, until the resistance grew too fierce. Stagnate, the shinobi bucked and thrashed against the sandstorm’s pressure to no avail. It seemed as though he would have to turn back after all, or at least, wait it out.
“Fuck this.” The shinobi mouthed from under protection of his garments. Suddenly, an aura of dark malevolence enveloped Sasuke, black flames danced across his skin, and a sinister tribal seared into it. With the curse mark active, the ninja shielded his face, bore into the storm with a newfound vigor, and located Nippur on the other side, several tens of minutes later. Exhausted, the shinobi plopped down on his haunches, caught his breath, and took in Nippur’s scenery. The curse mark dissipated from his skin as he spoke between breaths, “Home, sweet home.”
Having heard many tales of the city during his reign as Hand to the King in Nippur, and a need to stretch his legs after such long slumber, the shinobi couldn’t resist the detour; even if for only a moment’s glance, at a rocket’s speed. The fact the city was well armed did not go unnoticed to the shinobi. If memory served him right, the Imperial presence had not been this strong previously, and though the guards did not delay the shinobi, with scans and macho posturing for authority, he was certain they took notice of his sighting. It was likely reports of the Dante’s Abyss Champion’s return would make it to the higher ranks of Coruscant. Images of shadowy figures far more sinister than the Sergeant Commander, Arnold Hammond flashed within shinobi’s mind.
“I see.” the shinobi smirked as the waystation became smaller and smaller against his backside, the ‘rock n roll’ tunes of Rick’s Café American all but gone now. “The Empire’s influence grows stronger.” Sasuke said on the move, his sandaled feet detonating eruptions of sand in their wake.
“Even here in the dunes,” the ninja breathed between strides, “that’s likely something I’ll have to contend with.” The thought gave the ninja pause to consider: Was that even his business anymore? Exactly how would the shinobi be received in Nippur? What of Gilgamesh? From what he had gathered from his research on the Dataverse, the city had been sacked, abandoned, and led to ruin in his absence. Contempt boiled to the tip of his throat as the shinobi dashed alongside newly constructed train tracks he’d never seen before.
It was an odd feeling, his involvement in New Babylon was a means to an end, a power to gain retribution, but the people of Nippur, and those who served it… they had depended on him. To them he, and those like him, meant a better life. He felt ashamed, having allowed such descent to befall the people of Nippur. Gritting his teeth, the ninja lowered his head, focused the strength in his legs, and surged forward, creating a vacuum funnel of sand behind him.
The road to Nippur was a long one, but Sasuke felt lighter than ever. His muscles rejoiced in their use and rewarded him with newfound vigor, culminating in a blazing pace of speed he’d never fully had access to. His muscles weren’t just waking up, they were yearning to be used. A fleeting, momentary sensation to holler, ‘Whooohooo!’ like that of the knucklehead, Naruto, came and went, leaving a cheesy grin on the shinobi’s face as he bounded dune after dune. The shinobi shook his head, allowing a chuckle to escape his diaphragm.
Town with No Name. It too seemed to have progressed in its development, however the militant environment of Carrefore was replaced, save for the center of town, with a more nefarious gathering of desperadoes. Only the center of town seemed fit for decent folk and there the tracks ended. The location had always intrigued the shinobi. For someone who knew not of the American Wild West, it was a phenomena, and the opportunity to explore its culture was poorly missed as the shinobi whirled past, leaving the town and the tracks behind.
Rocketing onwards, lizards, arachnids, and scarabs all scurried from under foot, trying to avoid being trampled by the Dante’s Abyss Champion as he made little work of traversing the Endless Dunes. Bounding difficult areas and sprinting others, the youth felt a vibration in his garments from the communicator and retrieved it, mid-bound.
“Looks like I got a hit already.” Sasuke said as he placed a finger to his inbox and read the e-mail, mid stride. A moment later, he had created a response, tucked the tech back into his garments, and furthered his goals, all without slowing his pace.
A blur of cobalt, the ninja passed a few settlements not sizable enough for recognition before encountering his first real trouble in the verse, and halted. The shinobi raised a hand to shield his eyes from the vicious bite of the mid-day sun, and peered across the terrain he had yet to travel. On the horizon, a violent sandstorm rolled in, threatening to swallow the shinobi’s way.
“It’s just up ahead,” the shinobi spoke to himself reluctantly, “right through all that bullshit.” Refusing to be thwarted, he pressed against a maelstrom of sand, cacti, and tumbleweed for several minutes, until the resistance grew too fierce. Stagnate, the shinobi bucked and thrashed against the sandstorm’s pressure to no avail. It seemed as though he would have to turn back after all, or at least, wait it out.
“Fuck this.” The shinobi mouthed from under protection of his garments. Suddenly, an aura of dark malevolence enveloped Sasuke, black flames danced across his skin, and a sinister tribal seared into it. With the curse mark active, the ninja shielded his face, bore into the storm with a newfound vigor, and located Nippur on the other side, several tens of minutes later. Exhausted, the shinobi plopped down on his haunches, caught his breath, and took in Nippur’s scenery. The curse mark dissipated from his skin as he spoke between breaths, “Home, sweet home.”
Dante's Abyss 2015
GRAND CHAMPION
![[Image: Sasuke_DA_zpsb4vizgxd.png]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/02/07/Sasuke_DA_zpsb4vizgxd.png)
Mark Twain Wrote:"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."