11-14-2014, 12:00 AM
He talked about everything. Where he came from, what he did as the leader of the Manji Ryu, all his glorious exploits, what his world was like, the teachings of Buddha and all his virtues. The sun was high in the sky, the clouds were thick and white. At least they had been. By the time Yoshimitsu had talked himself until even he was bored, the moon was looming overhead, the sky was dark and the clouds were dirty gray. The castle no longer looked like a small toy set off in the distance, it now lay perhaps five miles from where the two travelers decided to break momentarily.
Poor little blue dinosaur was pooped. He plopped down under a tree as they still traveled through the forest. Yoshimitsu gently dismounted his companion and looked down at it, mask blank. The dragon looked up and made some strange noise that sounded like a child's toy having its squeaky lungs crushed with all your might. “Is that so?” The warrior asked in sympathy. Yoshi nodded and laid its head back down on the forest floor. Its mouth opened to allow its tongue to roll out, exaggerating just how tired he really was. “Aha...” Yoshimitsu chuckled and sat down in the lotus position. He planted his hands on his knees and exhaled very deeply. The beast had done its job well and listened to him for hours. At first he found it to be a terribly sinful abomination that should have stayed in the virtual world. Now he had the utmost respect for his new friend. The spirit of Yoshi would live on...
...In his stomach.
A small fire later, a swift decapitation and fabrication and Yoshimitsu was eating the dragon of childhood fancy. It tasted like whimsy and komodo dragon.
With a full stomach, Yoshimitsu could just lie back for the night and continue on in the morning. However it seemed fate was not a fan of that idea. In the distance he could plainly hear the clumsy footsteps of two men. In a flash the ninja hid himself in the tree he camped under. Crouched on a branch, hand on his katana, eyes watching vigilantly in the direction of the noise. He didn't know what kind of people inhabited this area aside from delicious dragons. As a master of the deceptive arts and holder of the title of shinobi, he would be highly embarrassed if someone got the drop on him. Instead he planned on being the one doing the dropping.
“The fire's still burning,” noted one of the voices, “whoever made it has to be close.” His iridescent eyes watched as the two poked around his small camp. He needed to be absolutely quiet. Stealthy. Unnoticeable. It was how a ninja would behave. All his training latched onto his reflexes and kept him on his toes.
“Well hopefully our camper isn't one of those insane Primes who like killing everything with a pulse...” The second man seemed a bit more scared than his partner. “If we're lucky, maybe he's one of the good ones that'll help us out.” Curious. These men didn't seem like evildoers. Perhaps this may be karma presenting itself for Yoshimitsu to do some good. In turn it might do him good later on in his journey. He had supposed that reaching the giant castle was just a step in his journey. Had he truly forgotten that life wasn't about the destination, but the journeys along the way? Ah, and he had spent so much time blathering about Buddha's teachings to his companion/meal. Embarrassing!
“Yoshimitsu the Most Excellent at your service!” He dropped from the tree, landing on one foot, other leg raised with hands in a defensive stance. Classic Yoshimitsu. However no one was in front of him. Just his fire and the tracks of two trespassers through his camp. The two had moved ahead. His intro was ruined. Classic Yoshimitsu.
After stamping out his flames and making sure it was dead, the warrior tightened his gear and ran off in the direction of the two scouts. They hadn't gotten too far ahead, apparently just enough to not hear Yoshimitsu enter the scene. Traipsing quietly, our intrepid hero front flipped in front of the men, landing once more in his trademark pose.
“Yoshimitsu the Most Excellent at your service!” He stated once more, the gleaming eyes from his mask watching their reactions intently. One was an archer by the arm guard and gloves. He didn't seem to be carrying the weapon at the moment, instead a small dagger rested in his belt. This one seemed to be the lead as his hand rest on the handle of the blade. The other had an actual sword at his side, body language surprised but not defensive. Clearly the follower.
They stood there in silence. Yoshimitsu got a cramp in his leg. God damnit, quake in fear already! They continued staring. Fine. They won. He put his leg down and stood like a normal human being. Boring, stiff, awkward. In turn the two relaxed and crossed their arms. “Keep your hands off your weapons and we'll keep our hands off ours,” Demanded the lead scout, lifting his hands and making the polite offer, “Are you looking to go to Minas Tirith? We could escort you.”
Poor little blue dinosaur was pooped. He plopped down under a tree as they still traveled through the forest. Yoshimitsu gently dismounted his companion and looked down at it, mask blank. The dragon looked up and made some strange noise that sounded like a child's toy having its squeaky lungs crushed with all your might. “Is that so?” The warrior asked in sympathy. Yoshi nodded and laid its head back down on the forest floor. Its mouth opened to allow its tongue to roll out, exaggerating just how tired he really was. “Aha...” Yoshimitsu chuckled and sat down in the lotus position. He planted his hands on his knees and exhaled very deeply. The beast had done its job well and listened to him for hours. At first he found it to be a terribly sinful abomination that should have stayed in the virtual world. Now he had the utmost respect for his new friend. The spirit of Yoshi would live on...
...In his stomach.
A small fire later, a swift decapitation and fabrication and Yoshimitsu was eating the dragon of childhood fancy. It tasted like whimsy and komodo dragon.
With a full stomach, Yoshimitsu could just lie back for the night and continue on in the morning. However it seemed fate was not a fan of that idea. In the distance he could plainly hear the clumsy footsteps of two men. In a flash the ninja hid himself in the tree he camped under. Crouched on a branch, hand on his katana, eyes watching vigilantly in the direction of the noise. He didn't know what kind of people inhabited this area aside from delicious dragons. As a master of the deceptive arts and holder of the title of shinobi, he would be highly embarrassed if someone got the drop on him. Instead he planned on being the one doing the dropping.
“The fire's still burning,” noted one of the voices, “whoever made it has to be close.” His iridescent eyes watched as the two poked around his small camp. He needed to be absolutely quiet. Stealthy. Unnoticeable. It was how a ninja would behave. All his training latched onto his reflexes and kept him on his toes.
“Well hopefully our camper isn't one of those insane Primes who like killing everything with a pulse...” The second man seemed a bit more scared than his partner. “If we're lucky, maybe he's one of the good ones that'll help us out.” Curious. These men didn't seem like evildoers. Perhaps this may be karma presenting itself for Yoshimitsu to do some good. In turn it might do him good later on in his journey. He had supposed that reaching the giant castle was just a step in his journey. Had he truly forgotten that life wasn't about the destination, but the journeys along the way? Ah, and he had spent so much time blathering about Buddha's teachings to his companion/meal. Embarrassing!
“Yoshimitsu the Most Excellent at your service!” He dropped from the tree, landing on one foot, other leg raised with hands in a defensive stance. Classic Yoshimitsu. However no one was in front of him. Just his fire and the tracks of two trespassers through his camp. The two had moved ahead. His intro was ruined. Classic Yoshimitsu.
After stamping out his flames and making sure it was dead, the warrior tightened his gear and ran off in the direction of the two scouts. They hadn't gotten too far ahead, apparently just enough to not hear Yoshimitsu enter the scene. Traipsing quietly, our intrepid hero front flipped in front of the men, landing once more in his trademark pose.
“Yoshimitsu the Most Excellent at your service!” He stated once more, the gleaming eyes from his mask watching their reactions intently. One was an archer by the arm guard and gloves. He didn't seem to be carrying the weapon at the moment, instead a small dagger rested in his belt. This one seemed to be the lead as his hand rest on the handle of the blade. The other had an actual sword at his side, body language surprised but not defensive. Clearly the follower.
They stood there in silence. Yoshimitsu got a cramp in his leg. God damnit, quake in fear already! They continued staring. Fine. They won. He put his leg down and stood like a normal human being. Boring, stiff, awkward. In turn the two relaxed and crossed their arms. “Keep your hands off your weapons and we'll keep our hands off ours,” Demanded the lead scout, lifting his hands and making the polite offer, “Are you looking to go to Minas Tirith? We could escort you.”