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8-B Tournament Round 1 Match 4: Ashen One vs Gaara (Naruto)

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Ashen One, who walketh in soot and gloom.

A ragged breath, laboured from a scarred throat, torn and dried by the desert sands that filled his lungs. Spiraling, lacerating, storming within.

The Fire dims. The Age of Mankind is coming to an end.

Dark gray veins spotted the surface of his sclera. Eyes that could be sculpted from stone, as cracked, hard and flinty as they were, tiredly raised up above. to the burning sun far above. The sky glowed an eerie red, gradually darkening. A shadow threatened to overtake the sun, ash-ridden clouds crawling through the sky, as in reception to their new star.

Ashen One, save us.

The soft voice of the Oracle ebbed away as the vision did, and his eyes finally, truly opened. He sat up, coughing and spitting granules of sand as he stood up. He looked around, blinded by the sunlight and stunned by the dream he had. Was it a dream? He was unsure. The sun who was covered in darkness - the Fire that ended - the darkness that covered the world-

At least the feeling of sand and choking were real. He awakened in the desert, the comforting warmth of a bonfire nearby. Even in the hotness of the desert, the hearth the bonfire represented was more than mere heat - it was always a pleasurable sensation, it was always a sign of safety. Any moment far from a bonfire was a moment the world took upon itself to break him. Groaning, the Ashen One stood up. flexing his arms and legs, feeling his joints to creak. His fingers touched the side of his face, and when he looked at them, he saw a thin layer of ash caked into them.

He thought his life had ended after he defeated the Soul of Cinder. After all, he had... He had...

It was then he realized he didn't remember. What did he do after he defeated the Soul of Cinder? He remembered flashes, glimpses of what had been, what could've been, what maybe never was - the face of the Oracle, the death of the sun, he eternal awaiting for embers to once more spark in darkness. All of it true, all of it false. It was all forgotten in the lost mists of a time never experienced by anyone.

But he thought his task was over. Whether he truly died, given up to forgetfulness or was intentionally purged from memory, he didn't know. Perhaps he'd remember it all in due time. But judging from his dream, everything was far from over, and worse - he had to strengthen himself once again. The Fire, it seemed, had returned - but still it struggled to keep its might, and couldn't spend the energy required to spawn him as he once was, a powerful hero of a long-past age.

He turned his gaze to the horizon. Up ahead, after the dunes in the desert, there was a large, walled village. Village was undermining it, actually. It was large. Very, very large. Perhaps there he could be informed in the state of things, get some help and start working towards saving the Fire, whatever that might entail.

And thus, once again, the Ashen One set his journey.

(...)

- G-Gaara-san!

The boy turned his gaze towards the man that approached him and kneeled, cautious to not gather his rage. Gaara was known to be fickle and prone to anger - even if silent and not given to provide any clues about his emotions, his anger often had dire consequences. More than a dozen men had died attempting to strongarm him, and even more by not approaching him with sufficient care. This man - a chunin, Gaara thought - knew what to do. It was simple, really. Keep your distance, do not insult me with word or tone of voice, nor treat me like an incapable or savage monster. Why was it so hard for people to do so, he didn't understand - but they'd learn. They'd learn soon.

- What is it? - the boy asked, keeping his words curt and direct.

- A-a stranger is approaching our village. He looks strong, and he is unlike anything we have ever seen. The village elders h-have requested your help to d-deal with him.

- You mean, you want me to kill him? - Gaara asked.

- Only if it is necessary, otherwise, we'd like to bring him in alive. He might be innocent, but in the off-chance he is one of Them...

- ... I'll attend to your request.

The man did a reverence, grasping his hands together over his head.

- Thank-you, Gaara-san.

And, with that, the man soon disappeared, doubtlessly a substitution technique being used. Without changing his posture or even the way he looked at the horizon, the sand on his back reservoir sneaked around to his feet, lifting him in a cloud that slowly levitated a few meters into the air, before propelling itself at high speeds towards the direction he was informed the stranger was in.

In a few minutes, The man came into view, and Gaara took a glance at him. He reminded Gaara of the samurai from the Land of Iron. However, his armor was different even from theirs, and something about his skin called for Gaara's attention. Slowly, the genin took his sand cloud to the ground, gliding just above the ground, a few meters away from the armored man. The man stopped and looked at Gaara, seemingly unsure and tense.

- Who are you? - The Ashen One carefully put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Gaara didn't reply, instead analysing him.

What a strange man. He seemed to have just come out of a fire - no, not a fire, but the remains of a fiew. He smelled like smoke, his skin was dust-gray and carried vaguely rock-ish and dark dirt undertones. His hair, clothing and limbs seemed to have layers of soot. His weaponry and armoury all seemed burnt.

It seemed worth to take him into questioning.

- So? - The Ashen One prompted, attempting to get an answer out of Gaara. However, the genin merely replied:

- I am taking you with me. Don't resist.

- Wait... What? Why? - The Ashen One was taken aback, and arched his brow in confusion.

- There has been an influx of hostiles and strange happenings around, and your appearance here is equally strange. - Gaara explained. - Come with me without resisting, and spare me from having to deal with you.

- You are equally suspicious to me. - The Ashen One noted, tenser than before. - I don't intend to do any harm, and I've just got here for the first time. If you have such a problem with strangers, I can go somewhere else.

- ... People really only understand strength. Very well. - Gaara raised his hand, and sand raised from the ground, forming two long, slithery limbs. - I said that I wanted to bring you in. Not that you go away. Now, for the last time, follow me, or I'll beat sense into you.

- Now you've forced my hand at this. - Uttering a prayer to the sun, the Ashen One drew his blade, a long, beaten and worn steel sword. - Don't blame me for what is about to happen.
 
EliminatorVenom said:
Ashen One, who walketh in soot and gloom.

A ragged breath, laboured from a scarred throat, torn and dried by the desert sands that filled his lungs. Spiraling, lacerating, storming within.

The Fire dims. The Age of Mankind is coming to an end.

Dark gray veins spotted the surface of his sclera. Eyes that could be sculpted from stone, as cracked, hard and flinty as they were, tiredly raised up above. to the burning sun far above. The sky glowed an eerie red, gradually darkening. A shadow threatened to overtake the sun, ash-ridden clouds crawling through the sky, as in reception to their new star.

Ashen One, save us.

The soft voice of the Oracle ebbed away as the vision did, and his eyes finally, truly opened. He sat up, coughing and spitting granules of sand as he stood up. He looked around, blinded by the sunlight and stunned by the dream he had. Was it a dream? He was unsure. The sun who was covered in darkness - the Fire that ended - the darkness that covered the world-

At least the feeling of sand and choking were real. He awakened in the desert, the comforting warmth of a bonfire nearby. Even in the hotness of the desert, the hearth the bonfire represented was more than mere heat - it was always a pleasurable sensation, it was always a sign of safety. Any moment far from a bonfire was a moment the world took upon itself to break him. Groaning, the Ashen One stood up. flexing his arms and legs, feeling his joints to creak. His fingers touched the side of his face, and when he looked at them, he saw a thin layer of ash caked into them.

He thought his life had ended after he defeated the Soul of Cinder. After all, he had... He had...

It was then he realized he didn't remember. What did he do after he defeated the Soul of Cinder? He remembered flashes, glimpses of what had been, what could've been, what maybe never was - the face of the Oracle, the death of the sun, he eternal awaiting for embers to once more spark in darkness. All of it true, all of it false. It was all forgotten in the lost mists of a time never experienced by anyone.

But he thought his task was over. Whether he truly died, given up to forgetfulness or was intentionally purged from memory, he didn't know. Perhaps he'd remember it all in due time. But judging from his dream, everything was far from over, and worse - he had to strengthen himself once again. The Fire, it seemed, had returned - but still it struggled to keep its might, and couldn't spend the energy required to spawn him as he once was, a powerful hero of a long-past age.

He turned his gaze to the horizon. Up ahead, after the dunes in the desert, there was a large, walled village. Village was undermining it, actually. It was large. Very, very large. Perhaps there he could be informed in the state of things, get some help and start working towards saving the Fire, whatever that might entail.

And thus, once again, the Ashen One set his journey.

(...)

- G-Gaara-san!

The boy turned his gaze towards the man that approached him and kneeled, cautious to not gather his rage. Gaara was known to be fickle and prone to anger - even if silent and not given to provide any clues about his emotions, his anger often had dire consequences. More than a dozen men had died attempting to strongarm him, and even more by not approaching him with sufficient care. This man - a chunin, Gaara thought - knew what to do. It was simple, really. Keep your distance, do not insult me with word or tone of voice, nor treat me like an incapable or savage monster. Why was it so hard for people to do so, he didn't understand - but they'd learn. They'd learn soon.

- What is it? - the boy asked, keeping his words curt and direct.

- A-a stranger is approaching our village. He looks strong, and he is unlike anything we have ever seen. The village elders h-have requested your help to d-deal with him.

- You mean, you want me to kill him? - Gaara asked.

- Only if it is necessary, otherwise, we'd like to bring him in alive. He might be innocent, but in the off-chance he is one of Them...

- ... I'll attend to your request.

The man did a reverence, grasping his hands together over his head.

- Thank-you, Gaara-san.

And, with that, the man soon disappeared, doubtlessly a substitution technique being used. Without changing his posture or even the way he looked at the horizon, the sand on his back reservoir sneaked around to his feet, lifting him in a cloud that slowly levitated a few meters into the air, before propelling itself at high speeds towards the direction he was informed the stranger was in.

In a few minutes, The man came into view, and Gaara took a glance at him. He reminded Gaara of the samurai from the Land of Iron. However, his armor was different even from theirs, and something about his skin called for Gaara's attention. Slowly, the genin took his sand cloud to the ground, gliding just above the ground, a few meters away from the armored man. The man stopped and looked at Gaara, seemingly unsure and tense.

- Who are you? - The Ashen One carefully put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Gaara didn't reply, instead analysing him.

What a strange man. He seemed to have just come out of a fire - no, not a fire, but the remains of a fiew. He smelled like smoke, his skin was dust-gray and carried vaguely rock-ish and dark dirt undertones. His hair, clothing and limbs seemed to have layers of soot. His weaponry and armoury all seemed burnt.

It seemed worth to take him into questioning.

- So? - The Ashen One prompted, attempting to get an answer out of Gaara. However, the genin merely replied:

- I am taking you with me. Don't resist.

- Wait... What? Why? - The Ashen One was taken aback, and arched his brow in confusion.

- There has been an influx of hostiles and strange happenings around, and your appearance here is equally strange. - Gaara explained. - Come with me without resisting, and spare me from having to deal with you.

- You are equally suspicious to me. - The Ashen One noted, tenser than before. - I don't intend to do any harm, and I've just got here for the first time. If you have such a problem with strangers, I can go somewhere else.

- ... People really only understand strength. Very well. - Gaara raised his hand, and sand raised from the ground, forming two long, slithery limbs. - I said that I wanted to bring you in. Not that you go away. Now, for the last time, follow me, or I'll beat sense into you.

- Now you've forced my hand at this. - Uttering a prayer to the sun, the Ashen One drew his blade, a long, beaten and worn steel sword. - Don't blame me for what is about to happen.
Click to expand...
Great story!

Question: Why did Ashen defeat Soul of Cinder? He's the one using him.
 
EliminatorVenom said:
Ashen One, who walketh in soot and gloom.

A ragged breath, laboured from a scarred throat, torn and dried by the desert sands that filled his lungs. Spiraling, lacerating, storming within.

The Fire dims. The Age of Mankind is coming to an end.

Dark gray veins spotted the surface of his sclera. Eyes that could be sculpted from stone, as cracked, hard and flinty as they were, tiredly raised up above. to the burning sun far above. The sky glowed an eerie red, gradually darkening. A shadow threatened to overtake the sun, ash-ridden clouds crawling through the sky, as in reception to their new star.

Ashen One, save us.

The soft voice of the Oracle ebbed away as the vision did, and his eyes finally, truly opened. He sat up, coughing and spitting granules of sand as he stood up. He looked around, blinded by the sunlight and stunned by the dream he had. Was it a dream? He was unsure. The sun who was covered in darkness - the Fire that ended - the darkness that covered the world-

At least the feeling of sand and choking were real. He awakened in the desert, the comforting warmth of a bonfire nearby. Even in the hotness of the desert, the hearth the bonfire represented was more than mere heat - it was always a pleasurable sensation, it was always a sign of safety. Any moment far from a bonfire was a moment the world took upon itself to break him. Groaning, the Ashen One stood up. flexing his arms and legs, feeling his joints to creak. His fingers touched the side of his face, and when he looked at them, he saw a thin layer of ash caked into them.

He thought his life had ended after he defeated the Soul of Cinder. After all, he had... He had...

It was then he realized he didn't remember. What did he do after he defeated the Soul of Cinder? He remembered flashes, glimpses of what had been, what could've been, what maybe never was - the face of the Oracle, the death of the sun, he eternal awaiting for embers to once more spark in darkness. All of it true, all of it false. It was all forgotten in the lost mists of a time never experienced by anyone.

But he thought his task was over. Whether he truly died, given up to forgetfulness or was intentionally purged from memory, he didn't know. Perhaps he'd remember it all in due time. But judging from his dream, everything was far from over, and worse - he had to strengthen himself once again. The Fire, it seemed, had returned - but still it struggled to keep its might, and couldn't spend the energy required to spawn him as he once was, a powerful hero of a long-past age.

He turned his gaze to the horizon. Up ahead, after the dunes in the desert, there was a large, walled village. Village was undermining it, actually. It was large. Very, very large. Perhaps there he could be informed in the state of things, get some help and start working towards saving the Fire, whatever that might entail.

And thus, once again, the Ashen One set his journey.

(...)

- G-Gaara-san!

The boy turned his gaze towards the man that approached him and kneeled, cautious to not gather his rage. Gaara was known to be fickle and prone to anger - even if silent and not given to provide any clues about his emotions, his anger often had dire consequences. More than a dozen men had died attempting to strongarm him, and even more by not approaching him with sufficient care. This man - a chunin, Gaara thought - knew what to do. It was simple, really. Keep your distance, do not insult me with word or tone of voice, nor treat me like an incapable or savage monster. Why was it so hard for people to do so, he didn't understand - but they'd learn. They'd learn soon.

- What is it? - the boy asked, keeping his words curt and direct.

- A-a stranger is approaching our village. He looks strong, and he is unlike anything we have ever seen. The village elders h-have requested your help to d-deal with him.

- You mean, you want me to kill him? - Gaara asked.

- Only if it is necessary, otherwise, we'd like to bring him in alive. He might be innocent, but in the off-chance he is one of Them...

- ... I'll attend to your request.

The man did a reverence, grasping his hands together over his head.

- Thank-you, Gaara-san.

And, with that, the man soon disappeared, doubtlessly a substitution technique being used. Without changing his posture or even the way he looked at the horizon, the sand on his back reservoir sneaked around to his feet, lifting him in a cloud that slowly levitated a few meters into the air, before propelling itself at high speeds towards the direction he was informed the stranger was in.

In a few minutes, The man came into view, and Gaara took a glance at him. He reminded Gaara of the samurai from the Land of Iron. However, his armor was different even from theirs, and something about his skin called for Gaara's attention. Slowly, the genin took his sand cloud to the ground, gliding just above the ground, a few meters away from the armored man. The man stopped and looked at Gaara, seemingly unsure and tense.

- Who are you? - The Ashen One carefully put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Gaara didn't reply, instead analysing him.

What a strange man. He seemed to have just come out of a fire - no, not a fire, but the remains of a fiew. He smelled like smoke, his skin was dust-gray and carried vaguely rock-ish and dark dirt undertones. His hair, clothing and limbs seemed to have layers of soot. His weaponry and armoury all seemed burnt.

It seemed worth to take him into questioning.

- So? - The Ashen One prompted, attempting to get an answer out of Gaara. However, the genin merely replied:

- I am taking you with me. Don't resist.

- Wait... What? Why? - The Ashen One was taken aback, and arched his brow in confusion.

- There has been an influx of hostiles and strange happenings around, and your appearance here is equally strange. - Gaara explained. - Come with me without resisting, and spare me from having to deal with you.

- You are equally suspicious to me. - The Ashen One noted, tenser than before. - I don't intend to do any harm, and I've just got here for the first time. If you have such a problem with strangers, I can go somewhere else.

- ... People really only understand strength. Very well. - Gaara raised his hand, and sand raised from the ground, forming two long, slithery limbs. - I said that I wanted to bring you in. Not that you go away. Now, for the last time, follow me, or I'll beat sense into you.

- Now you've forced my hand at this. - Uttering a prayer to the sun, the Ashen One drew his blade, a long, beaten and worn steel sword. - Don't blame me for what is about to happen.
Click to expand...
Ok, you get me chills in my spine with this one
 
EliminatorVenom said:
Ashen One, who walketh in soot and gloom.

A ragged breath, laboured from a scarred throat, torn and dried by the desert sands that filled his lungs. Spiraling, lacerating, storming within.

The Fire dims. The Age of Mankind is coming to an end.

Dark gray veins spotted the surface of his sclera. Eyes that could be sculpted from stone, as cracked, hard and flinty as they were, tiredly raised up above. to the burning sun far above. The sky glowed an eerie red, gradually darkening. A shadow threatened to overtake the sun, ash-ridden clouds crawling through the sky, as in reception to their new star.

Ashen One, save us.

The soft voice of the Oracle ebbed away as the vision did, and his eyes finally, truly opened. He sat up, coughing and spitting granules of sand as he stood up. He looked around, blinded by the sunlight and stunned by the dream he had. Was it a dream? He was unsure. The sun who was covered in darkness - the Fire that ended - the darkness that covered the world-

At least the feeling of sand and choking were real. He awakened in the desert, the comforting warmth of a bonfire nearby. Even in the hotness of the desert, the hearth the bonfire represented was more than mere heat - it was always a pleasurable sensation, it was always a sign of safety. Any moment far from a bonfire was a moment the world took upon itself to break him. Groaning, the Ashen One stood up. flexing his arms and legs, feeling his joints to creak. His fingers touched the side of his face, and when he looked at them, he saw a thin layer of ash caked into them.

He thought his life had ended after he defeated the Soul of Cinder. After all, he had... He had...

It was then he realized he didn't remember. What did he do after he defeated the Soul of Cinder? He remembered flashes, glimpses of what had been, what could've been, what maybe never was - the face of the Oracle, the death of the sun, he eternal awaiting for embers to once more spark in darkness. All of it true, all of it false. It was all forgotten in the lost mists of a time never experienced by anyone.

But he thought his task was over. Whether he truly died, given up to forgetfulness or was intentionally purged from memory, he didn't know. Perhaps he'd remember it all in due time. But judging from his dream, everything was far from over, and worse - he had to strengthen himself once again. The Fire, it seemed, had returned - but still it struggled to keep its might, and couldn't spend the energy required to spawn him as he once was, a powerful hero of a long-past age.

He turned his gaze to the horizon. Up ahead, after the dunes in the desert, there was a large, walled village. Village was undermining it, actually. It was large. Very, very large. Perhaps there he could be informed in the state of things, get some help and start working towards saving the Fire, whatever that might entail.

And thus, once again, the Ashen One set his journey.

(...)

- G-Gaara-san!

The boy turned his gaze towards the man that approached him and kneeled, cautious to not gather his rage. Gaara was known to be fickle and prone to anger - even if silent and not given to provide any clues about his emotions, his anger often had dire consequences. More than a dozen men had died attempting to strongarm him, and even more by not approaching him with sufficient care. This man - a chunin, Gaara thought - knew what to do. It was simple, really. Keep your distance, do not insult me with word or tone of voice, nor treat me like an incapable or savage monster. Why was it so hard for people to do so, he didn't understand - but they'd learn. They'd learn soon.

- What is it? - the boy asked, keeping his words curt and direct.

- A-a stranger is approaching our village. He looks strong, and he is unlike anything we have ever seen. The village elders h-have requested your help to d-deal with him.

- You mean, you want me to kill him? - Gaara asked.

- Only if it is necessary, otherwise, we'd like to bring him in alive. He might be innocent, but in the off-chance he is one of Them...

- ... I'll attend to your request.

The man did a reverence, grasping his hands together over his head.

- Thank-you, Gaara-san.

And, with that, the man soon disappeared, doubtlessly a substitution technique being used. Without changing his posture or even the way he looked at the horizon, the sand on his back reservoir sneaked around to his feet, lifting him in a cloud that slowly levitated a few meters into the air, before propelling itself at high speeds towards the direction he was informed the stranger was in.

In a few minutes, The man came into view, and Gaara took a glance at him. He reminded Gaara of the samurai from the Land of Iron. However, his armor was different even from theirs, and something about his skin called for Gaara's attention. Slowly, the genin took his sand cloud to the ground, gliding just above the ground, a few meters away from the armored man. The man stopped and looked at Gaara, seemingly unsure and tense.

- Who are you? - The Ashen One carefully put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Gaara didn't reply, instead analysing him.

What a strange man. He seemed to have just come out of a fire - no, not a fire, but the remains of a fiew. He smelled like smoke, his skin was dust-gray and carried vaguely rock-ish and dark dirt undertones. His hair, clothing and limbs seemed to have layers of soot. His weaponry and armoury all seemed burnt.

It seemed worth to take him into questioning.

- So? - The Ashen One prompted, attempting to get an answer out of Gaara. However, the genin merely replied:

- I am taking you with me. Don't resist.

- Wait... What? Why? - The Ashen One was taken aback, and arched his brow in confusion.

- There has been an influx of hostiles and strange happenings around, and your appearance here is equally strange. - Gaara explained. - Come with me without resisting, and spare me from having to deal with you.

- You are equally suspicious to me. - The Ashen One noted, tenser than before. - I don't intend to do any harm, and I've just got here for the first time. If you have such a problem with strangers, I can go somewhere else.

- ... People really only understand strength. Very well. - Gaara raised his hand, and sand raised from the ground, forming two long, slithery limbs. - I said that I wanted to bring you in. Not that you go away. Now, for the last time, follow me, or I'll beat sense into you.

- Now you've forced my hand at this. - Uttering a prayer to the sun, the Ashen One drew his blade, a long, beaten and worn steel sword. - Don't blame me for what is about to happen.
Click to expand...
That shit was as lit as the First Flame itself.
 
RandomGuy2345 said:
I don't really see the point in that...
Click to expand...
I usually do it for all the Threads I write stories for and I've seen other people like SamanPatou do it too. I just think it would neat to see how the characters fighting get their closure. Do they kill each other? Knock each other out and the winner leaves? Or do they come to some form of understanding of one another? I like seeing Character Interaction.
 
XSOULOFCINDERX said:
I usually do it for all the Threads I write stories for and I've seen other people like SamanPatou do it too. I just think it would neat to see how the characters fighting get their closure. Do they kill each other? Knock each other out and the winner leaves? Or do they come to some form of understanding of one another? I like seeing Character Interaction.
Click to expand...
That seems as good option ngl
 
XSOULOFCINDERX said:
I usually do it for all the Threads I write stories for and I've seen other people like SamanPatou do it too. I just think it would neat to see how the characters fighting get their closure. Do they kill each other? Knock each other out and the winner leaves? Or do they come to some form of understanding of one another? I like seeing Character Interaction.
Click to expand...
That actually seems cool now that you elaborated on it...

If you want to do that, then be my guess, though, idk if you want to do it for all the battles.
 
XSOULOFCINDERX said:
I usually do it for all the Threads I write stories for and I've seen other people like SamanPatou do it too. I just think it would neat to see how the characters fighting get their closure. Do they kill each other? Knock each other out and the winner leaves? Or do they come to some form of understanding of one another? I like seeing Character Interaction.
Click to expand...
the conclusion was mostly in the nex story, like how the Steve vs niad(forgot her name) has in the optimus prime battle
 
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