What!? Just a spar huh[Spar; NK]

Starting with the break of dawn and the first chirp of the blue jays which flew in the air around the field sora the young seven year old had decided to settle in. Many of the first happened at the time of the man opening his eyes. One had been the first wind to pass through the meadow along with the first flight of the day of petals which layed on the ground awaiting the wind to blow. As he raised up to see the sun at its glory, to see the orange sky and it's rim of yellow, and to see the flowers sway in awe of this. It had been a beautiful morning. One that was for told in the children stories and tall tales told through there years of life. Sora one of the children who had those privileges as a young child, at least in his younger days. Tweet tweet, as the different color variety of birds flew through the meadow. This had truely been a beautiful place to stay. What could make this even prettier than the bright color variety that the flowers gave, the sweet smell in the air that they gave off. Click, a mental picture was something that a human being would take to remember this view.

Sora, after looking at this great site, would be in awe on the inside, but on the outside he would keep that hard look he gained over the years. The hard look which had been engraved in his facial structure. Unlike an old person, who had the experience of war and felt the wounded heart of battle, Sora couldn't feel the experience of war. But this child had felt one thing, the Wounded heart of war. Losing his mother to that of ninja who had no care for who they killed. So what was his resolution to that, to kill those who had even a shread of thought to harm the things he cared about. Standing on his two feet and pushing up he stood tall over the few flowers which dwarved his leg. The winds curving round and round dancing with the flower petals. His eyes had still been half open to the world and still had no true view of the area. The red eyes which craved the power of life and many other things that defeated. With this large over two hundred meter meadow there had been more then enough room to train in the arts of his speed and his strength, his chakra and his will power, his health and his stamina. What more was there to train during nothing but peace. Or had it been that there was nothing that needed to be trained during the time of peace. As he would take slow steps through the meadow. Walking on top of the world. The stage had been set and the objective had been made. Without hesitating the boy would begin to jog. With both hands balded up and arms swinging back and forth as the young man's feet would start to crush the small flowers it pushed its weight on.

Running at that of a slow speed and not allowing for anything to come into his view. Not allowing anything to distract him from what he truely wanted. He had no time for the petty games the shinobi world had begun to play on him. What had the boy wanted most. 'If I want my life back in order. I've got to find him and her. My true loves.' he would think to himself as a vine which had taken its time to grow from the ground over the years of its trees birth, appeared and looped. Lopped back into the ground for its parents to feed it his food. What more could it have done other then trip sora Ametsuchi And laugh as he would face plant into the ground. As per usual Sora would growl and start to hit the ground. The thing that sora wanted most was to get up off the ground. Falling the day he heard of the truth of his mother's death. He fell and hit the ground so hard he changed from that boy who had everything and gave everyone everything. He wanted to make everyone happy and bring joy to the world. The boy who had begun to stand back up had still been on the ground. Why come to the conclusion that the world had to feel his pain for him to show exactly how he felt when his parents were learned to be murdered. No one truly knew how the boys mind worked except for himself.

As he would start running again through the field he wouldn't take a break from his new goal. Though he had begun to get tired and began to breathe heavily. As he had now begun to run instead of jogging this time. In a sense this had showen how aeon had been truly running from that incident. The day of the death. And the thoughts it brought back. Something that could have led to the true reason of his aggressive motions to the shinobi of his time. Each step he made crushed the hopes and dreams of the small things that laid there. Why was it so hard to accept the death of his parent at the age of seven and still had no need to take care of the child that they left behind, with his father being a drunk. His mysterious secret. His love left him and he had to use up the little he had to raise a bird child. Crunch, a noise the had been made as he crushed the bee which had only been searching for pollen to feed the other many plant life that had been crushed under the mans weight of his foot. His speed had slowly been increasing with the small run around the two hundred meter meadow. This had truly been a heart with problems. Sora began to watch the sky as he breath heavily hoping someone had decided to show up for some more fun. Sora had to take his mind off of things.

1032/8500

There was a dragon upon the altered field of friendliness here and that dragon's name was none other than Apostolos the experimental ninja experiment. Although he wasn't the first to be in this spot, his father having that right, he was one of the best candidates as his rights and goals were in place to be set for the filing of all of his friendly cabinets, or at least the ones in his mind. And to speak of friendliness, his visualization of friendliness wasn't so friendly, but more so something gruesome and underhanded like the death and destruction of those who opposed him, but that wasn't something very troll-tastic of him. But what would his dear guardian Troll do in this situation he wandered... Well, look at him look at him! His hands in the air like it would be good to be alive, as if he were a famous rapper even when the paths were all crookedy. He could have shown someone how to dossie do or even scratch a record. The man could take a remote control apart and almost put it back together! He could tie a knot in a cherry stem and even tell you about Leif Ericson! He knew all the words to a day colores and he was more than proud to be an american, but what did all of that state about the Troll that hid deep within the man that was lying more than dormant in his genetic coding? Hmm, these were the unsanswered questions that actually deserved attention, but what was Sir Trollington the Third at any rate? What could he do for anyone or anything and where did he come from? The only mortals in human history to ever draw upon extra dimensional power purposely knowing the risks were teh druids. The more time that elasped from the moment they stumbled upon the secret the stronger they grew and in the eleventh century they pulled free from the deepest bowels of the twelfth dimension something new and yet incredibly powerful. For Akisame to be spawned only three millinia before being drawn to the mortal plane he was powerful, enough to be revered by a few of the elder beings. Every creature in every dimension knew though, that to become what he was you had to work and warp and evolve past the rest. To start in the first, and move to the twelfth was something that took longer than most humans, dwellers of the third, could fathom, but once one reached the eighth he would remember his previous journey. the difference in the instance of 1012 was that none before had tried to make a jump so grave as from the third to the twelfth but this human did. He dared defy all that was natural order with his daftness and somehow succeeded. Akisame was left here unaging and with the physical look of the one who replaced him. He lacked the ability to die by normal human means and yet needed a way to live. In his time on earth Akisame had lived many human lives as lords and pesants, but he hadn't found his purpose until the late eighteen hundreds when a flood of truth washed over him; his memories. With his memories came his powers and with his powers came an understanding that he had to be one of the many to protect those who couldn't for themselves. Akisame took many years developing his powers, fuck with as many humans as possible in the name of good jesting, and take in the fashionability of the nineteenth century all in wait for a moment he felt coming from literal years away. All he need do then and until now was wait, hone himself mind body and spirit, and sit under his top hat in wait for the events that would lead up to his chance to repay every druid for their leaders mis hap and eventually retake his place upon his throne. But wait! Did that not make every ninja a druid in of one's self? Was he one of the things his clan was meant to hate indefinitely? Nah, ninja drew from chakra within themselves and gained more stature, yeah, that's right. He could never be something so lowly and undeserving of life as a filthy fucking druid. But that did bring him to his reasoning for being here at this day time moment and modicum of existence. Dammit, why was this still going on though? He had something he had to be doing right now... It was something of at least simi importance because he was still thinking about remembering what it was which drove him to to put more thought into remembering it which after a few more moments made it come to mind! He was here to fucking deal with the shitty ass consequence of his agreement to meet and train with a couple of people, but he couldn't remember for the life of him who they were. Apparently though it would take something called swagg to get him out of the situation that he was in and to get into the one where he "wanted" to be and to use said swagg he seemingly had to smack a bitch and whoop a trick or get a hoe in check with his pimp stick and while those all seemed like some what enjoyable tasks none seemed more important or nearly as fun as killing to get what he needed to get done done in the manner that he decided to. It took a death to create a life and so was the circle and to create a path in this life sometimes death was necessary again, but in this situation several deaths were created and maintained to ascertain a local surveilance route of the area he came from. In other words Apostolos left a trail of blood and bodies in his wake as he traveled to meet up with Sora and his Aburame buddy. Yeah, Training was what it was, training was what it would be he supposed. Well, he was here with what he had in mind ready to go. It was time to get going.

1032 Trolololol