New Face in Town


11th Kazekage
Staff member
Oct 22, 2012
The smell of smoke was filling the area quite rapidly as the sound of the roaring fire seemed to encompass all other sounds in the immediate area. Those gathering around looked on in a mixture of curiosity, horror, amusement, wonder, and apathy. This may have seemed like an odd mixture, but this was a perfect embodiment of the Black Bazaar. It was a place built upon misery and misfortune, those that lived here weren't evil but evil did grow here. Some, heck maybe even most, that were trapped in this location were just spectators, or hostages, of the madness that seemed to have authority in this tiny portion of Sand.

This is why the current scene was unfolding; the burning of an establishment and the littering of broken bodies just outside of the said establishment. This building, what was conducted within it and who conducted it was no secret. This location, the Bottomless Pit, was on a surface level a "gentlemen's club" and on a deeper level a stopping point of the much larger human trafficking ring that seemed to be dug deep into Wind Country. The people here, male and female, that were brought in for "entertainment" were the ones unlucky, or lucky, enough to not qualify for "The Academy", which was more or less a human meat grinder. This specific stock was treated as well as one could treat a human slave, which was still an atrocity that could not be described. This place burning wasn't some job well done, just burning a building or beating up the employees of these types of places solved nothing, because in the hierarchy of this darkness these points were the ends of tendrils, branches. This was essentially cutting off the toe and expecting it to have the same impact of removing the head. It was frivolous. But that wasn't why this place was chosen. This was a test. This was a show. This was a showcase.

"Go on... you know... we will be back..."

"Up and running within weeks. I know. I know a lot about you, Fukushima Yoshihisa."


The fallen man would look up at the armor-clad figure before him who would continue with his recital.

"Yoshi for short, and because bullies used to make fun of his full name as an adolescent. From the streets of Soon's Haven, you were accepted into your gang, the 'Flesh Flayer', at the ripe age of 13. From then on you rose the ranks while your gang moved from angry adolescents to much darker crimes."

"Are you a cop... ANBU?!"

"ANBU... cop...? Yoshi, you and your Flayers, after the violence you were approached by an 'investor'. One that saw your group as a means to serve as an outlet for some of their excess 'merchandise'. On the outside, your gang toned down the violence."

The masked man would finally turn around, away from the burning building behind him. His hand, coated in a light armor plating as well, would clench tightly and release as if testing something, as he started to make his way towards the prone Yoshi. The glowing eyes, staring blankly down at the man.

"But the basement... you and your boys, you happened to use it for your... more 'darker' desires, correct?"

"Fuck... you... just do what you gotta do!"

"Resignation to your fate? I am sure there are some people, still breathing and some buried, that have reached the point at your hands... under your hands, correct?"

The masked man now stood next to Yoshi, towering over his lying body.

"Killing you, it's much like you say, won't get the result I want. Your death would be a blessing to those you've hurt, but to the grander game would only be the removal of a pawn. I could turn you in at the Obsidian Palace."

Though he wouldn't show it, Yoshi had hoped for this idea. Through all the muck and mire in this place, there were still heroes. Those that would apprehend someone like him, he would serve some time, and before long be back out. Hell, sometimes outsiders would come in and just let him out. It was cake.

"I could torture you for information..."

Yoshi very much let his face express that he was not a fan of that option.

"...but I would expend energy, energy that would not equate to the information that you'd give me. You don't know who your 'investor' is, you don't know where the people come from... you don't know anything. You, even though sitting at a different vantage point, are no different than the lives you peddle, Flesh Flayer. You are being used, you aren't in control, and you know that some day your use will run out. When that day comes, when your John is done you, you will either be left, used up to the point of worthless or your miserable existence would be snuffed out."

The gangster could not dismiss that such thoughts had not crept into his mind. Especially now, following the announcement of the Kazekage. The masked man was wrong, however, he did know his 'investor'.

"In that case, am I doing you a service if I just kill you now? Would that be merciful, would that be kind, of me?"

"No! Wait! I do know who is giving me the slaves!"

The masked man's head would tilt.

"Oh? Please, go on. I had not thought you'd be so forthright with me."

Was this his chance to get out of this with his life? Things had looked bleak for ole Yoshihisa just moments earlier, but now it seemed that things were going to turn out in his favor. Not only did he know who had arranged the original meeting, he knew who was pulling the strings behind that person. It was his insurance policy, a long-term trump card for the event his life was ever in jeopardy. He had done some of his own investigating not too long after their gang was approached, such a sweet deal couldn't just come without a catch. The catch, he would soon learn, was the power that was pulling the strings. Someone that could rock the foundations of the country. If worse came to worse, he had that bullet in his chamber to use. But first, go with the small fish.

"Oomori Z--"

"Oomori Zanku, a black market dealer."

"Yea, but I know something else. That man is in the pocket of Mako, Hisam---"

"You know that he is secret backed by Merchant Lord, Hisamaru Mako?"

The masked man's left arm would stretch downward and grasp the man by his color and slowly raise him up off the ground. This ascension would continue until the man, Yoshi, was placed right in front of the masked face of the figure before him.

"Was that rude of me? Did not mean to give you the impression I did not know this information already."

"Then what the hell do you want man!?"

There would be a faint chuckle behind the mask.

"To consume your spirit. To consume your soul... not like the rumors of those monsters lurking in the shadows, the Ancients. No, I want to devour you; your spirit, your pride, your business, your friends, your gang, everything that you hold dear... I want to sink my teeth into it and return it all to the nothingness that we come from. I want to break you. Break your friends over there... physically, of course, but emotionally, mentally, financially... I want to kill you in every way imaginable before that one truth death. I want to take you all the way to the edge... and then I want you to sit there. With nothing."

"So just kill me already!"

"I have."

He would then tap the side of his helmet like a mask with his free right hand. Suddenly a speaker would pop and the playback of the conversation between the two of them that just transpired.

"The tabloids will have a field day with this. Of course, the spin will keep Mako out of the fire... but you, the Flesh Flayers, the gang that dared to bring the upstanding Merchant Lord into their dirty little gossip... I couldn't imagine the sort of 'tricks' you will be asked to 'turn'."

"You monster!"

Yoshi, with the last bit of whatever fight he could muster, would expel a wad from his mouth, a collection of saliva and mucus, upon the mask of his captor.

"Hmmm... I might not be able to imagine it, but I believe you can."

The masked man would throttle the captured Yoshi causing the thug's eyes to widen, and within that moment he would be ensnared in the glare of the masked man. Even though he could just barely see the eyes behind the mask, he still could make them out enough for their magic to work. The subjugation of the weak, that is the gift of the power residing within him gave his glare.

A hellish vision, of what might happen to him once that tape was released to the general public, would be cast within the mind of Yoshimaru, one that would feel like it was taking an enternity, one that would replay several hundred times within the moment it took the masked man to release his grasp of the gang member and let his body to collapse back to the floor. From there, the screams of a mind left haunted would begin to escape from the throat of Yoshihisa. It would require several days before he calmed down, he would never fully escape the nightmare that had been implanted into his mind by the masked man, and he would be assassinated before he ever could, the work of those who had originally hired him. While it would not be noted, this would effectively be the end of the Flesh Flayers.

"Those of you looking on... take heed, I am an angry specter... an all-consuming fire that will be washing through these streets. I am not here to save you, I am here to hurt them. Hurt those that have sowed misery. To devour the darkness of this land. I am Gekido... pleasure meeting you all."

And with that, the figure would be engulfed in a purple flame, that would die out within a few moments revealing the masked figure, Gekido, was no longer present.

A new face was roaming the street.

-Topic left-


Well-Known Member
Oct 22, 2012
OOC Rank
Yatamaru had been working undercover for a few weeks, now, to get in good with this local criminal gang. He was tracking their movements, getting in good with the higher ups, and generally trying not to let them in on the fact that he was siphoning intelligence about their sources and their work. He'd only recently been able to find out that the Merchant Lord, Hisamaru Mako, was their main benefactor, and had intended to see where his connections might lead him. It had been a slow, methodical, process that, inevitably, had been torn down right in front of his eyes.

He had escaped the fires with the rest of them — they'd come without warning, a furious blaze of anger and vengeance that was unlike anything Yatamaru had seen before. He had witnessed the entire scene, disguised as one of the underlings of the organization, and saw first hand the brutality of this 'Gekido.' As a member of the ANBU Corps, Yatamaru should have been able to recognize just about any hidden persona that went bump in the night. But this face? He'd never seen this one before.

"Gekido the angry specter, huh? Devourer of souls and darkness..." he whispered under his breath. He took note of the man's appearance, how he acted, and what he did. There was a new player on the streets, and Yatamaru made it a point to know who was where. He would record the man's words, and the description of this brutally effective man, within a Crystal Drive.

Tabs would be kept. Though Yatamaru would not speak out, nor stop the scene in any way, he wanted to make sure his eyes and ears were open for any future developments of this sort of nature.

Topic Entered, Witnessed, and Left.
Not stopping Roku. Using Crystal Drive: Read/Write to record the interaction.
Approval: [Link]
CRPJ's Effect: By combining the rigid matrix of crystals and the flexible nature of chakra, Yatamaru has learned to make a portable, high-storage, chakra computing device. The crystal's natural piezoelectric properties, combined with precision chakra control, allows the user to manipulate data into and out of specialized Crystal Drives (CDs). Acts like a book of never-ending pages, allowing Yatamaru to store as much, or as little, information as he wants into each CD. Performing this technique does not require a conscious effort on Yatamaru's part — much like how his consciousness controls his puppet body by instinct, so too does it inscribe his thoughts into the CD once he begins the technique. Only text may be stored with this technique, as anything more complex would take too long to input, or output.
Reason why it cannot be used in battle: Does not have any offensive qualities. Could be used, but would only record the details of the fight for later review.