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Nickname: EvilPopTart
User Group: User
Statistics: Topics 20 ｜Posts 63

ACTIVITY: Registered: 2017-07-24 19:19:24; Last Login: 2020-09-30 11:18:22; Last Post: 2020-02-25 22:03:40

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[Fanfiction] Clothing release celebration
"
FF Story It was the first day of the Oasis games when the first precursors to trouble became obvious. Whatever the case, three dozen athletes marched forward under the sweltering heat. Of course, almost all of them were clones. Trouble began when the bloodhound of the football team, the legendary footballer Midnight Blade smelt water in the air, sinking his teeth into a gymnast doing stretches on a mat next to him. The gymnast then exploded, tagging the football player as six other clones lined up with batons, ribbons, and the occasional kunai. Midnight was not fast enough to escape the wrath of the clones, one of whom was able to skewer him with a well aimed punch to the stomach, destroying his legendary root of warrior, and leaving him unprotected against the wave of whips. Upon noticing their teammate (and creator), the lightning clones dashed into battle, kicking foot* upon the crowd of gymnasts, the barrage was overwhelming, for there were two lightning clones for every water clone. It went well, right until a cheerful voice called across the din, casting a bright green light upon the exausted gymnasts, all of whom seemed to remember their routines. With a cry of war, the lead gymnast hauled Midnight to his feet, forcing him to dance to their rhythm, each freshly revitalized clone vicious with her whip as the Midnight clones did their best to fire upon their foes. Sadly, Midnight lacked debuffs, as he was under chaos from the dozen or so critical hits he had suffered. Upon his release minutes later, a bloody, battered Midnight rushed from the crowd with the speed of a man under chaos, slipping on the remains of a water clone as he drunkenly danced around his own confused clones as his target became openly clear. He was charging at the goal-posts! High above, the administrators watched in awe as he came home, firing a mighty shot that tore one of his clones in half. As one, the crowd cheered. Well, the laugh track cheered. But mainly because the shot had gone out, striking a man who looked far too much like a girl over the head. Slumped onto his knees, Midnight tore his shirt away, causing gasps at his not-so ideal physique (being pale and skinny), then ended his turn. Then the poison came along. With a scream of agony, blood spurted out of Midnight’s mouth as he fell backwards, his clones shaking their heads in disbelief as they *ed out of existence. “Remind me why we chose this location again?” One of the administrators asked a colleague, munching on a ice cream cone. “Safer than the backup. And free healthcare.” Came the reply, behind yet another ice cream. Down below, three Anbu grunts carried Midnight away, ready to ship him to the local hospital. Somehow, by the time they they had arrived, the football player had been dressed in the leotard of the clone he had eaten, much to the amu*t of the media outside. “Biggest Scandal since Madara!” The Konoha Times declared the next day, proudly displaying the prone form of Midnight, forced into a outfit two sizes too small and foaming at the mouth. ... Meanwhile, back with the pitcher hit by an errant football. Scarlet Blaze was not amused when a spotted missile literally flew out of left field and struck him across the head. Staggering to get off the ground, he found no less than six of his clones standing over with him, their faces plastered with confusion and amu*t. Wait. He made twelve clones! Where were the other six? Staggering to his feet, he snarled as he turned about, his face scanning the field around him. To the left was the set of gymnasts doing the splits. Boring. He thought to himself, growling at the titanic form of the man who stood before him, shooting hoops alone. He found his gaze fixed upon the slender forms of a dozen girls to his right, his eyes unable to leave as one of the beautiful girls fired a rapid missile Into the face of one of his missing clones. “Oh. That’s where they went.” Scarlet said to himself as the clone assassinated via volleyball turned to dust. With a shout, Scarlet marched forward, ready to give the girls a piece of his mind. It was not a long walk. Barring the lag spike that froze him in place, forced to watch as another clone ate a missile of death in slow motion. Thus, Scarlet stood with three of his clones along the hard court, in bitter contrast to the soft turf he had spent his career on. He tapped one of the girls on the shoulder, which annoyed him, for he was pretty short. Blankly, the girl looked back at him, high cheekbones and bright blue eyes and all. “Oh, we were just coming to fetch the rest of you. Thank you for volunteering.” Scarlet growled as he pointed a finger in the face of the confused girl. “Get her!” The air was silent for a moment, except for a distant basketball, a obscure laugh track, and the humming of the AC. Scarlet glanced at the clone at his left, then at his right. Both were mysteriously gone. Scarlet glanced back at the baseball diamond, and found the blank stares of six clones, still gawking blindly at the beautiful form of the volleyball player. And then his last clone fell, his head torn neatly off his orboro shoulders. Scarlet glanced back at the girl, who now held him with an iron grip. With a scream, Scarlet found himself forced to kneel where his clones once had, his eyes unblinking as a powerful serve flew at him. It was really hard. Like clone killing hard. “Huh,” he heard a voice say, amused. “Either I’m growing tired or this clone is tougher than the other ones.” “Test it out.” The voice ordered as Scarlet heard the shifting of sand. … Breeze Dancer sighed as she took a sip of her water, fresh after perfecting her Rasengan serve. It was a beautiful day, expect for some reason the clone had begun bleeding on the sand. That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it? “Can we get a doctor here?” She called out over the humming air conditioning, meeting the stares of perhaps a dozen blank faces across the arena, some of which were her own shadow clones. “I suppose not.” Breeze muttered as she tossed the volleyball in the air again, ready now to test her spike. … “Nobody likes Scarlet anyways.” Administrator One chuckled as a intern opened the door. “You have no idea where I had to go to find instant ramen.” “Tell us. We are at an interlude anyways.” And thus Crimson played alone. Fin.
"

Fanfiction

56

52372

Emperor Lone
2018-07-20 00:00:54

[Fanart] Can we ask for a favor?
"
I'm confused. Reminds me far too much of Matsuri (minor character). Pardon me if I happen to be tripping.
"

Fanfiction

24

10310

Dosu
2018-07-06 10:31:06

[Fanart] World Cup Celebration Fan-art Event
"
that's nice. Though it is the world cup, not the Olympics.
"

Fanfiction

40

2720

AislingDragonfl
2018-06-20 10:24:13

[Fanfiction] Celebration of release: Konan [Angel of God] – Story contest
"
The midnight sun, pale in the dark sky, was a welcome sight to the people of the Hidden Rain Village. For once, it seemed that the constant rain that their home was named after would stop, even if for a moment. Sensing an opportunity, five individuals slipped into the village, some slipping in from the darkest shadows of the village, some from the cold waters out in the bay, and one particular individual carrying a heavy bamboo pole, delicately balancing two buckets of fish. After all, the life of a spy was never particularly clean to begin with. High above them all, standing upon the tip of the highest tower in Ame, a lone woman enjoyed the ocean breeze, through half her body stalked the individuals from the nooks and crannies of the village. She was the Angel of a God, and the Shepherd who watched his flock. "Wolves." Konan muttered as she called back three quarters of her bottom half, becoming almost whole once more. It was time to hunt. ... Blaze, as his lord and master Danzo called him, was a seasoned Root operative who had seen it all. Yet the village of Ame, despite a quiet hum of nightlife, felt off. He had been dressed lightly, with a poncho and loose fitting clothes that made movement quick, through the air itself seemed to choke him, making every breath difficult. He had started off in a isolated market somewhere in the coastal district of Ame, his eyes watching a large, muscular man set down pail after pail of fish, a wild grin on his face as he spoke with the men who were with him. Blaze took a bite of the dango that he had purchased on a side stand, the cool yet chewy mixture leaving him craving for more. All around him, stands closed for the night, none of the shopkeepers seemingly wanting to be around him. The only exception it seemed, were the fishmongers before him. Blaze rose from his rest a moment after he finished the last dango, walking over to the fish stand and examining the fish. Bored, Blaze flicked his finger at the tail of one of the fish, the flesh cold and hard, in contrast to the firm yet lively flesh of the fish he cooked with at home. Odd, Blaze thought as he kept his eyes down, careful not to attract attention from the fishmongers, Why would anyone be walking around with frozen fish? A scrap of paper caught his attention a moment later, and only a lifetime of harsh training allowed him to avoid the sudden attack. Twin twisters of paper had lashed forward, seemingly from above, catching two of the fishmongers unaware, the paper wrapping around the men, and where there were once two men, now hovered two mummies, both floating in the air, neither one struggling. Blaze reacted as his training kicked in, launching a fierce dragon of flame at the two mummies, through the paper seemed to slip back, and twin screams of agony lit up the cloudless sky. With a curse, Blaze dodged back, narrowly missing a dozen slices of paper aiming for his jugular, through a flash of pain caught him unaware as the lead fishmonger, a giant twice his size, struck him with a mighty punch to the head, followed by a dozen heavy *s to his torso. In agony and on his knees, Blaze fell to the ground, his ribs shattered in no less than a dozen places, with his own bones tearing into his flesh. His last sight before the dark claimed him was the sight of a man falling in slow motion to the ground, clutching a severed limb as a sea of blood flowed. Then the world became black. ... Halfway across the city, Midnight, the Blade of Kumo, walked the backwater streets of a slum, his eyes no slower than his brisk pace. He had been sent to the city to eliminate a certain traitor, and he found the cold light of the moon comforting. Thus, all was good in his life. Except for a certain maggot that still walked the earth. His tracking skills had brought him to the dark slum where the poor labourers lived in tatty, miserable squats. It was a good place to hide from the past, and the various shadows that lurked from it, a heavy aura of fear ever present in the city. It was a flash of blue that allowed Midnight to catch his prey, the blue colour not of the ocean, but of a much lighter tone, a shade that very much seemed dyed. As far as he knew, the people of Ame, especially the poor, did not dye their hair. So he followed. He was silent of course, a good assassin always was. He began by hiding behind a building, his eyes darting across the remnants of an empty plaza, the stink of rotting food and unwashed bodies invading his nostrils. As far as he could tell, the only new things in the village around him were the tiny scraps of paper attached haphazardly to the walls. Perhaps they were some intricate sealing system, but he wasn’t sure. He tiptoed forward, leaping into a basket that he hoped to the gods above was dry and clean. It wasn’t, and rotten tomatoes gunked his boots. Midnight peeked out of the basket once he heard the world go silent, noting that the girl was gone, without a sound in the wind. With another curse, Midnight forced himself out of the small prison he had placed himself in, but never reached the ground. A gust of wind caught Midnight just before he landed, and a tempest of paper consumed him, choked him, and raised him up. Midnight screamed into the paper, but his voice had been muffled. For a brief moment, Midnight hung quietly in the sky. Then the paper let go, and the assassin from Kumo fell to his death, crashing into the heavy stone below. Just before he expired, Midnight saw his quarry again, her eyes wide, and her neck bent at an impossible angle. … It was at the crack of dawn when Konan found her final target leaving a bar with a pair of drunken men at her side. It had been a fairly long wait, as the infiltrator from Iwa had proven fairly useless, and rested some ten feet underwater, along with the rest of his false fishmongers. Even still, the clouds had returned, and the sun would not shine on the village for another week or so. It was a time for the last of the infiltrators to meet her end. Konan chose her form carefully, choosing to keep her cloak about, but hiding her other features. The average citizen of Ame would see their angel and run the other direction, but the foolish infiltrator would not. And so Konan watched as the woman lead the drunken men to their home, where a tired woman, her face lined with age, quickly gave her thanks as she took the two young men in. Konan took the opportunity to reform herself behind the two, silent as the old woman saw her. The younger woman saw too, perhaps out of the corner of her eye, and turned around, a knife falling from a hidden sheath in her sleeve. Konan was faster than her, and in the blink of an eye, struck the woman in a tight embrace. Slowly, the woman loosened, the blade clattering to the ground as her lifeblood seeped from a wound in her belly. Her blue eyes met Konan’s amber ones, and for a second, both of them knew what was happening. Yet still, she fought against the embrace of the paper angel, but Konan's grip was absolute. Konan held the woman tight as her eyes turned glassy, her focus fading. She was not without the ability to be gentle. Konan set the young woman down as she choked out her last breath, closing her empty eyes with a brush of her hand. “Ensure she is buried. It would be troublesome if a village of the enemy discovered her body.” Konan ordered the terrified elder, already turning into paper and returning to her perch, high above the city. It was a lovely morning, except for maybe the rain.
"

Fanfiction

7

733

Naked Snake
2018-05-04 03:40:07

[Events] New event cycle - 19th of April
"
Well. Time to sit on my coupons.
"

News

124

79519

IndraOtsutsuki(
2018-04-25 20:43:48

Arena Season Rewards [January]
"
60 kurotsuchi and 30 animal path. awful...
"

General Discussion

41

20322

lightmagic354
2018-02-05 02:33:35

[News] Server Merge Request - Week 22nd January
"
Server ID: 24 Hiruzen Server Region: NY Server Age: About 17 months Time taken to kill World Boss: 11 minutes ++ World Boss HP: 123 million No. of groups in GNW: 2 (one is sent to cross server gnw every other week). Top power levels Top 5: 111k Top 10: 101k Top 20: 91k
"

News

63

57775

Acer1
2018-02-05 19:36:20

[Character] Fanmade Future Ninja Skillbooks/Breaks
"
and explain to us how you are supposed to kill such a monster? As for all debuff, that was Jigokudo in 1.0, and that went horribly for everyone involved.
"

Fanfiction

51

12336

Naked Snake
2018-06-21 19:38:23

[Other] Misbehaviour thread
"
Name: KetsuyoJokan Server: 24 (Hiruzen) Explanation: It's a bot. Nuff said.
"

Bugs & Support

1649

931825

Abz8tzRwkotsgA8
2022-05-31 10:36:34

[Updates] Server Merge Request - Week 13th November
"
Server ID: 24 Region: NY Server age: 16 months Time taken to kill off World boss: 11 minutes World Boss hp: 94266547 Number of groups in GNW: 3 Average top 5 power: 104099 Average top 10 power: 93402 Average top 20 power: 83084
"

News

138

138265

Vaypra
2017-12-19 11:23:41

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