| [Sep. 16th, 2008|03:31 pm] |
The inventor of clones, Raidou decided, deserved a medal. He loved clones. They were fabulous bits of fighting distraction you could scatter everywhere...
He made fifteen solid ones, threw in another thirty insubstantial ones, and released them on the panicking household. Three died instantly when they touched some nasty seals, but the rest made it through intact. Raidou grinned as he watched several of the guards prove their non-shinobi credentials--mostly by bleeding spectacularly--and chakra-walked his quiet way in over the high ceiling. A nice, neat little jutsu kept him hidden from plain sight.
Until he ran into a non-bleeding guard.
"Identify yourself," commanded the tattooed shinobi, as Raidou eyeballed the quivering blade that had buried itself in plaster a scant inch from his nose.
"Easter bunny," he replied, and used the shinobi's lethal dagger to remove a hand. Blue-swirled fingers twitched on the floor twenty feet below as he conducted an impromptu Q and A session. The dagger saw a lot more use.
He'd lost five more clones--solid and insubstantial both--by the time he'd forced Kaito's location out of the shinobi. He thanked the man, gave him a clean death, and translocated two stories down before another ninja could break past his remaining clones to put a terminal end to his rescue attempt.
He wound up in a cellar.
"Cheerful," he said, very softly, as water dripped down the slick brickwork. "Very traditional decor..."
There were cameras nestled in high corners. Raidou took them out with kunai, found the door, and headed down a hallway. Above him, the sounds of a fight raged. |
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