Endurance Training

[Zhuo Jina]

It happened on accident one night in the pirates cove that Jina stumbled upon some kind of fighting club. Here, the pirates just fought. One at a time until there was a nightly champion. Whoever could defeat the most challengers would win for the night, and win some respect amongst the men. 

Jina had been going for a few nights when she finally decided to step up as a challenger. The previous three nights, each of the champions had won three battles. The night was about half way over and the man currently in the ring had already won twice. She had been watching him and assessing his moveset and was sure that she could defeat him.

When the "host" called out for a challenger, Jina pushed her way through the pirates at the front of the crowd. "It's my turn to fight, boys!" Jina stepped into the fenced circle, the boards of the fence cracked and some broken from previous fights. The air smelled like booze and the ground was splattered with blood.

"You expect me to fight some lady?" The challenger asked the host. He shrugged, having heard her reputation from the guys who had brought me to this land.

The guys outside the ring began chanting for the current challenger, they were sure he would whoop her ass. Jina knew the guy wasn't stronger than her, and she was smarter and quicker. 

When the fight began, the guy in front of her circled briefly before he came at her, swinging. The ring wasn't all that big, maybe twenty feet across. Jina dodged his hasty attack to the right, ducking under his arm. He was tall, and that was his disadvantage. She came around from the the right and slammed her elbow into his ribcage, effectively knocking the wind out of him. "Ooof!"

"Don't," Jina kicked her foot in a sweeping sidekick into the back of the man's knee, still standing to the side of him as he doubled over from the first hit, "underestimate me."

As he fell to his knees, she once again swung her elbow around against his nose and a loud crack could be heard in the room. The man fell bleeding into the dirt and Jina stood up. The crowd had quieted sometime during the fight, but the adrenaline had kept Jina from noticing.

Jina walked away from the man and yelled, "NEXT CHALLENGER?!"

The next man who stepped into the ring was bigger. He looked stronger than the last but probably wasn't. He was shorter, more compact. In fact, he looked angry. Jina could use this to her advantage. The last guy was probably his friend and he couldn't let the honor of those he associated with be cripple by losing to a girl.

The host signaled the beginning of the fight with a loud hollar, the pirates around the ring could be heard making bets. None of them were betting on Jina, even after the last fight. Her opponent was circling, ready to defend himself. Jina was grinning, she was actually having fun. She was glad she hadn't been hurt in the last fight, because she had not seen how her new opponent could fight. When he didn't come at her, Jina decided to take the offensive. She ran for the side of the ring nearest her opponent and her quickness allowed her to jump swiftly onto a pole supporting the fence. She didn't get a chance to stand there as the man began moving toward her, motioning as if he was going to grab her legs. Instead of allowing him to get any closer, Jina used her long legs and front kicked him in the face. 

Her opponent wasn't expecting it, but it hadn't been a very powerful kick. Jina jumped over the head of the man in order to escape his grasp, as he recovered quickly. He turned to face her as she squared up. Without giving him time to swing, she jabbed him once in the stomach, hitting mostly muscle and then did a quick uppercut into his chin. 

Jina spun around and elbowed the guy in the solar plexius and then stomped on his toe in the same moment. The crowd was once again quiet, but Jina didn't care. She moved out of the way of her opponent as he lazily swung at her. His punch grazed her shoulder, it would probably be bruised in the morning, but it wasn't really enough to impede her.

Jina let the man swing again, off balance because of a broken bone or two in his foot. He stumbled past Jina and she did a backwards kick into his lower back, sending him head first into the wooden fence, snapping the pole that was laid into it.

The pirates became angry, many of them had lost money because of her. They were screaming and yelling. "This woman won TWO FIGHTS!" "SOMEONE KICK HER ASS" "FUCK HER UP, I SWEAR!"

Jina just smiled at their words. "Any takers?"

Another guy stepped into the ring. He was smaller than the others and moved with grace. He looked like a guy who would wield a sword much like her own. 

When the fight began, the guy stayed back but didn't hesitate to square up. He was a fighter and knew better than the other two. He was likely more equipped to deal with her mentally. Jina threw a hook and the man dodged to the back. As he dodged, he grabbed her hand and pushed it back at her. Quickly, he grabbed Jina by the throat. "You stupid bitch." Jina was ready though, and sent a truly powerful kick directly into the man's family jewels. The man's grip fell and as he fell to his knees, she kneed him in the nose, sending the man flat on his back.

"A word to the wise boys, Don't Call Women Bitches."

The pirates cheered, more of them had decided to bet on her now, winning some of the money back. She reached up and rubbed her shoulder where she had been hit during the one fight. She was glad that she was smart enough to outwit these three knuckleheads, but she knew it wouldn't always be this easy.

"What's your name, Miss?" The host asked. "Just call me Jina. I'll be back tomorrow." She smiled as the guys who had won back their money cheered for their new champion.

[Uesugi Kenshin]

Zhuo Jina: +3 Con

[Deleted]

The rain was still coming down. Juubei had just finished some fitness training and now he was told that he’d have to fight at least three people back to back, using whatever means necessary. Juubei didn’t have time for this and asked his immediate commander if he could fight three people at the same time. Juubei got the approval for this and grabbed a matchlock pistol. He’d changed his clothing a bit and had adopted a long sleeved top for this match. The purpose was to use the sleeves to cover the pan where the powder was contained for the pistol and prevent it from getting damp before Juubei pulled the trigger. He wasn’t going to shoot them, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to shoot at them. Three people of similar size to him were chosen and they squared off against Juubei. Juubei was fairly quick on his feet and rushed the man in the center, jamming the gun forward and firing a shot to the left side of his face.

It would appear as though these men weren’t used to gunfire, because most of them flinched at the sound. I guess they’d thought he would be using the weapon as a club. The noise, combined with the smoke from the burnt gunpowder, and the flash of the gun all contributed to them becoming stunned for the briefest of seconds. Juubei kicked the first man in the groin with a lot of force. When he doubled over from the pain, he was thrown into the man on right, and that’s when Juubei attacked the man on the left. He fainted with the butt of the pistol and kicked this man also in the groin. With two successful cheap shots, the jig was up. The man he hadn’t struck was well aware off how Juubei was fighting and was wary for a sudden shot to the testicular region. Juubei pondered how he’d take this man out and that’s when he remembered. Although he’d changed his shirt to accommodate the pistol, he had continued to wear his filthy mud caked pants. Juubei kicked his right leg upwards and dislodged a good deal of thick mud that’d been adhered to his pants. It went into the face of the remaining combatant. Because of his previous actions, he’d reacted as if Juubei had planned to kick him between the legs and therefore hadn’t been in a position to guard his face and eyes.

The mud went into his eyes and he cried out in shock. In the process of wiping away the mud from his eyes, Juubei was left with a dilemma. On the one hand, he could punch the man in the sternum and take him out that way; on the other hand he could kick him between the legs and have a little fun with this. Juubei took the second option and when his foot audibly connected with last fighter’s groin, the crowd around him just looked on in disbelief. They couldn’t believe that Juubei had been so underhanded in his fights. Juubei didn’t want to fight anyone else. Partially because he was exhausted, but mostly because nobody would fall for his tricks after seeing what he’d just done. If he wanted to fight any further, he’d have to use some actual skill and not just dirty tricks.

[Kyojin]

As he was instructed, Kyojin made his way into the ring. His lord had informed him of what could only be described as bad people in this area. They were easy to find, because they were drawn to this ring. If he had to, he would kill these bad people. The world did not need bad people. Bad people took things away from others -- just like what happened to his mother so many years ago. Maybe he would find her again some day, but for now he belonged to the Takeda and they needed him to purge this area.

He reached behind him and drew his kanabo with ease. He did not wield it, though. No, instead, he set it down and let it balance on its tip. The weapon was massive, taller than most men. It was just as ugly as its wielder too. The weapon had some material wrapped around the base, whether or not it was what was used to forge it is unknown. There were splinters all along its length, threatening infection should it not kill who it touched. "You stay there." He whispered, as if it could hear him. To be honest, it looked to be a support beam from a house that had been re-purposed. "Good boy. I gonna get the bad men. Just stay--"

There was a resounding crack, as a piece of wood was broken against his back. One of the challengers had tried to get the best of him and use a piece of debris to take him out, but Kyojin was like a rock. He was even standing still as one. It was as if the hit had changed the gentle giant. In a flash, he spun around and back-handed the challenger.

"No!" he roared. The giant's voice was like a volcano erupting. It shook and sounded off with such force, that nearby birds began to fly away. The powerful blow of his hand hitting the male was enough to knock him out of the ring and out of consciousness. Kyojin's grotesque hands were balled into fists, thick leathery fists. "NO! Bad man no hit Kyojin when he back turn!" He stomped his foot and beat on his chest like a beast.

He stomped over to the edge of the ring and shouted at the man, blood and foam spilled over his mouth. It was then that the other two challengers made their way into the ring. Both of them were more wary than the first. Each had armor on and had a katana -- they might as well have been in cardboard and holding butter knives. They were at the edges of the ring and were hoping to use their numbers to tire him out. If they could piss off the giant just enough, they would be able to make him do their jobs for them. they would have to be quick on their feet, though.

Kyojin charged for his weapon and picked it up with both hands. The spot where it had been was a dent in the ground, nice and rounded like the tip of his weapon. He tossed it over his shoulder and trotted over to the men, before bringing it down overhead. The two men split, causing him to bring his weapon down on the circle that made up the ring. The energy displaced into the ring caused it to bounce and jiggle as it came off the ground. The ringing it made was almost just as bad as the warcry that Kyojin had made earlier.

"TINY MEN STAYING STILL!" He bellowed out as he turned around swinging his weapon. Once, twice, thrice, he swung it and the men still dodged him. Their plan was working. Kyojin was missing every time, then suddenly it was over. Kyojin stopped his weapon from hitting the ground through a sheer force of will. A snap was heard as he stopped his swing, before he pivoted. His entire body spun with his weapon, sending the other two men flying just like the first. Their armor crumpled like a wet paper bag. They laid next to each other and Kyojin smiled. He was smiling.

"Make the bad men go away. They sleeping now." He put his weapon on his back and rubbed his mouth. The pain of him biting his tongue was finally hitting him. His smile faded and he rubbed his mouth. "They make Kyojin hurted himself." He spat out the blood. That was one taste he would never get used to. "Kyojin no like little men..." He muttered before going out of the ring. He was going to go home now. Bad men could not hurt him there...

[Oda Nobunaga]

Kyojin: +3 Con STORED

[Fujishima Shigenobu]

Ooooh, a fight club. Now that, Fujishima could get behind. A bunch of suckers putting money on the table to see how badly they would fail at knocking him out. The wooden-slat walls of the pit were old but sturdy, with many a dark patch adorning them. Clearly quite a few "someones" had failed to keep all of their fluids inside. He stripped down to just a pair of hakama, his lithe physique actually rather small compared to his first challenger, a big man with a bald head who towered over Shige by a good six inches and probably outweighed him by 50 pounds. The big man rolled his head around to stretch his neck, grinning behind parted lips that displayed his several missing teeth. Even his nose looked to have been broken a few times. Arrogant bastard probably even thought he'd win.

Shige sighed and shook his head slightly as the big man lumbered forward to start the bout, some rousing cheers coming from the onlookers. Nimbly circling, unsurprisingly light on his feet, Shige just watched the big man move. Lumbering really was the best adjective, as he seemed hell-bent on simply overpowering his much smaller opponent. Big keg-shaped fists opened and closed, and that silly grin hadn't left the man's face yet. Shige had seen more than enough of this lout. Time to wipe the smile off his face. Shige backed himself closer to one of the walls, drawing the cue ball closer to him. And then the time was right; turning and taking a few quick steps, Shigenobu launched himself toward the wall, planted his foot, and used it to propel himself further up and back toward the big man. Spinning nimbly in the air, Shige brought his bare heel around to collide with the man's nose. A sickening crunch was heard even by the onlookers, and blood sprayed as the man's nose was broken yet again. He howled in pain and grabbed at his face, and Shigenobu landed and immediately took advantage, using the remnants of his momentum to sweep the leg. The big man went down hard and a hard palm swiftly followed, slamming into the already ruined nose. A crunch, a shriek, and the man stopped struggling, his breathing labored. Shige was sure he'd be fine as a couple burly guys came into the ring to retrieve the man. Or he might not be. Whatever. Round one was a rousing success and the onlookers had quieted slightly.

The next man to step out into the ring was much closer to Shige's own size, and given his obnoxiously long pre-fight routine of kicking and spinning and saying "hi-ya" a bunch, might actually have been on Shigenobu's level. Shige simply stretched out his shoulders while he waited, bored of it almost before it started. A high-pitched "heeeeeEEEEE" sounded the beginning of this round as Shige's opponent practically flew toward him at a dead sprint, and then actually flew toward him in a leaping kick. This time is was Shige's turn to grin, as leaving one's feet against an equally speedy opponent was in general a pretty terrible idea. The fighter may as well have been jumping in slow motion as Shige rolled forward under the kick. Both men regained their feet at the same time, each facing away from the other. Shigenobu aimed a low mule kick straight for the base of the man's spine at the same time he directed a high spinning roundhouse kick toward Shige's head. Sadly, a straight line usually beats a circle, and the same heel that had destroyed the bald man's nose snuck in under the outstretched leg of his opponent. The entire audience collectively gasped at the force of the blow. Even Shigenobu cringed at the damage, not having meant to hit the man there at all. There were some things a man just didn't do to another man, but at least that was two down now.

A thin sheen of sweat was forming on Shigenobu's body now, glistening dully in the bright candlelight of the club. The next man to enter had apparently been paying attention and instead of charging straight in, circled warily on light feet. This might just be trouble, not that Shige would have said as much out loud. The crows was also back into things now. Apparently this man was a local favorite. A good fifteen seconds of wary circling went on before Shigenobu's own arrogance got the better of him and he moved forward to strike. His opponent's gleeful grin matched Shige's own and the two exchanged blow after blow, parrying and countering, striking and dodging. Hits were landed by both men with fists and feet and shins until finally Shige brought his opponent low with a well-executed heel hook. He hopped backwards, knowing his opponent was not quite done yet, and true to form the man used his legs to spin back to his feet like a dancer. Both men now were breathing heavily, sweat pouring from wherever the dust of the arena wasn't already caked on. It was the man's turn to rush Shige this time, but Shigenobu was prepared. A quick crouch to coil his springs and then he pushed off hard and threw his head backwards, his leaping momentum bringing his feet up and over his body in a flash kick. The opponent had clearly underestimated how much gas Shigenobu had left in the tank, and the maneuver caught him completely by surprise, and both foot strikes caught him right beneath the chin. The force of the hits even hurt Shigenobu, and the man was out before he hit the floor. Three down and the crowd began booing and hurling things into the ring.

Shigenobu turned to them, arms wide in victory despite the ragged breathing. He yelled in triumph. Were these cretins not entertained? Were they upset that they were losing so much money to the small-framed challenger? Shigenobu laughed in their faces and spat at the nearest to show his contempt. He could take anybody these fools could throw at him! He was Shigenobu, and he was simply the best there was, the best there is, and the best there ever would be. He turned to face his newest opponent, a wide smile on his face. He was met only with the hardest fist he had ever felt. Shigenobu didn't even feel himself hitting the floor, and didn't wake up for nearly five minutes despite the use of smelling salts. By then, the crowd had already forgotten him and he was forced to gather his things and leave the arena in search of a shower. Three. He really needed to work on that.

[Azai Mana]

(( OOC: Takes place following my Fitness SPQ, and changing up the circumstances a bit. ))

A couple of days rolled by after Mana's performance at the fitness drill. She found herself walking through town, donning her usual Eurowear. She realized that she might stand out, a pale, white-haired Japanese wearing foreign clothing, but it didn't bother her. For all she knew, it might attract the eye of Nagamasa or one of his ranking retainers. That would be particularly convenient, she felt. Even if that were the case, it was still not why she dressed like this.

It was because she found it both comfortable and efficient wear.

Regardless, Mana continued walking through town until she heard the sounds of combat coming from within a building. It was a tavern frequented by the townspeople and travelers alike. Curious as to why there was fighting going on, Mana turned and entered. The sight within surprised her: a ring had been drawn in the center of the inn, all the tables and chairs pushed back to make room, and two people were fighting in the ring. Now this was interesting... Why would they willingly beat the hell out of eachother? Moreover, where had she seen this before?

Disregarding the second question, as those involved in the inn were most likely not thugs or criminals, Mana took some amount of interest in this activity, pulling up a chair and sitting to watch. The men continued to swing at eachother for a while until one of them hit the floor, landing partway outside of the ring. The clear victor who still remained within the bounds of the ring, a tall, muscular brawler, planted his hands on his hips and looked around through the crowd, apparently selecting his next opponent.

His gaze landed on Mana. Brow furrowing, the man waved at the woman to come forth. The crowd looked to his choice, and murmurs could be heard amongst them. Mana rose from her seat, deciding to adhere to his challenge, and advanced into the ring.

"Are you ready, little lady?" he inquired. Mana simply nodded. He charged her without warning, roaring as he swung a thick fist for her skull. In three seconds, he was on the floor, face-first, and in the fourth second, Mana's heel was on his head.

What had happened?

When the man charged, Mana saw that one of his ankles wasn't as stable as the other. He'd likely sprained or injured it during an earlier match, yet was able to keep going because the rest of his challengers focused on the upper half of his body, not the lower. When he came into striking range, she ducked under his fist and stepped into a low stomp kick, striking the front of his ankle. Mana shifted her foot, hooking the attacked ankle, and pulled as hard as she could. Using both the force of her earlier attack and his prior injuring of the targetted limb, she was able to trip the brawler and send him to the floor. As for why her heel came to be against his head, Mana had simply turned around, stepped over and lifted it up, silently declaring herself the victor.

Removing her foot from his skull, Mana stepped away, the man shakily rising up with a much more obvious limp. He hadn't fallen from the ring, so he could still fight, but having his own momentum smack him in the face and his ankle agitated further made him realize it was time to call it. He limped out of the ring, Mana folding her arms under her bosom and surveying the incredulous crowd. "Next?"

Answering her call was a shorter, more stocky man, striding into the ring with an air of confidence. It seemed as if he fully expected to win. He settled into a wide stance, Mana deduced him to be a grappler. She waved him onward, and he came forth, rushing in and attempting to take Mana by the waist. She slipped away from his greedy fingers and swiped a backfist into his jaw, turning his head. Grunting in response, he attempted to take hold of her arm, to which she pulled back through his closing fingers until coming to his hand, which she willingly grabbed. The grappler was confused, but tried to take advantage of her apparent willingness by pulling her in. He received a kick to the knee for his troubles, Mana having used his eager tug to gain momentum. Once he released, the ex-enforcer followed with a knee strike to his stomach, then a snap kick to his chin, throwing his head back. This left him exposed for Mana to whip around on her heel and bend forward mid-movement, planting her hands on the floor as she mule kicked the man in the gut, throwing him off of his feet and out of the ring. Her combo attack won her the fight.

Left reeling, the grappler managed to get back up, rubbing his belly in clear surprise at what just happened. Mana had already stood back up, dusting off her fist as she looked around, waiting for the next man to step into the ring. She didn't have to wait long, for a lanky fellow made his way in to meet her, offering a polite bow, which Mana returned. The two stood, her opponent assuming a balanced stance and beginning his advance.

Mana and the thin man met in the center of the ring, both throwing left punches that met with eachother to no effect. When he made to thrust a knife-hand at her throat, Mana bat his wrist away and followed with a head chop, which was fended off similarly by the man. He brought his hands low, then threw one forth at the ex-enforcer in a low jab, meaning to impact with her ribs, but she saw it coming and sidestepped the attempt, at the same time lashing out with a palm-heel for her opponent's chest. This time, she met with success, staggering him for just a couple seconds. Mana quickly whipped her leg up and slashed her foot at the man's ribs, repeating one time, two times, three times, damaging and staggering him further. He made to recover and swept his own leg up in a roundhouse, but Mana kicked back and they met in the middle. She wasn't done, however, and bat his leg aside before putting hers back to the floor, and falling into a backflip during which both her feet, one after the other, collided with the lanky fighter's chin. The first strike tossed his head back, and the second made him fall onto his back, his head just touching outside of the ring.

With three victories under her belt, Mana stood back up tall, folding her arms once more beneath her chest. "Another," she requested. In total, she felled ten opponents one after the other before retiring for the day. As Mana left the tavern, she overheard someone commenting, "Was that Azai-dono in here earlier? I could've sworn that was him!"

Mana couldn't say for sure, but if Nagamasa had been watching her matches, it would've... Well... She wasn't certain if it was happiness she felt, but that was the closest she could call her feeling, had he truly been observing.

[Mōri Motonari]

Fujishima Shigenobu: +3 Constitution

Azai Mana: +3 Constitution

[shinakawolf]

My leader date decided to run a tournament to train his men and probably let us all blow off some steam. this was a great opportunity for Shin he still had lots to master and there are many strong members of date's group but soon he will join them in there ranks maybe sooner than later shin would hope. Shin stood outside of a small ring that was set of for the men to fight with in. Shin was waiting his turn before he entered the ring to fight his opponent who was standing on the exact opposite of him. shin could tell this opponent would be no push over but he should still beat him if he as long as shin did not get cocky with in the battle. "next challengers step right up!!" someone yelled out in the middle of the ring i step into the ring my right hand on my swords hilt.

while this man smiled not drawing his weapon but holding of his arms like he wanted to just fight hand to hand with no weapons involved. this intrigued shin greatly as he would love to except the challenge of his opponent. He took his belt off connected to his sheath. i held out my hands keeping no armor on them to keep this a fair hand to hand combat scenario. my opponent lead with a straight kick to the stomach i was able to step back to dodge the kick. shin then grabbed the leg and twisted it to a point of breaking if shin went any further. " i would suggest giving up before you leg becomes quite broken " shin said knowing this was not a traditional Japanese fighting style but remember shin inst all Japanese. The man smiled as he pulled his leg back to him dragging shin with it and punching shin in the face pushing shin back a good foot away from him. shin realized this is a lot hard since this must be how his opponent fights all the time. shin then smirked as sin got up and quickly ran forward knowing shin was faster since he was very strong built shin quickly moved my right hand pack punching a strong jab to his left side but he was slower to dodge attack then shin attempted a round kick to the stomach. the man took the jab and was hurt as he blinked sadly because of this he was kick in the gut strongly taking him to a knee. " is this my win or shall we keep it up " shin said. the enemy then smiled as he nodded just thanking me for giving a fair fight.

next round easy since shin's opponent next was already hurt enough shin could just hit him hard enough and he would fall and that's how it went.

the third round his opponent was like him two wins no loses, this means we both had some minor damage but very small. Shin quickly drew his sword and ran forward going to attempt a hit to his left leg with the blunt side of his sword so he could just trip him up. the opponent was a staff user because of this Shins attack was easily blocked by the staff. shin upper lip twitched in frustration as the attack was useless but, shin the dropped his sword using something un orthodox and unexpected, he punched his right arm up and hit his opponent up under his chin throwing the opponent down to the ground. third round won thankfully now shin picked up his sword and put it back with in the sheath.

the next two rounds shin won but he lost in the semifinals to the top dogs of date's group members. Shin enjoyed fighting with in the tournament and was able to train some more and harness his skills just a bit better.

[Tokugawa Ieyasu]

shinakawolf +3 Con

[Mōri Motonari]

{This is going to be a past thread, basically the SPQ taking place when Motonari was a kid. In fact, before he was even known as Motonari. Huzzah! Oh, it sucks near the end. Brain kinda died. Sorry. >.<}

"What? Are you not gonna prove yourself, Shojumaru? taunted a teenage boy to the fourteen-year-old Motonari, whose brown eyes moved up from his scroll, looked over at the kid, decided he was an idiot, and went back to reading in silence. It somewhat irked him that no suffix was used, but he thought it better to simply ignore the others. This was not an uncommon occurrence ever since at twelve he became an adviser for his elder brother daimyo. It was simply difficult for most to accept that there were those who were far more intelligent than them, especially children. The other boy seemed particularly frustrated, and a couple of others with him stepped closer. "See? Always sticking his nose in scrolls and keeping to himself. I bet he doesn't even know how to wield a bokken properly. Hell, even hold one!"

"Yeah!" exclaimed one of the other boys.

Another crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, "And to think he's adviser to itoko-sama, and engaged to Fujin-san..."

"She's gorgeous! Becoming a real beauty, filling out and growing in all of the right places, and... and freaking Shojumaru of all people is... is... What makes him worthy?"

"Bastard...!"

"What makes you deserve all of that? What the hell can you do? We've never seen you do anything but read your damn scrolls and play freaking shogi!" suddenly they had turned on him, and were growing closer, surrounding the young Motonari, who didn't stop reading, gaze downcast. He had grown irritated from them talking about his fiance as they did, but contained himself.

The taller of them drew closer, placing a hand on top of the scroll to cover it and flicking a strand of Motonari's brown hair, leaning in and asking lowly, "Too scared to say anything, huh? Huh?"

At this stage in the young Motonari's life, he had actually been rather non-violent, peaceful even. It was not that he was against fighting, but would have rather avoided it if possible, finding it to be a waste of time. He was not irked easily at the time and took a lot more, which was quite contradictory to his current character, who detested and had no patience for incompetency or disrespect.

Blinking at the taller cousin's action, Motonari finally raised his gaze upwards, staring into the face of the older boy. His expression was impassive, and even seemed bored. He was obviously entirely unaffected by the intimidation or the words of the others. Even at his young age, Motonari was not going to let them get a rise out of him, knowing full-well that he was superior to them in nearly every way. He had seen their skills, both physically and mentally, and the current daimyo's younger brother knew he was leagues ahead of them. It was not really a sense of superiority at this age. Now when he is older, that is a whooole other story lulz, but mere fact from observation and comparison. He didn't need to prove himself, not in his mind, at least.

Raising his brows, Motonari replied rather matter-of-factly,[/font "Not particularly. There is no discernible reason for me to defend myself to a coterie of cretins."

Well, maybe there was a slight air of preeminence even at this age... lololol ilu Motonari <3

The one who had just spoken blinked and stood straight, taken aback, although simultaneously confused. It was clear he wasn't quite sure how to feel. "What was that?"

"I think he was insulting us!"

'Think?' They couldn't possibly be related, could they? The young Motonari had to restrain himself from visibly rolling his eyes. To think he shared blood with these morons...

But the young Motonari didn't have much time to think about it, as a voice called out, "Otōto-san, you may as well prove to them your worth."

Everyone's gazes moved over to source, but Motonari knew who it was without even looking. It was his older brother, Okimoto, or the current daimyo. He was standing in the hallway, leaning on a wooden pillar. Okimoto's expression was clearly amused, lights flicking, dancing within his eyes, and Motonari pondered just how long he had been there watching this scene unfold. The daimyo grinned and added, directly speaking to Motonari, "If only to uphold our family's honour, yes?"

"Nii-sama..." Both Okimoto and Motonari knew he could wipe the floor with them, and the younger brother conveyed this with his eyes. The only real point of this would be to humiliate the others. But messages went back and forth between the two, the daimyo moving closer to his younger brother. The others missed what was silently spoken to the siblings, as they backed away and bowed nervously. But there was more reason than that, and deep down even Motonari knew this was the truth.

Because of his young age, many did question Motonari's power and influence, besides those who saw his prowess firsthand and knew just what all the young boy did. As troublesome as it was, people's opinions did matter for those in their positions, and if everyone didn't believe Motonari held any worth, that could bring about problems. When faith and trust wavered, for justifiable causes or not, people could be uprooted from their positions and there was more room betrayal, for treason. And that was dangerous, indeed.

"Come on. Show all of our idiot cousins why I chose you to be one of my top advisers," said the current Mori daimyo lowly, smiling widely and patting Motonari's shoulder. He straightened up, hands slipping into the sleeves of his kimono, and he announced to the others, "None of you have seen him fight, right? You believe that he cannot hold his own, so he cannot possibly be good enough to be my right-hand man. Or that he is a real worthy candidate for marrying Fujin. That... what? Shojumaru-kun is just having everything handed to him because of the Mori name? Am I getting this right, cousins?"

They appeared nervous, afraid they had offended the daimyo, and shifted uncomfortably, murmuring in unison, "Well..."

A hand removed itself from a sleeve and waved up and down dismissively, and said all while smiling,"No, no. You aren't the first to have that concern. So why not have a little contest? A fighting match. One-on-one, with my otōto fighting each of you, one after the other."

This seemed to surprise all of them and they glanced at one another. "Does that sound fair? Is that acceptable?"

They all grinned and nodded enthusiastically, satisfied at the thought of finally being able to pummel their supposedly "unworthy", "weakling" younger cousin, and not get in trouble for it. Motonari simply sighed and rolled up his scroll. He hoped this wouldn't take long, hoping to go back to his studies.

Soon enough, they had all found themselves at the Mori dojo with bokkens in their hands. The other boys seemed overly excited and eager, while Motonari remained bored. The sooner he could prove his worth to these imbeciles and make them shut up, the sooner he could get back to enriching his mind.

The first to face Motonari, after bowing, stood still for a few moments. As the cousin immediately charged the younger of the boys, he read his body, casually standing in place. With ease, he evaded the attack last second, extending his leg to trip the unsuspecting opponent, and, while the other stumbled, Motonari swung the bokken at the back of his neck, bringing him down within seconds. Everyone but Okimoto, who silently chuckled and grinned, was shocked, their jaws dropping. The match had ended so swiftly that they had barely even been able to see what had happened, let alone comprehend it.

"T-That was just a lucky hit," exclaimed one of the others, who went forward as the defeated boy groaned and crawled away. "Just luck!"

Motonari didn't say anything, and, after the two bowed, they slowly walked in a circle. The current daimyo's brother read the other, and, when he finally charged, Motonari calculated his moves in a Sherlock sort of fashion. Aw yis. He's a badass. This one was more skilled and careful, and Motonari dodged accordingly, the bokkens clashing. Eventually, the other leaped away and charged forward again, hoping to use the speedy attack to his advantage. Dodging, Motonari took a hold of his wrist, getting behind the cousin and grabbing his other arm. He used the momentum and weight against the opponent. Swiftly bringing the arm with the weapon behind his back and pulling him back, Motonari hooked his leg with the teenager's, pushing him down simultaneously. Effectively disarming him, the daimyo's brother proceeded to force him down, falling onto him and digging his knee into his back while threatening to break his wrist and pinning the other arm on the ground, until he finally cried to be let go. Think Jujutsu. I just can't describe moves for shit.

Two down. One more to go. At this rate, they were all shocked and angry, and even frightened, and Okimoto was clearly trying very hard not to laugh. Despite his best efforts, the third match went much the same. Motonari easily calculated his opponent's moves, his motions swift and fluid. Expecting the attacks, he was able to dodge and counter easily, and eventually used the opponent's weight and power against him with hardly breaking a sweat. The others may have been physically stronger than Motonari, but he had easily been able to use their strength against them, with his speed and wit.

With a sigh, Motonari rolled his shoulders and moved to put away the bokken so he could go back to his previous work. Hanging it up, the daimyo's brother inquired, without looking at them, "Does that suffice? Has my worth been adequately proven and displayed? ... Good. Now if you will excuse me, I would like to get back to my studies."

Generally, Motonari was not cold, not at this age. He was studious and sometimes distant, wrapped up in his deep, intricate thoughts and ideas, but could be very warm and pleasant. But, understandably so, the boy's patience had worn thin with his cousins. Turning around, he began to walk away, but, as he passed them, Motonari stopped. He glanced over at them, and for the first time his gaze clearly showed emotion. It was not overwhelming, but the message was crystal clear, the warning making them gulp.

"Oh. Also, I highly suggest ceasing to froth over Fujin-chan like a pack of mongrels. She is a good, respectable person and her worth is leagues away from what any of yours could possibly ever dream of being... and she is my fiance."

Motonari highly respected Fujin, seeing her as a good friend first and foremost. Her honour was of great importance to him, and the idea of his cousins or anyone undressing her with their eyes or thinking of her in even the slightest of impure ways displeased him. He had been protective even before they were engaged, and once they had gotten older and it was arranged for them to be married... well... it only grew all the more.

At this stage in his life, Motonari wasn't known to be an intimidating person in the least, and so they were taken aback by the dominance and hostility. This was the first real hint of the present day Motonari, and after staring at them long and hard and getting his message across perfectly, he walked away, brother finally releasing his amused laughter.

Stay away from his fiance, mother fuckers. xD

[Takeda Shingen]

Mōri Motonari: +3 Con

[Takeda Nobutoyo]

☼ Takeda Nobutoyo stood across from a lithe Takeda soldier who eyed him with curiosity. It was to be expected on some level as Nobutoyo hadn’t been around in years and most people wouldn’t recognize him, even if they’d been around at the time. This man hadn’t. Nobutoyo clutched his sword in his right hand and had it pointed towards the ground. He walked up to the man in a casual pace and lifted his sword when he’d crossed the point that resided halfway between the two of them. In response his adversary’s sword was raised. ☼

☼ Takeda eyed the man up and gauged him to likely be a bit quicker than he was, but also that Nobutoyo was a bit stronger. He slashed quickly from top to bottom and brought the slightly serrated blade down upon his opponents head. It was intercepted as he’d expected and as soon as it was, Nobutoyo threw a punch with his left hand and caught the man square in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Takeda Nobutoyo had been on the road for many years and in that time he’d abandoned all notions of fighting in a chivalrous manner. ☼

☼ He aimed to win and that gave him the right to do whatever it took. He must have had a friend on the outside of the ring because someone jumped up and proceeded to rush him from behind. Takeda Nobutoyo had to fight three people & defeat them before he could leave, so this actually worked in his favor. Nobutoyo spun on his assailant, but miscalculated his quickness, for the only thing he saw was a fist coming straight into his face. He leaned back to try and take some of the strength out of the punch, but it wouldn’t be much & it was still going to hurt. ☼

☼ Nobutoyo staggered for a second before realizing his nose was bleeding. He licked up the blood quickly, taking it into his mouth as he was spun around by the force of the hit. When he finally reoriented himself to his attacker he was faced with a man without a weapon. This meant the man was going to fight him with his bare hands or at least attempt to. Nobutoyo discarded his sword by tossing it to the write and that’s when the other man, who was much more physically imposing than the one he’d knocked out, charged him. ☼

☼ This wasn’t something he was going to win with brute force, so he needed a plan. When the powerful martial-artist came upon Nobutoyo with the fury of a typhoon, he was met with an unorthodox tactic. The blood Nobutoyo had collected in his mouth was spin into the face of the other man and temporarily reduced his vision, while also simultaneously pissing him off even more. This left him an opening that was swiftly exploited with a quick jab to the throat. ☼

☼ It was a weak point for most men and it caused a serious bout of coughing in Nobutoyo’s enemy, as well as fit of labored breathing. As the man dropped to his knees to continue coughing, and trying to cuss Nobutoyo out, the man sidestepped and kicked the other in the face, ending their brief skirmish. He was tired and didn’t feel like continuing any longer, so he declined another fight and headed over to the edge of the ring where a couple of other fighters were getting ready. He was being chewed out by the officer in charge for quitting, but such was a ruse.

☼ He didn’t feel like trying very hard to beat someone else, so he feigned quitting and simply sucker punched one of the fighters that passed him on his way to the center of the platform. The man went down like a sack of potatoes. After this he hauled ass out of there because everyone was upset at the shit he’d just pulled and from that day forward nobody wanted to spar Takeda Nobutoyo because of how cheap he fights, so really he killed two birds with one stone. ☼

[Takeda Shingen]

Takeda Nobutoyo: +2 Con