Post by Yorishou Kiyoshi on Oct 6, 2015 19:42:21 GMT
Night. 11:32pm. Heavy rain.
A figure, clad in a black kimono moved swiftly through the warehouses, depending on his senses to guide his path to the target. Water splashed on his clothes, obscuring his vision and making his boots sink into puddles, but he advanced as though there was no rain at all. In fact, it looked as though he was completely dry. The water on his clothes disappeared as soon as it touched, the water in his boots did not seem to stay. There was no squeak, there was no footsteps, none that could be heard over the downpour anyway, thunder cracked in the distance, the figure stopped, counting. The path was lit up by lighting, not even a second, he mused. The lightning must have struck nearby, but he was not here to deal with the weather.
Another crack of thunder, followed by another. But he was not fooled, to a human, two thunder claps in a row with no lightning would have been strange. The lightning struck a way off, two seconds, he noted. He was no ordinary human, this was no ordinary strangeness, and the second clap, was not thunder. His paced quickened, his body flashing in a smudge and he was on the roof of a warehouse, running now, faster and faster, his kimono bellowing out behind him, not hindered by the weight of water. He ran, sprinting, reaching the edge and jumping at an incredibly assurance that he would reach the other side, landing and continuing his run without pause. Water tumbled down the sides underneath him, flooding the narrow paths between the warehouses below. It hit heavy on the roofs, his footsteps becoming louder as the emptier warehouses came underfoot allowing for the echoes to carry. Then he paused. Kneeling down and surveying the scene in front of him. A large main road ran sideways in front, a row of warehouses on the other side, and in the centre one, with lights flickering, bestial howls and bloodcurdling roars, was what could only be described as a den of monsters.
Their essence pulsed across the road, he struggled to keep his in line but knew it would only be so long before they sensed him as well. Hiding was not his style, preparing to roll forwards off the edge to begin his assault but stopping before the move was made. He brushed down his red hair and placed his left hand on his knee, he knelt on one knee, his other hand gripping the thin hilt protruding from the sheath at his side. He sighed, his head turning as he sensed company, it seemed this night would not be as easy as he hoped.