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| The legend of Shin Chi Hayabusa; First fic, please read and comment | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 1 2006, 06:16 AM (352 Views) | |
| Ryou | Mar 1 2006, 06:16 AM Post #1 |
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Drunk...What, expecting something else? ._.
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This is not a story of happiness, nor of sadness. This is not a tale of heroism, nor one of a coward. This is not a legend of fortune, nor is it one of misfortune. This is the story of one persons will to go on, against the odds...This is the story of Shin Chi Hayabusa. Chapter One:The Cursed Bloodline Milinea ago, in fuedal Japan, lived a man by the name of Solarius Chi Hyperion. He was a warlord feared by even the highest officials of the goverment. Solarius had studied the martial arts for what seemed like his entire life, or at least since the day he was old enough to stand on his own two legs. He had been nicknamed Shiden of the Samurai, for his mastery of the Shiden blade, the choice of assassins. Solarius was one of the few mortals that mastered body, mind, and the life force that flows within all living things, chi. But by the time he accomplished this, he had grown old and feeble. Seeking out eternal life, he made a deal with the devil. Solarius was given a scroll containing directions to a shrine in Beijing China. Once there he found a Broadsword with Kanji written in blood across the blade. It took him nearly two years to find a man capable of translating it, and nearly one more to have it translated. It contained secrets to a forbidden technique, one that uses all of the bodies chi to grant imortality. It was labeled a curse, for the fact that once a living being loses all chi, it dies...but that did'nt stop the greedy man. Four years later Solarius mastered the technique, and died of what was presumed old age...Satan laughed as Solarius passed thru the gates of hell. Soon after Columbus discovered America, small groups of Japanese families, who had great riches, wished to no longer be oppressed by the Japanese goverment of the time/ One by one, they board large ships to the newly discovered Continent, and once there, take up residence in luxerious homes they had built before they arrived by sending they're carpenters ahead of them. One year after the Hyperion family had made themselves home in what would be known as America, they changed they're last name thinking that they would be accepted by the native Indians easier. Nine months after, they had a son named Jack Pheonix Archer. He was the hier to the Hyperion bloodline, but was granted the gift of Solarius's strength. Native Indians soon raided the town that the Archer's lived in...burning down the homes, stealing from the people, and soon after murdering them all. Jack was the only child there, the Natives let him live for that reason. They left him...to stare at the corpses of his family. Once he was grown, he became a mercenary for the British, taking out large Indian camps at a time, the ones that the British themselves feared. Archer passed away an old man living a comfortable life...they found an arrow in his forehead... Exactly seven hundred years later, five more decendants lived and died, carrying the bloodline on. They all joined Solarius in the pitts of hell... Chapter Two:First Memories Its the year 1990 in Tokyo Japan, I was found this year by my sensei Tensai Gorobie Shoryu found me in front of his dojo. He told me that he found me next to a Spear, lying on the ground. It is unknown to anyone if I even have a family, or even how I came into this world. I was brought up in the dojo, it was'nt perfect, but it was home. I was trained in Bushido and Ninjistu by sensei, along with many other students. Come to think of it...I can't even recall how many students their were, I just remember thier always being someone to spar with at anytime of the day. I was five when I began my training. I had to take fifty mile treks to the farthest well with two large pails on my back, and then carry them both back full. If I spilled any water, I had to go back, and then refill both buckets before I could go back. I was gone four days the first time. Once we returned with the water, we had to study in the library for five hours, sensei said once must also master the mind, as pure strength would only lead to self destruction and endanger everyone around you. After that, we would all gather in the center of the dojo to eat, by then it would be early in the afternoon, we started our chores at six in the morning. We would all debate with each other what jobs we would do to keep the dojo in its prime, I always got stuck with washing the main floor. I can't complain, all that racing for the next chore helped build my leg muscles. As soon as the sun dropped into the mountains, and the moon rose to its glory, training began. We all had our own weapons, and our own preferences, but we studied the same arts. Bushido was my favorite, of course, I always prefered the direct course of action, rather than sneaking around in the shadows, not that it did'nt come in handy mind you. We fought until sensei said we were finished, we then ate supper, and returned to our rooms. We all maintenienced our weapons, before lying down for sleep. Some of us went back to the main floor, and continued sparring until we could no longer stand. Sensei was like a father to all of us, he always seemed to be the same, like he never aged or something, I never asked. He was very forgiving, and favored no one, as he was our father, we were his chirldren. Life back then was simple and exciting, even if it was a little niave. How I wish I could go back... Chapter Three:Massacre I was ten, and had just left to get the water from the well. By now, I was farely fast, I could outrun the occosional wolf or coyote, rather than stop to fight them. I met three traveling merchants upon the path today, they all seemed kind, but greedy. At each stop to talk, I spent the money I found along the road those years, buying a straw hat, a pair of wooden sandals, and a sharpening blade for my spear. The sun had fully arose now, I had just arrived at the well and was lowering the first bucket. I looked back toward the dojo, eagerly awaiting lunch, when I saw smoke in the sky. Fearing the worst, something I often did, I dropped both buckets nad began running back to the dojo, taking forest pathes rather than walking the trail. Once I started getting close, I heard them...the screams of my brethen...that sound...I will never be able to forget it...it haunts my memories to this very day. I drew my spear which had been resting on my back, darting between the trees as fast as my body would take me. Crimson red was the only thing I could see, black figures standing within it. I think I was coughing from the smoke, but I really did'nt pay attention, it did'nt matter to me now. That was when I came to a wall of blazing darkness, they're screams filled the air, it was worse than any nightmare I could imagine. I leaned down, and jumped over the barrier, landing in what appeared to be the main floor. Their were seven...seven military Shogun standning in front of me. One of them was holding sensei by his neck, yelling to him of how his students grew up to slaughter they're soldiers. They were attacking innocent people, just to stop the competition, it was horrible... I held my spear high, and demanded that they leave the dojo. One of them charged at me, he drew his sword and cut me across the chest, I fell to the ground. He held his sword high, right over my head. It was over...my life flashing before my very eyes...until a memory hit me...it was of a man standing on what looked like a blood bathed battlefield, soldiers paved the land, all of them slaughtered. That was the last thing I remember of home...I later found myself at a nearby village, being told of how the dojo was burnt to the ground and then struck with what appeared to be a hurricane. An old man sat in the corner, commenting on how this "Ronin HUrricane" had wiped the dojo clean off the map...I just sat there...and cried myself to sleep... |
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| gamemasterdevil | Mar 1 2006, 10:35 AM Post #2 |
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Life's pimp
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For your first fic, this is good. The chapters could be a bit longer though. |
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Link to my forum: Emerald Hill Link to my devantART page: http://gamemasterdevil.deviantart.com/ Link to my Youtube Page: http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=gamemasterdevil1 My Personal Quote: http://objection.mrdictionary.net/go.php?n=1583126 Current Youtube project: Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door run-through | |
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| Ryou | Mar 1 2006, 10:40 AM Post #3 |
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Drunk...What, expecting something else? ._.
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Thanks, i'll remember to make them longer. Well, I have'nt had any inspiration for the next chapter, and my story telling is pure crap when I don't have inspiration, so it may be a while, but I assure you i'll get around to it eventually. |
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| Ryou | Mar 7 2006, 10:44 AM Post #4 |
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Drunk...What, expecting something else? ._.
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Well, i've found inspiration in the form of the songs, Meteor by T.M. Revolution, Fuhen, and Unlimited, both by Nanase Aikawa. ______________________ Chapter Four:Lifestyles Of The Ronin I was now a warrior without a sensei, better known as Ronin. I still questioned the Hurricane which supposedly destroyed the dojo, but I could even get to the remnants now, the Japanese goverment had it zoned off, I assumed because the Shogun which attacked were under Japanese flags. But I now found myself faced with the challenge of providing for myself, I had no food or shelter, and I was still young. For weeks I searched for employement, resteruants, farms, general stores, even blacksmithing. No luck... Everyday after searching for a job, I would have to go into the forest in search of fona, normally I would try my luck at fishing, and if all else failed I would hunt down deer. As far as a home went, I had come upon a cave deep in the forest, I assumed it was previously inhabited by a bear, or some other animal, with the bones I found lying on the ground. It was'nt the dojo, but it was home now. Everyday I would come home at nightfall, tend to my Spear, and prepare whatever food I had, before doing my best to go to sleep with the haunting memories of the burning dojo still plauging my mind. I spent what seemed like eternity living this lifestyle, I wondered if other Ronin had to deal with this...but I could'nt spend all day sobbing, I had to fend for myself. I eventually became employed at a nearby resturant, the Akibeko. I had to clean tables, and occiasonly get rid of the drunken customer. I made fifty yen an hour, barely enough to buy a bowl of white rice, but it was better than hunting, or I thought so anyway. Thankfully the manager, Asakura, let me eat to my hearts content at the end of the day, until I returned to the cave. I had befriended everyone at the dojo, so I was never alone, it was a big change for me, only seeing people when I went into town and at work. But one day at work, I met the only other survivor of the dojo accident, my old rival, Itachi Hitokori. It was when I had went to clean his table right after he left, he noticed me and drew his Katana. It was like old times...he charged at me, but I knew the moment I heard his footsteps that it was him, he was'nt a Shinobi, thats for sure. He thrust the tip of the blade at me, I darted around and caught the blade between my hands. We sat down and he paid for my meal. He told me how he had found his position in the military, and that they would recruit any skilled swordsman despite age. I despised the fact that it was the Japanese military that had slaughtered the dojo...but this was too good to pass up... Next Chapter:From Lone Wolf To Military Dog |
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