The descent through the midsts of the nations

Mugens eyes narrowed as he kept track of the every movement in the vast plains of grass that had spread further than the eye could see. His facial expression merely covered by a white mask the base of which was embraced by the collar of his rather distinct cloak; the cloak had a specific pattern that was equal distance from it self each and every time, a red cloud unlike any other. His crimson hair acting on its own accord as strong yet warm winds brushed back and forth forcing the base of his cape to flutter as he walked. He had little knowledge of his location and thus had to keep his guard up at all times especially with the high chance of encountering hostile individuals in the vicinity. His right hand laid on the base of his tool pouch whilst his left brought the conjoining left part of the cloak to one side allowing his arm free movement with no interference.

He froze for a second allowing the wind to slip through his attire and cool off the minor sweat that had built up through out his current attire. His shoulders edged back as the temperature through out his body increased past the optimum required for the enzyme action at which point his left hand slipped up unhooking the small piece of string that held the two distinct parts of the cloak together allowing it to slip down his shoulders at which point a gust of wind knocked it west. He glanced at the cloak as it drifted a few inches from his current location by which point the free arm extended towards the cloak prior to firmly clenching it within his palm. No trees or any form of life in this forsaken valley, he didn't have anyone at that point, aside from the sound of his soles pushing simultaneously against the base of the ground.

He had been searching for an area to train which was why he slowly descended towards the ground while moving the cloak around and placing it onto the ground. His knees slowly touched down onto the cloak as he look straight ahead and braced his feet for a strong impact with the ground. His mentality had changed, this area was empty and excluded from the majority of the world; this was the great opportunity for him to train and improve his reflexes while awaiting the passing of some foreign individuals. He shot forward forcing the cloak to ascend along with a handful of dust, with every step he picked up the pace; his heart began to beat much faster while his adrenal gland began to let short bursts of adrenaline through his body allowing him to pick up the pace one step after another. All of the events had taken place in a space of around a minute, the cloak was around thirty meters from Mugens rear. He rotated his fairly heavy body and prepare to return.

Standing on the cloak now was a demon who's chakra was even now filtering into the ground below him. The soul like energy was beneath the ground in a radius of forty meters from the pole position, the body of the man standing upon the cloak. The cloak itself was an insult, some form of mummer's farce, it belonged to an imposter. The imposter for this insult would become part of a magic trick of which the true leader of the Akatsuki would perform. You see for his next trick he would turn the man into a corpse. It was not something that Blaine could suffer, instead of releasing the bijuu from the depths of his soul, his chest, he decided instead to humiliate the peon further. The hand seals formed while the other had their back turned, as they would sprint fast as they could the opposite way from Blaine. Of course this was extremely slow to the pale man who's black bandaged arms were now crossed over his chest. Normally his muscles did not show, but now they bulged as blood flowed through them and on his face was a mask. Not a mask like the imposter but a mask of the psychopath. His face was contorted into the features of true bliss, his yellow eyes wild and his long white hair blew behind him in the wind. Clouds above him rumbled as the sun became blotted out, hiding it's face from what was about to occur. It was almost as if it did not rise, crimson colored, every morning and it was like the glowing orb of fire was afraid of the color which would soon stain the ground. You see Blaine had to put the man down, and while Blaine still looked slight compared to the boy even though his muscles bulged he was much stronger. Even without his cloaks he could take the imposter's fisted blows without so much as feeling but a tickle. Deep laughter emanated from the solitary pillar that stood in the valley, while short the man was already a greater slayer of men than most would ever become. In fact his right bandaged arm was stained crimson from the place where he had removed the grey matter of a man who thought an empty apology would suffice to quell the bijuu's rage. The air was sticky and humid as if rain was about to come, when it would break finally none could say but it would be noted that it would not rain within the next hour or two, perhaps it would not even rain that day…anything besides blood. One of them would not make it from the valley alive, but now it was to see which one would be which. Who would be the one to make it out alive, this was the question asked by the gods above their darkened cloud cover as the valley fell into twilight. Already Blaine was standing behind the cloak, it would twirl in the air if not for the two solid boot prints made of clay, mud and dirt from the pale man.  He had stepped backwards and unfolded his arms as the man turned around, and then he spoke in a bored, dull and almost joyless voice, despite the crazed smile which fixed his cheeks upwards towards the sky.
 
“Imposter-chan, are you here to meet your death? If not I would forsake this cloak, and urinate yourself in hopes I do not slay you like I crushed this heretical cloth” as he spoke his voice grew as he raised his arms before dropping them after the question was asked and fell into a battle stance. His right foot was shifted a bit in front of his left and he was angled to his right, the hands already clenched into fists the right arm was brought up almost making a connected triangle with his left. Both fists were just below his jaw and his legs were spaced just barely apart, enough to provide support but not enough to make him stretch out his body in any way. His biceps and triceps were equally tense fore arms pointed up making an acute angle at the opposite of his elbows. His face still held a smile, and his yellowed eyes bore holes into the depths of Mugen’s soul, categorizing and tracking his every move as they had since before the boy had even entered the valley. Blaine’s eyebrows were raised in glee as he relished the idea of what was to come.  Hopefully the man would give him a taijutsu fight, and if not the Uchiha would probably die even quicker. If they would not meet in fists then it would be left to Blaine to use ranged attacks, one of which he had already set up and while this could be avoided yes Blaine doubted the other ninja could outlast him in a battle of chakra wasting. He had nearly twice as much chakra as someone his rank thanks to the horrid scorpion which dwelled inside him. While he did not know it, this meant he had so much more chakra than Mugen, he could waste most of his chakra and still compete easily with the boy.
 
94% Chakra remaining.

[Exit]