Board Thread:Important Logs/@comment-28929139-20170919002656/@comment-28929139-20170919003312

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epN8P4MKOEY

Six Months later...

Everyone and everything was dying, but one of the only villages that seemed to carry on business as usual had been the quaint little town known as Masumachi. Having only been visited by a particular trio of ninja some four years ago, it was mostly unknown to the larger villages. Located just half a day's ride east of Takigakure, it had gained some notoriety by southerners as being the Kogakure of the north. By many of its other tourists, it had been known as "Little Koga" or "Mini Ko" but by all accounts, it had been praised for its advancement in technology and architecture despite its very remote and rural location. With streets of cobblestone and window panes of beautiful stained glass, Masumachi was a place of romantic stories and fairy tales. Between its post-Edwardian-meets-fareast aesthetics, its advancement in weaponry, the food and the women, one could not ask for a more ideal place to be.

But that could be debated.



A very familiar looking young man in his early twenties had been looking down upon this pretty little town from the large white dirigible that floated quietly over it all. From up here, Masumachi looked like a beautiful little jewel shining in a slowly growing fire against a field of brown and red. The world was going to shit and Masumachi had been one of the last of the smaller villages to fall. Yes, the vegetation and foliage had died out, but their main source of food had only been minimally effected until several months after.

Their main source of revenue and resources had been furnished by their thriving tourist industry and hospitality. So while there had been a complete devastation in southerners and tourists that hailed from the land of Hot Water, there was a curious influx of migrants and tourists coming in from Takigakure. It was odd because, in the twenty plus years of being around, it had always been military silence from their larger neighbor to the west. But once the presence of demons had presented itself, contact had been established for supplies. While slow to begin, the men that were sent to this small would be sent in small groups would never return. And with the growing suspicion of foul play at hand, the ever stealthy village began preparing for an attack and supply raid. Again, like nearly all its other brother nations, the absence of plant life, the spreading miasma birthed from the carnage surrounding them and the eventual realization of their true colors by Takigakure, Masumachi would start to sink. This was one of its final days being afloat.

For all of his life, Katsuo Takeuchi had lived here, and he hated every single inch of it. In fact, the things most people found attractive about this pathetic village were what he wanted to destroy more than anything. He hated this village and every single thing it stood for, and the one thing he'd hated more than all of that had been himself for allowing it to be. So when he had gotten word of the world changing, he almost felt happy that this town would soon suffer a similar fate too.

But why?

People were good- no, they were GREAT at forgetting about history and were easily swayed by the whims of temptation. And when you had those two elements cultivated into a luxurious weapon to use against people, it yielded much power. And that's exactly what you got when put into the hands of cannibals.