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This was a private matter, and he had taken it upon himself to hide the very fact of his comings and goings - he was rightfully so in being a council member to attend to matters around the village, trying to get back to the "100%" Sozin had always been. Mimicking Sozin's punctuality, however, was a tedious and difficult task. To that point, Akira had found a watch that Sozin had kept, and had taken to wearing it - some things were right after all.

But, matters being private, people had not yet noticed that Sozin wasn't using Ninjutsu: not that he had much cause to use it inside the village, but with a paltry salary that needed active missions to go out and earn, Akira had only left the village a handful of times for very small D-rank missions. That sparked some interest, why a Council Member would do so apathetic missions. But, he could not help it.

In his possession, today, was a more literal armoury of weapons. A polearm, a Katana, a shield: a mace. Anything anybody could think of as a weapon was here today, in an arrangement to borrow them provided by one of Kusagakure's old reliable smiths. Akira had used a Kusari-gama in his previous life: and chains in the next. Without use of chakra, he wanted to do something more traditional, and this body was somewhat used to matters of speed and dexterity.

But, one of the laws of Akui was to make them suffer. So, a traditional Katana was out of the way he supposed, unless he took to more depraved manners of killing. Mindful of the time and how little he had, a notepad and pen of the timetable he had to adhere to, he had a few hours to kill. This was a private and owned area, so he did not anticipate anybody to join him in the time it would take, unless they had specific reason to be there.

Even the thought of battle riled Akira: the skinny body he inhabited was light on its feet, a bit of steam exhaling from his breath. He would pick up an axe: Akira had dealt with a large array of weaponry in his time and he held the knowledge. But, his body was not so used to it. Though fast: it was sloppy and the usual degree of precision in maintaining a swipe left to right with the axe was lacking.

This would still take training. But given that he only had a few hours, and he didn't tire on account of his God's boon, he would make use of this time.

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Akira was becoming increasingly aware that Sozin for intents and purposes was fast, but not strong. That would be something Akira needed to remedy - as he swung the axe, it was imperative to remain grounded, but he found himself losing inches from the swings and attacks the follow-up from the weapon brought. Whether sideways and parallel to the floor as though to chop someone in half, or down to bisect them - he found himself taking more steps than necessary. It would have an impact at this stage of what weaponry he chose from for his starting kit... but he couldn't waste a rebirth in lieu of hulking something so stupid around.

He continued using it, swinging it - the use of his God's talents meant that he didn't grow tired, and this wasn't the same as training with Kokuo's chakra where he could continually go: it was just, each action cost nothing to him to do. The man was sure he would falter after hours and hours, but any fight would not last longer than that.

Though no target hit solid marks as he travelled through space around him, the sounds of his breathing, wind being cut and the latent noises from skin contact contracting with muscle against fibre, lots was happening at once. But, he came to an end; the axe just in good shape as when he had picked it up, moved to smaller axes.

Smaller was better: he could hold onto more of them, as well as deliver pain, misery in strikes: but not so deadly if he chose his attacks with precision. The dexterity was a welcome surprise in that it allowed him to quickly manoeuvre, using good footwork and not be pulled to any one direction. Akira wanted to throw one of them but had promised to return them in its original form.

This was just a idea session, for now.

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Having to do all of this again frustrated Akira deeply - he knew it. These strikes had been performed a thousand times and more and he still yet had to redo this all over again. It was the particular nuance of body that he was no longer in. The use of the axe would need to remain untouched if he was to redeliver them back to the blacksmith later. As the time moved on by he was thinking of the wider approach he could take to fighting. Akira had rules to follow. Taking an axe and splitting someone with it was interesting, but it could not go against the service of his Lord and Master.

So, staring down at the different items with him, he would not choose to pick up the weapon today. It was a bit on the heavy side for him right now and he hadn't yet developed the muscles in the right places in order to use them, but he needed to become effective, quickly. Ultimately, he needed something that had an easier entry and he was starting to shy away from some of the heavier and larger equipment. Yes, there was a Katana - he could always have chosen a Katana and many forms of swordsmanship used it... so maybe he would pick it up. Maybe not.

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Akira placed the weapon down quietly and without nuisance. His eyes glanced over the various weaponry - what about a straight sword? The usual Chokuto - it held a better integrity, but was not as pertinent to slicing motions. That was preferential, given that he needed to not bisect someone instantly: he had an interest in maintaining the laws as he had thought to himself earlier.

His hand hovered above the ground - wondering which to take. He ran with his instinct and the sword was picked up: refining through his tastes, they were slowly moving toward lighter equipment. There were blunt weapons... that would also be very good. He decided for himself that it was likely to take that route, but he wanted to explore for a bit longer before making any decisions.

As he began to work with the Chokuto, the straight blade was useful. That couldn't be denied: it was light, balanced, easy to wield - it lacked a bit of range but that wasn't a problem to the God-loving man. It would, or could stand up to many of the modern day weaponry... a good choice. For a time he continued to work with it - moving in circular motions and jutting ones, blocking, dodging and countering.

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The weapons that he was considering moved to their own pile. They were for him to figure out what he wanted from the training session before he got back to the gruelling work (at least, gruelling for the man who had never done it beyond his own former Tsuchikage Assistant duties) and separate political landscape.

The idea of countering was pleasing to him - and as he settled on a club that had a wooden ball at the end of it, a death stick or something it was called: he was able to deliver precise and deadly blunt force trauma - a lot of his movements with it ended up being quite linear and typical of a Katana, and it wasn't able to deliver the oomph. But... he knew it would deliver some bloody results if successful. Bodily horror - that was something that he wanted to impart as well on his enemies, to let them know of their inevitable demise.

Yes - that would be a worthy fighting style for a Herald.

The idea of being unkillable, the idea of being able to get up after someone should be safe - the idea of savouring someone's fear in physical form and then amplifying the emotion was... delicious.

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He wouldn't - couldn't - totally rely on being helped by his God. No, he would have to help himself as well. That meant not being bound by Fuinjutsu: the possibility of people being near him.

The man would have truly killed himself and cast off the arm or head - than to fall subject to something like that again. His wrath could be barely contained against the use of the binding techniques that bound him before. He would no longer be bound.

The use of the club in his hand grew more wild: as he thought about his situation.

He decided, in course, he would use this weapon. Maybe not today: maybe not tomorrow. But it was perfect for his uses - it had the length, the horror. Perfect. That weapon too went to its own pile, beside that of the Chokuto in the next pile over. It was decided. Deigned - chosen. He placed it down, trying to check his own emotions before he carried on - having used his mind and history, with vague memories of his past to guide him. He could only rely on himself and his Lord now. Eyes down on the weapons - his eyes decided on one small weapon... a dagger. The man tentatively picked it up - beginning to judge it.

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The question's he'd had at the start of the day were being answered. It was not heavy, but light. It was good - could have some length if he ordered the right one. In previous missions, he'd stabbed, ended: but now he wasn't there to give them a clean death anymore, and to have someone bleed out in front of him was to his desire - to his liking. He began to work with it, a lot softer than the movements he'd been making earlier. It was good for countering - provided he added a guard.

All of the questions he asked himself were about the design, how did he deliver efficiency, and the other things he desired? In his mind, he began creating the weapon. A hook here, a design there - a mythical creature in flight. Perhaps too poetic... it was light enough to deliver dangerous strikes, was usable in enclosed spaces (unlike that of a Katana) and was useful for anything that wasn't a long range technique. It was easy to carry...

It went in the pile alongside the club. Sozin took a moment to give himself a breath, his body had been working out in modes of minutes each, and he didn't have long before he needed to get back to work.

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These formative hours were so useful to the man - he had designed himself from the bottom up, just as he had so many years before. Just in the teachings and teachers before him, he was choosing the path right for him. A style designed to counter. Though he had placed the dagger down - he knew in his mind that the ebb and flow of battle was chaotic. He would work within that chaos and weave death and destruction in a delicious way to his enemies. Though some faces came to mind, he wordlessly went about selecting more - a one handed hammer? A large axe was one thing but hammers tended to be rather weighty...

He thought about it - considering it. He had been a bit of an "everything user" after his Kusarigama - he always wanted to have a weapon for every situation. It didn't hurt to be someone who prepared for eventualities: and eventually the world would come to know of him as a calamity... there were Fuinjutsu users. Genjutsu users. Long range Ninjutsu users - all of them capable of dealing ferocious damage to him, and he only had precious lives to spare.

After some brief thought, he picked up the hammer.

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It had been his hope at one point in time he had a weapon: used a weapon, purely for the sake of a hammer. That was with another body and he'd had it created to compact Steam ninjutsu into it. But - he wasn't sure where it was now. Akira knew that it had probably been sold, melted down or given away to someone he knew. He had armor, and only gotten to wear it once properly, but otherwise never had the opportunity to use it in combat. That was another shame. Those were the kinds of thoughts going on in his mind as he tried to train - but he had not properly used a hammer even in a previous life.

Up, down - side to side, to break a rib, to concave a chest. There were some spinning hammer movements, like Akira himself had used in fights - only, it would be one's chest succumbing to metal. A painful way to go. But as ninja, they tended to pick the items that would do exactly that. The weapon did go down in the Chokuto pile but otherwise he was starting to come to a close with what he needed for now. When he had a list of things to work with - he would work on them exclusively next. From there when he felt he was proficient enough, then he could go on to expand his repertoire...

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It felt like something was missing as he thought about all the different types of weaponry he had brought with him - for now though, he would return to the dagger. The dagger was just an all around good idea: and chose to practise with that. Though there were plenty of weapons to choose from he definitely had made a choice there - it was so... personal.

Akira made the choice to spend the rest, or most - of his practise using the dagger. Going through the various motions, closing a distance to attack, going the mile: spending many different scenarios where he would take advantage of the lulls of combat. A jab underneath the armpit: a slice across the belly when dodging from an attack. He held some people in his mind as he exercised - seeing how they would try and rush at him, he would be more than happy to meet an attack with an attack.

He drew familiarity from it. It was unlike some of the other things he'd used in his past but this was what called to him at this point in time. But something was still missing and he couldn't figure it out - how did he deliver the will of his Lord?

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It was getting to a frustrating point that as he worked - his mind was occupied with other things. He hadn't much time left. What about defensive weaponry? He could've picked up a shield... did a shield - was that against their creeds? He thought long and hard about it. It didn't - but he didn't really want a shield, it didn't portray sheer terror as much as it did defence, and he wanted to be the calamity that sent people fleeing... and not as someone who needed a shield.

But maybe that would change in the future: what if he needed to defend against particularly powerful shinobi? That would happen one day or another and he would want something to protect himself with... but then again, a strong offence would beat any defence or did it? It was a difficult conversation to have with oneself. It was like he hadn't even figured out his feet from his hands and although a few months had passed - this didn't feel like his own skin yet. He didn't want to embody something that wasn't him... and then the most devious thought popped into his mind, to combine the two.

What if he could combine an offensive weapon with a defensive one? How did that work? The Arm of God would roll his tongue inside his mouth in consideration.

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And it was decided - he needed something fit for purpose. An idea came to mind... but he would need to do some drawings to see it come to fruition.

It was - oh. He let out an aloof noise of joy as he complimented his own sense of style, the idea of - yes. It just worked so beautifully.

He would have his own set of weaponry. He had fists - sure. But he would have weapons of destruction beyond his own body, fit for that of a herald.

Something that he could defend with: hurt with, counter with. Something that could deal with the blight of chakra and something that could render enemies naked before his Lord. So he would see the true them before they passed.

It was an element of barbarism that even he thought himself incapable of: but Akira was something entirely different now. Standing there in the middle of a training field - he stood above the set of chosen weaponry, considering his choices.

Yes. This was right. It felt right. He would deal with all of this later - the clock of his training centre area struck, casting out a metallic noise of his time being up. Well. He would come back here later to collect his things - or send someone to do them. It was easy...

After all, who didn't want to have a Councillor on their side?

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