Working to break my stories into 4chan character limits is way too fucking hard. Hope you still enjoy, but I didn't think about the character length while editing until too late so won't be trimming it down enough to fit into the two pictured posts.


All he'd ever truly wanted was respect from his peers. Always a bit of a runt, as a boy he kept himself fed—barely—by pickpocketing the caravan guards and passersby making their way through his hometown of Clownsteady. He'd dreamed of one day becoming a Shinobi, recognized as a scout and assassin worthy of others' fear—after all, that too was a form of respect. Of course, none of them would consort with some pissant like him, at least not without coughing up a membership fee. Aware he'd never make the cats without venturing into the dangers of the wasteland beyond Clownsteady's walls, the boy—now a young man—set out at dawn, with naught but a rusted piece of iron and a new name for himself—Cutter. He'd let none stand in his way, cut through all before him.

The rest of the world, however, hadn't heard Cutter's inspired reasoning. Hours after leaving the comfort of civilization, he was already running for his life, a pack of blood spiders practically tasting his heels. Yet the brush with death wasn't without reward—they'd been attracted to the scent of blood, some skirmish a day or two past. Cutter'd been there first, and found himself a real sword within the carnage.