An Entity Unknown
Mission Rank: E
Mission Type: Solo Self Modded x2
Required Participants: Self
Client: Ichiraku's Noodle Shop
Restrictions: Solo Only
Mission Premise: After an ordinary night shift, and a good bowl of ramen, Nyura is confronted on her way home by a stranger. His intentions are unclear, and after heated words and a short engagement she is forced to flee or suffer a battle she may not win.
Mission Rank: E
Mission Type: Solo Self Modded x2
Required Participants: Self
Client: Ichiraku's Noodle Shop
Restrictions: Solo Only
Mission Premise: After an ordinary night shift, and a good bowl of ramen, Nyura is confronted on her way home by a stranger. His intentions are unclear, and after heated words and a short engagement she is forced to flee or suffer a battle she may not win.
The night had progressed at a tremendous pace; there was hardly time to rest while she bussed the tables to the dishwasher in the back and greeted customers on their arrival. The process was muscle memory at this point, and Nyura's work ethic did not lower in scale at any point through the evening. She'd been there right before the rush, prepping the counter and tables for guests, and was now finishing her shift as the moon reached high into the sky. Audible crickets could be heard in the distance, and a noticeable lack of lit windows upon the surface of many buildings caught her eye. Paying little mind to the trivialities of every day life she felt a surge of relief as she manuvered around the counter to sit down as a customer.
Nyura only had to wait a few minutes and her order was ready. Afterall, it was after hours and she was an employee, an absolutely famished one at that. Indulging in the pleasant taste she'd draw the noodles from her bowl and gather them in her mouth, chewing a few times before swallowing them down. The other staff were nearly finished cleaning and were ready to leave by the time she was done slurping the broth from a bowl carried in cupped hands. Setting it down with a short thud and whiping her lips temporarily on her forearm she'd rise from the stool and offer a wave to those present before walking off down the road with a series of content strides.
"Who's there!" she yelled out, her head darting around the shadowy terrain that had enveloped her for a sign of the aggressor. The shuriken that had been thrown was nearby, one of its prongs still wet with a dab of her blood, hardly visable as a black ichor on its surface as its metallic compesition reflected the minimal light of her surroundings. Hitching an arm upward to feel for the wound, she'd evaluate its severity and find herself with a short lived stinging sensation. It was a fresh cut, a hefty graze, and according to the retort that bellowed out in the distance, echoing and reverberating off the scene, it was a warning shot.
"The next will be fatal if you do not comply."
Whomever spoke was definately male and the tone in which he demanded showed no intention of wasting time. A feeling of panic set in as she was essentially blind in this narrow corridor, and the adrenaline building up brought to life a feeling of fight or flight. Hitching a hand down to her thigh, sliding it upward slightly to the small pouch hidden beneath her apparel, she'd clutch onto a kunai tightly. Drawing it from it's prior position, she'd begin to pace forward with a growing confidence as an eerie silence overcame her. A silhouette came into view as she rounded the corner, a slender figure with a wiry frame and what appeared to be a rather eccentric hair style by the shadow he cast upon the nearby wall, this man was the devil.
WC: 666