Bound [Private | Cabal | Mission]

[Rakujo Yumeko]

​

Naikishin would listen the man as he would call towards the door and having brought that the turn-down service here sucked. He would growl slightly, getting cut off by the main that was surging from his hand. The mans interest seemed to have been piqued, but he wouldn't say anything more for the time being, though he would feel the man tap the jaw end of the pliers off his exposed cleavage. Shouki asked him what he was doing in another terminal village. "I didn't even know what was going on by the time I had arrived here." He said, panting still. Though soon, the man had reached for his belt, and had relinquished pressure from his right hand, causing the fingers that had their nails removed to have a jolt of pain. As that had happened, the man had pulled on it, the moment that Shiori had swung a hammer at his head. The belt would break upon the pull, and he would soon reach for Shiori, grabbing her, and hurling her over his shoulder and into him.

As for Shiori landing on him, now would be a good time to have been happy about being a female, due to Shiori's elbow landing where it would have seriously hurt. Either way, the moment that Shiori had landed on him, the chair would topple over, causing Naikishin to have a dull pain of the chair hitting the ground, his head hitting the ground, and Shiori's knee hitting him in the face, though luckily her knee didn't hit his injured eye. He had heard Shiori as if he was alright. "Y-yeah..." He said, through a pained groan.

Though after that, Shouki had spoke, as he spoke to Shiori, and had soon yelled back at the door as the knocking continued. After picking Shiori up, he would soon face them to the barrel and soon dunk Shiori into the water. The man would wait until she had stopped moving before pulling her from the water, and dropping her on the floor.

The lock on the door started rattling, and had caused Shouki to state that it was too early for the cavalry. What cavalry did a man like this need? Naikishin would watch as Shouki readjusted his pants, and recovered his blade from the wall, and answered the door, glaring at Shouki, and having noticed that Shouki had lowered his weapon and pointed at him, after his eyes widened.

 

[Mikaboshi]

((Here as part of the mission, for the record.))

Nishikari Kubo was not a smart man but he'd always prided himself on being able to see an opportunity when it presented itself. He'd inherited the establishment that he owned from his late mother who had come down with an sudden and tragically terminal case of being smothered with a pillow in the middle of the night by someone that she trusted and since then allowed his family's business to become a wretched hive of scum and villainy within the village. He'd become known somewhat in the underbelly of Sunagakure as a man who was discreet with the secrets of those who were willing to pay him to keep his mouth shut and as a result his tiny little hotel -- the Black Beetle -- was a buzzing center of illicit business and criminal activity. As a result of his dealing with the seedy side of Sunagakure's Black Bazaar on a regular basis he'd also found himself well known with the ANBU of Sunagakure as well even though they'd never amassed enough evidence to actually do anything to him. They regularly shook him down for information and occasionally he'd let something slip -- just enough to make himself useful enough to keep them from shutting him down but never enough to make the wrong people mad -- and he hated them for that. Stoked a burning bitterness towards them, in fact. So when a flame-haired young man had come into his wonderful establishment with a pair of shinobi in hand clearly meaning to do Primus knows what terrible and unspeakable things to them... he couldn't help but give the man the highest form of gratitude he could think of.

A discount.

Something seemed to have changed between then and the current moment as it was Nishikari Kubo who stood in the doorway of Shouki's den of torture with a haunted look in his eyes and a blue-ish hue in his cheeks as if he'd just come in from standing out in the freezing wind for hours on end. He said nothing but his breathing was rapid and short, clearly indicating that something was strange. He had his right hand against the smooth steel of the basement room's door, leaning against it as it seemed as if he were having some great difficulty in standing at the moment, and in his left hand's corpulent fingers were grasped a crinkled piece of white paper that shook nervously.

"G-G-Got something for y-ya." Stammered Kubo, lifting his hand to offer the piece of paper to Shouki... and seemingly without notice to the fact that Shouki was holding a weapon to someone's throat. In between his messages he was mumbling to himself, impossible for either Shouki or Naikishin to hear... but Shiori would hear nearly incoherent rambling as a combination of swears and curse words intermixed among what sounded like a plea for freedom and safety. Closing his eyes and swallowing hard, Kubo raised his arm and held the paper out to Shouki as his shaking became uncontrollable. "M-Message f-f-f-er-- you..."

 

[Sand Council]

Shouki<i></i>​

"If you want money old man, I'll send you whatever your usual fee is with interest,"</B><i></i> Shouki announced. He was not surprised that the manager was about to renege on their deal, but he could tell that this was the kind of place that harbored a great many secrets and what he was about to do here was far from the most macabre circumstance in this hotel's history. Actually, no... this would be by the time he was done with them. The giant blade lingered as Isaki's throat, threatening to spill the unfortunate young woman's bodily fluids onto this nice... unclean floor.

"G-G-Got something for y-ya."

The manager stammered. The man looked like he saw a ghost, perhaps rightfully so considering the scene before him. The almost dead woman on the ground, suffering from hypothermia and anoxia perhaps who has failed to yet stir. Perhaps he had paused permanent damage or killed her. Oops... The other, already missing an eye and a small pile of bloodied fingernails was already starting to form. The tools of the trade, mostly lined up neatly in the open box less the few he had already employed such as the ice-pick that skewered Shiori's leg or the misplaced pair of pliers that had been used to torment Naikishin. A hammer and a large corkscrew at the top of the miscellaneous wares found in the box, lengths of ninja-wire coiled and knotted between. <B>"Already, what does that damnable woman want now," Shouki muttered, his mind immediately went to Fuu.

"We... still have much to discuss," Shouki warned Naikishin. "So don't worry your pretty little head, just sit tight and I will be right back." Shouki wanted to know what he was doing in the Obsidian Palace, how he was associated with the Steward and the pretty interrogator. Was she or rather he the kind of person they valued or the kind they would want dead? He did not know what to make of her, so stubborn and for what reason. He lowered his blade, but as he did so it nicked Isaki's cheek. It was a 'purposeful mistake,' the requirement to maintain Isaki's suffering even if mildly so in his absence. The knowledge that he enjoys inflicting pain and the fact that he required little reason to do so was that he wanted this woman to believe. Procuring information was a secondary task, his primary being visible damages, the kind that others would find offensive and terrible. The kind that would make his enemies... oh that is such a strong word, rather marks... blood boil.

"M-Message f-f-f-er-- you..."

The shaking of the manager was ...unmanageable. HA! All the same, the little bit of paper went up and then down and the side to side. "Stop screwing around old man," Shouki complained as he snatched the message from Nishikari and unfolded the small cream-colored scrap and read the contents. "Huh?" His brow furrowed as he was left to wonder the meaning of the mysterious note.

 

[Michi]

OC: Not much to say - wake up next post.

IC:
Shiori remained unconscious. She had tried to break free twice already, each time she was met with failure. She was cold and wet, her mind did not want her to arouse - not again. Shouki had brought the unfortunate woman close to her limit, moments more and there would have been no going back as she faded into the sands. Her mind refused to turn back on, or perhaps she was playing possum. No, she was truly out cold - once that door was ajar she would have bolted for freedom. Her body, however was enjoying this respite from the adrenaline and pain. The concrete floor as soft as a feather bed.

In and out, her rhythmic breathing continued on...

The incessant beat of her own heart like a drum.

Her body buzzing with sound, but no song. ​

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

Naikishin would listen to Shouki as he spoke to the person at the door, still holding the blade to his neck. Still panting, Naikishin would continue to hold a glare at the man who held the weapon to his neck, not moving much. As the man told him that they still had much to discuss, and that he'd be right back. When the man had lowered his blade from his neck, he would 'accidentally' nicked his cheek, and would only wince as it was calm compared to the rest of what he had experienced since waking up in this hellhole.

As the man had read the piece of paper that had been handed to him, Naikishin continued to shoot a glare at Shouki, though he would try to pull up at the restraint on his left wrist, but quickly stopped due to the injury on his left arm. But even with the short amount of time he tried to pull, he would have done so with a good amount of strength, but not having had done it for more than a few mere seconds.

 

[Mikaboshi]

For the first time perhaps in his entire existence, the expression on Kubo's face made it clear that he was not interested in the money that Shouki was offering him. The one thing he wanted in the entire world, more than anything else, was for the mercenary to come forth and take the note that he was offering with his trembling sausage-like fingers. His mouth opened as if to say something else but suddenly shut as if he'd instantly thought better of it. It was the sort of reaction that one might have to lifting a rock and finding a venomous serpent coiling beneath it judging from the absolute horror that drifted across his pock-marked features. To Kubo's credit he squashed the strange fit of terror with a hard swallow and shook the note emphatically as Shouki lowered his blade and began to saunter over to where the fat hotel manager stood in the gateway to the room.

The note itself was largely unremarkable in size and texture. It felt as if it had been torn out of a book of some kind, thick leafed and coarse, and was folded over itself in half presumably to add some form of bizarre suspense to the even more bizarre situation. Sweat poured from Kubo's skin as Shouki stood near him and slowly unfolded the note, regarding it in the process as he read it's contents. Kubo knew what it said. Understood what it meant. After all, it had been his hand that had written the note... even though it wasn't by his will that his hand had done so.

"Huh?"

Shouki's baffled response to the message hung in the air for only a moment... before the human offal known around town as Nishikari Kubo detonated spraying the room with a fine mist of gore and revealing a hidden passenger that had been contained within the fat loser's body the entire time. Large spectral wings loomed from the shoulderblades as the imposing black robes and biting shadows of Mikaboshi -- the Sunagakurian ANBU Sennin and Warden of the Obsidian Palace -- poured forth from the decimated remains of the low-life that he'd Combined with to make his dramatic entrance. In the space of seconds during which Shouki was presumably surprised to find himself face-to-cowl with the beast that the Cabal had been warned scores of times not to come into direct confrontation with, Mikaboshi raised his right hand and with a gesture called the shadows living in the room to his service with the intention to entangle Shouki within a cage of living shadows that would devour his spiritual energy while they grasped at his limbs and prevented him from moving.

"Surprise."​

 

[Sand Council]

Shouki</COLOR><i></i>​

Shouki guffawed at the cryptic little note, crumbling the paper scrap in his hand and casting it aside. "Surprise," he echoed the message's simple single term. "What surprise old man?"</B><i></i> His voice laced with irritation as he awaited the obviously jarred manager's response.

As if it was awaiting that exact query, a sickening *pop* broke the brief silence that followed. It sounded as if a cork was pulled from a bottle of champagne as the form that was once Mister Nishikari burst. A fine red cloud sprayed the landing and the threshold. The display best likened to a macabre series of party streamers and confetti. The gore stuck to the door frame and the walls adjacent like a rorschach ink blot - he saw a pony... on fire eating a small child. Or a butterfly, it was always hard to tell.

It has been said before: <COLOR color="red">RED is my favorite color.​

The quivering, still upright remains Nishikari Kubo house a shadow and gloom that stretched and spread. Wings emerged from Kubo's broken form as the edges of a specter or demon extended from the filthy fleshy vessel. Dark pinions fanned out as a cowl'd apparition emerged. This was a suprise. Shouki's eyes widened and brightened at the spectacle -- it was as if someone knew that it was his birthday! It wasn't... he was certainly no Gemini, but as they as: 'it is the thought that counts.' Shouki already knew who or rather what he was facing and it made him ...excitable. Rumors and tales spread quickly even in a nation as large and as divided as Wind Country, despite the natural treachery that was the maelstrom.

"Not what I was expecting... Not that I am complaining,"<i></i> Shouki quickly added with a smirk as he eyed his potential combatant and then his giant-blade from his periphery. "Welp, this is somewhat awkward,"<i></i> Shouki exhaled. "I am somewhat busy torturing these two pretty dames,"<i></i> Shouki explained as he pointed at the woman bound to the chair and the other sprawled out unconscious on the floor. "And they were here first."<i></i>

Meanwhile, what little there was left to the unfortunate manager fell forward and landed on the stairs with a sickening *thump.* Shouki stepped to the side wordless as the ruptured remains slid lifelessly down the rickety stairs before resting against the back of Naikishin's chair. Without a sound from the Ancient, shadows emerged from the floor, scraping and grasping. A bitter chill emanated the barely corporeal limbs, as their twisted ethereal fingers wrapped around his legs. "So waiting your turn is not an option I assume?" Shouki asked, a glint in his eyes as a contorted arm wrapped around his own and pulled it straight. Shouki let out a perverse raspy chuckle, <B>"finally." <i></i>

Such a technique was limiting to then both, something Shouki was firmly aware of. The ANBU Sennin could not attack without relinquishing his hold and even if he failed to make an attack, in time through shear force of will Shouki would break free. In the meantime, a tête-à-tête was in order. "Sunagakure's hound sent in the Steward's stead?"<i></i> Shouki prodded. "How in the world did the children of those who betrayed you all those years ago become your allies?"<i></i> Shouki preferred to be on the receiving end of a little pain once in awhile anyways and it was to this masochist that the former Deep Court Lord would cater. "From master to slave over a matter of centuries and being alive through it all."<i></i> He taunted, hoping to break the will of his visitor for a mere moment as that was all he would need.

 

[Michi]

Shiori groaned as she regained consciousness, coughing up a mouthful of dirty water onto the floor. She grasped at the wet concrete with her hands. She looked up from the floor near Isaki's feet where Shouki had dropped her. She was disoriented as she looked up and saw Isaki's leg, her hands blindly searched for something - a weapon of any kind. The only weapon she had found was the one still attached to her, the ice-pick Shouki had used to skewer Shiori's leg. The leg still throbbed but the pain was not nearly as raw, but it returned in waves as she pulled the only thing keeping her sand within her veins. Crimson sand poured from her wound and spilled onto the floor as she gripped the long thick pick in her small trembling, cold hand and stabbed Naikishin in the foot ...twice before she noticed the ninja wire that was wrapped around Isaki's ankles that restrained him to the astonishingly durable metal chair.

"Fuck,"</B><i></i> Shiori hissed as she realized her error and looked up to see Shouki's back to them both as he was engaged in a discussion with an older man. The room was cold she realized just then, unnaturally so. Was it from being soaked with water, her white dress clung to her as she noticed a faint sign of frost on the edges of her fingers and the wrinkles of her saturated gown. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized this, she knew what he was the moment before he revealed himself. In this case, Shiori was not feeling relief but rather panic. There was very bad -- Shouki. Then there was even worse -- Mikaboshi. How did he find them? Had he followed them here, never engaging the madman when he fought Sousuke and company and waiting several hours. After they had regained consciousness and after Souki had a little bit of 'fun'? It sounded about right. Was Mikaboshi here to finish them off? Had he allied with Shouki or the Cabal at large?

Shiori took a deep breath as her numb fingers pulled at the distal wire around Isaki's uninjured foot. She could try to run now but they were in the way and there were safety in numbers. She pulled the knot away, her clumsy near-frozen fingers forced the wire to relinquish the grasp on her dungeon-mate's leg. Shiori's hand pressed down on Isaki's thigh as Shiori used her leg as a handhold to pull herself partially upright. Shiori's fingers tugged at Naikishin's wrist but her body was frigid and unable to break the bind without some assistance from Naikishin. <B>"Sorry," Shiori apologized for the earlier stabbing as quietly as she could while still being heard by the prisoner before her. If Naikishin pulled with Shiori perhaps they both would break the ninja wire that was tying her wrists to the chair.

There were some variables Shiori had not fully consider of course that warranted concern: Would Naikishin react violently to her once free? Would Shouki notice her attempts to free Naikisin and stop them? Would Mikaboshi stop hr from attempting to free Naikisin? Was Mikaboshi here to finish them both off? Take a turn? Be the unlikely hero of this story?

WC: 539

MFT

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

Naikishin watched as Shouki had received a note, in which he would read and the man who had handed it to him would soon seemingly explode and sprayed the room with a fine mist of blood. He would notice that there was someone who had apparently been a hidden passenger, and as he had appeared he would have used a jutsu that prevented Shouki from moving, more or less. Though when it had happened, part of the remains from the man had stopped at the back of his chair when after sliding down the stairs.

She would listen to Shouki as he spoke to the man, though soon, he would notice that Shiori had coughed up some water onto the floor. She would move around, before having removed the ice pick from her leg and had tried to free him from the chair, or at least a leg, where she would accidentally stab him in the foot. Twice. Both times hurt quite a bit, though it was just enough for Naikishin to stifle his sounds after the stab wounds now on his foot from Shiori.

Naikishin would feel Shiori trying to help undo the wire that was around his wrist after having used his leg to help stand up. He would listen to the woman apologize again. "I need a little time..." He would whisper to Shiori as she tried to break the binds around his wrist. He just needed a little more time, though only Naikishin knew what for, aside from an attempt to break free, but for the time being he would need to catch his breath, after having been dunked in the ice water so many times, and let his body rest for a moment.

 

[Mikaboshi]

[col]"Your taunts are as predictable and un-creative as your hiding place." Remarked Mikaboshi as he craned his head to the side to look past Shouki into the room where Suna and Naikishin were being held. He could smell the scent of blood in the air and quickly surmised a handful of things about the prey that he had come to the inn to hunt. It was would have been impossible to miss the throw-down which happened within the darkness of the Obsidian Palace -- at least with the amount of fireworks which had been thrown around in terms of chakra usage. The Palace consumed a great deal of the energy that had been expended but just the same Mikaboshi had felt the reverberations of that battle within the walls of the Palace and like a huge black spider sitting upon a web of darkness and death he had gone to investigate putting him on the trail of Shouki and his kidnapped shinobi.

Admittedly, he had not been expecting to find Suna here in such a compromised position. Waving his hand, the shadows holding Shouki would shift him off to the side -- rather roughly bumping him into the wall to make way for their sovereign --as he breezed past the terrorist to loom over the detained shinobi who were doing their best to try and not be noticed by the two very dangerous individuals which had seemed to be squaring off to take possession of them. He paid no mind to Naikishin as the mercenary had given him no reason to bother caring about her yet and instead focused his attention upon Suna.

'Tell me that this is not what it looks like." He glowered, his voice low and teeming with disappointment. "Tell me that you were not brought low by this human offal."

He gestured over his shoulder at Shouki while he spoke. He had no idea that Shouki had been a member of the now all-but-dissolved Cabal group which was likely good for Shouki's health for Mikaboshi still stoked a white-hot grudge against them for having put him in a cage for any period of time. He'd taken the personal confinement that they'd inflicted upon him personally to a terrifyingly great extent and was eager to visit suffering upon any of the Cabal he could find alone and vulnerable. A few of them stood out to him but there was a new player in town -- one that he had not yet come to full understanding of -- and that Sousuke heeded that one's counsel so easily was enough to convince Mikaboshi that he would need to gauge the situation further before blundering into it.

"Explain how you find yourself in this situation and do so with the clear understanding that I may decide that I am angry enough to gut all three of you and raze this building to the ground around you."|[legend="[[b][u]OOC Notes[/u][/b]] - [[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeHnbW0I__M]SCENE BGM[/url]]"]

Mikaboshi - Sand ANBU Sennin (Council NPC)

[/legend][/col]

 

[Sand Council]

OC: Not much for me here.

IC:

Shouki<i></i>​

Beautiful People -- Manson

"Your taunts are as predictable and un-creative as your hiding place."

Mikaboshi announced but Shouki only sneered. "Perhaps," Shouki replied as he started to pull against the shadows. "Here I thought the Steward and his men would come and maybe this time give me a decent fight,"</B><i></i> Shouki added eluding to the recent battle mere hours earlier that left the Kazekage and his allies unconscious. This game of cat and mouse where he lets the mouse pretend to be the cat while he taunts them with some cheese. Sorry ladies, you are nothing more than a pile of stale cheese in my book. Shouki fought against the shadows, the Cabal member was a man of brute power and endurance. Still they held him gloriously tight. "But usually I expect dinner and a show before I let anyone get grabby, so don't think I am going to put out... I am not this cheap,"<i></i> Shouki quipped. In all reality, dinner be dammed - he loved this shit. His anticipation was swelling for certain.

The ancient, however, seemed to have a different quarry. His long pallid neck craned to the side past Shouki and into the room. "Eyes here buddy," Shouki complained as the Sennin eyed the ladies to his posterior. Sure, they were hot when bleeding but that hardly accounted rude behavior. With a flick of the wrist, Shouki was cast aside and the shadows dissipated like mist. His shoulder had crashed into the stone wall, leaving a crack where the behemoth of a man impacted the un-moving barrier.

Mikaboshi's attention seemed to be on something besides the game as he descended the staircase and Shouki gave the ladies and intruder a sour expression. The Jashinist sighed and brushed himself off, he was going to have to use his blade sooner than expected. "There is supposed to be a protocol for this -- you fight ME then IF you live or I get bored you save the girl... girls?"<i></i> Shouki complained, remembering that he somehow ended up with two women instead of one. Usually that does not happen until the first is bisected, but ...whatev's. He hoisted his great-blade over his shoulder.

The ancient was scolding one of his prisoners over her apparent ineptitude. "PAY attention to me!" Shouki snapped, his face reddened and his eyes bloodshot. <B>"This is not how you play the game!"<i></i> He roared, his sword scraped against the wall leaving a trail of sparks in its wake as he prepared to fight.

 

[Michi]

"I need a little time..."

Naikishin whispered to Shiori as she tried to break him free. "We have no time," Shiori hissed kneeling beside him as she fumbled with the wire that dug into the Mercenary's wrists. They were distracted, 'they' being Shouki and Mikaboshi both, neither were their ally and the ancient whose introduction was most gruesome was certainly not the hero of this tale. "They are going to kill us,"</B><i></i> Shiori reminded her through gritted teeth. But she would not have long, her bloodied fingernails and burnt wrists failed to unknot the ties about Isaki's limbs before a greater threat descended upon them. She did not need to hear his approach or look in his direction as the overwhelming chill started to frost over her. Still wet from the barrel, the deathly cold air turned her lips a pale blue and left her body shuddering for warmth.

'Tell me that this is not what it looks like."

Mikaboshi abased. Shiori let out a sigh, she was in no condition to give him a shrewd retort. Half-frozen and drowned, her body felt like she was assaulted with a pillowcase of nickles and sand dripped from her the holes in both of her legs. It was pretty much what it looked like - her fingers bloodied from tiny nicks as she tried to free her cellmate, her fingernails broken and torn. Her cheeks were burned much like her wrists, marring what was until recently a rather pretty face. Her normally immaculate appearance, disheveled -- her long fiery locks matted tangles on the back of her head and her white dress dirtied, bloodied and torn.

"Tell me that you were not brought low by this human offal."

"Then I won't say,"<i></i> Shiori replied, her voice raspy as she struggled to stand using Isaki's chair to brace her ascent. Much like a fawn learning to stand fresh from its mother's womb. Mikaboshi's presence was like standing in a blizzard wearing nothing at all. Her teeth chattered as her heel scraped against the floor as she turned her ankle in the correct anatomical position. Her body separated Naikishin from the Deep Court Lord, but she lacked the speed in this defeated state to stop the fellow Ancient. Her face was defiant despite the uncertainty in her heart, this was a moment where fate was only going to determine which of the pair would kill them not an opportunity for survival. She did not fear death, she did not welcome it either nor did she look forward to the pains of said demise. Ancients, less Homura and Fuujin it would seem do not die or at least they do not remain dead. Resurrection, however was a fickle thing. Life could take years, even decades to find a way. By the time she lived again, a generation or more could have easily of passed and she had attachments to those in this generation.

"Death was a better option than an eternity inside the Ebon Blade,"<i></i> Shiori finally answered through chattering teeth, her voice laced with scorn but for a moment it was not entirely directed against the intrusive Ancient Lord. She was referencing a day not long ago, a day she died but did not remain dead for more than a few moments. She had consumed the essence of an injudicious magnanimous women without even realizing. It may sound selfish to admit it, but she did not feel bad. She did not feel guilty, rather she felt malefaction in that she felt no remorse. When she remembered -what- she was. When she incautiously admitted to Sousuke who or what she was only to have one of his secrets revealed: Mikaboshi was a possession of the Steward's. When or how were both questions she never dared ask, but since that edifying moment she was not able to look at her 'cousin' the same. The sinews of her heart tugged in one direction, but her senses another. She was not human.

"B-But, a b-better question to a-ask you L-lord of the D-deep C-court," Shiori stammered through dithering teeth in the arctic chill, <B>"how will your m-master take the m-murder of his b-beloved cousin at your h-hand?"<i></i> She did not know the covenant made between the Ancient and the Steward, only that Mikaboshi was a man of deals and that shadows manipulate and cast unexpected images but they never lie... only distort. Every ancient had a limitation, something she knew well. She did not know of the looming war, how she would be prevented by her own nature from intervening. It was this aspect of her nature that humanity erroneously celebrated as they thought her their ally rather than enemy. There was a time in the distant past that Mikaboshi, however was the 'kind' one or at least had sympathies for these humans. How time has changed them both.

She wondered if Mikaboshi was sent by her cousin or if he had done such of his own accord. Being the prideful and dangerous entity he was, she hoped for the former as the later meant that Sousuke would not know that Mikaboshi was ever here. Even the manager had not lived long enough to serve as a witness. There was the matter of Shouki, the Cabal brute that could be stopped if Sousuke and his allies understood the limits of blood-magic. Unfortunately, they fought favoring the Jashinist's forte. The damage recoiled being enough knock every one of them out. Enough to kill them if the madman has wanted which led her to question now that searing pain as not flowing through her body -- why were they alive and playing this sick, twisted game? Madmen rarely get far, this man was more than a psychopath from what she understood. He wanted to be found. Why, was another question entirely.

All the same, the Jashinist was enraged and Shiori was upright and free. Her dress frozen stiff, biting at her with an icy chill. Her hands still before her, fingers inches apart awaiting a sign on who or what to fight.

WC: 1010

MFT

 

[Michi]

In a few minutes it will be 5 days. Mikaboshi -- I am fine with moving this thread on without him because we have time constraints here.

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

[Placeholder - Sorry, I've been dealing with things. Will post soon.]

 

[Mikaboshi]

[col]"You." Responded Mikaboshi as he turned and stopped Shouki's blow in mid-swing with a collection of his chakra. Kinetic power swirled and raged around the steel of Shouki's sword, holding the force of his swing in place as Mikaboshi turned to regard the man. "Have fundamentally misapprehended this situation. You fancy yourself the black knight having kidnapped a pair of damsels in distress and seem to have mistaken me for some kind of avenging hero. I am not your white knight, cretin. If we are but characters in a story then I am the dragon to your rogue knight. The devil to your scheming sorcerer. Either leave or cease your mewling. I do not care which."

And with his scathing assessment of Shouki's tantrum done, Mikaboshi released his blade and then curled the air into an invisible fist with the intention of slamming the Cabal agent out of the room through the still open door. He could take the time to step on Shouki but in the end he just wasn't interested enough to do that. He'd found in the last few months that his time was at a significant premium which he could no longer afford to spend on trivial pursuits. Whether or not Shouki was hit by the blast of air and chakra that Mikaboshi had sent his way, the ancient lord would return his attention entirely to Suna whom was doing her best to avoid his inquisition.

"The Steward-Kazekage is a means to an end, nothing more and nothing less. His approval is not a factor." Growled Mikaboshi. Even though Shouki's taunts had rolled off of Mikaboshi like drops of rain, it seemed as if Suna's allusion to his binding pact with Sousuke had touched a nerve. He resented that relationship he held with the Steward more and more as time went on as Sousuke pilfered power from the Black Blade and joined it with his own all the while pretending that they were allies. The Lord of the Deep Court was a patient sort of being but as the terms of the pact he'd formed with Sousuke evolved he found that they chafed against his pride more and more. "What Sousuke does not know will not trouble him."

As Mikaboshi's intent became clear with his words, the room would erupt with the pressure of his existence which was normally kept wrapped within his physical form. Gloom poured from his limbs and into the air around him obscuring his body behind a screen of quivering shadows and leaped and jerked with a life of their own. Still, the temperature in Mikaboshi's immediate presence would drop even lower making things like moving properly or concentrating difficult within the blistering chill of death that the dark creature summoned to his command. In the confusion of Mikaboshi's suddenly unleashed dark presence, the ancient lord would lash forward with his right hand with the intention of reaching past Suna's raised hands to grasp her exposed throat. If he managed to do that, all of his malice and anger would pour from his fingertips into her mind and heart to weaken her resolve and manifest her fears around them as the chorus of shades that Mikaboshi had called took up arms around them like the taunting goons of a school yard bully as his voice hissed out a condemnation of her.

"This is not how I remember you. First you take a human name and pretend to be one of them. Then you shame yourself in defeat by this mortal malcontent. Perhaps I am mistaken and you are not the Desert Queen. Perhaps she slumbers someplace deep within your psyche and I will find her if I peel back enough layers of human filth piled on top of her. Let's find out, shall we?"|[legend="[[b][u]OOC Notes[/u][/b]] - [[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeHnbW0I__M]SCENE BGM[/url]]"]

Mikaboshi - Sand ANBU Sennin (Council NPC)

I waited a full 24 hours following the placeholder. There are others waiting on this topic beyond me.

Also the success of Mikaboshi's actions is dictated by those that they're aimed at.[/legend][/col]

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

Naikishin listened to the new arrival speak, and had soon told Shiori to explain how she had found herself in the situation. Though given everything, his body had started to feel quite numb, mainly from having been dunked in the ice water more than Shiori had, as well as the cold that the new arrival had caused the area to feel just by being there. Shouki would soon speak though even now, she wouldn't pay attention to him, even him now loose from whatever the new arrival had bound him with.

Shiori would speak to the new arrival and had soon stopped trying to get him free, using the chair to help stand up. Soon after all the speaking was done and even the new actions that the new arrival had happened, causing the immediate area around him even colder, Naikishin would slow his breathing even while panting still. While in this state, it would almost seem as if a switch had been hit for him, rendering him only partially conscious.

His breathing would continue to stay relatively steady for a moment before stopping for a quick moment before his facial expression turned to a smirk and aside from breathing, laughing could be heard coming from him. Though the laughing would only last for a few moments, the smirk would continue, and Naikishin's uninjured eye would look in front him, and he would quickly pull against the wire that was holding him to the chair. In the current state he was in, he didn't feel any pain, but then again, his body felt completely normal, aside from the eye. Everything that had happened recently had stacked up on Naikishin and had simply put his mind on the brink... Depending on the wire, Naikishin would either break out of them real fast or take some time. Naikishin didn't know, nor was he thinking about much while on the edge of insanity.

 

[Sand Council]

Shouki<i></i>​

His blood was pumping, he was throbbing with anticipation for a fight. His long, pointed tongue ran over his lips as he savored the foreplay. His giant-blade weapon hoisted over his shoulder, the weight of the hilt pressed into his massive, defined shoulder. With a deep shuddering breath he waited for the 'monster' to make his first move.

"You."

The Ancient rumbled. The great-blade swung, but not under Shouki's own power. While the weapon never left the Cabal member's grasp it scraped against the wall leaving in its wake a trail of white-hot sparks.

"Have fundamentally misapprehended this situation. You fancy yourself the black knight having kidnapped a pair of damsels in distress and seem to have mistaken me for some kind of avenging hero. I am not your white knight, cretin. If we are but characters in a story then I am the dragon to your rogue knight. The devil to your scheming sorcerer. Either leave or cease your mewling. I do not care which."

Shouki's face dropped noticeably and his eyes shown a spark of something but it only lasted for a moment. "I would rather fight still," Shouki pouted. "My muscles versus... your... angry-asshole magic," Shouki offered. A half-smile across his face. He relished a good fight like some men relished fine wine... a pretty lady... a tub of Vaseline. In fact, who needs any of these things when you have a good fight? People have always said that he 'had a problem.' A 'problem' with authority. A 'problem' with hurting little woodland creatures. A 'problem' hurting women, children... doing very bad things to them. And never once did he deny these crimes, but the truth be told it was not that fun to rape, pillage and murder. The fun came after - when the angry villagers, loved ones and self-righteous asshats looking to make a name for themselves came out of the woodwork to give him 'what was coming to him.' Good-times... good times.

"The Steward-Kazekage is a means to an end, nothing more and nothing less. His approval is not a factor."

Shouki had already lost Mikaboshi's interest it would appear. The dynamics between the Lord and the Steward were however... fascinating. Shouki regrettably started to lower his weapon. 'Fucking blue-balling me...' he mentally griped. Despite being a deviant and a pervert, he was first a soldier. It was a chosen vocation, considering his lineage he could have been anything he desired be it a scholar, a leader, or even a magnate in Soons but none of them would support his external interests as this did.

"What Sousuke does not know will not trouble him."

Shouki had found himself in the middle of a personal dispute or so it would seem from his point of view. The arrogant and chaffed Ancient Sennin, famed more for what he was not (human) and the legend (of the Deep Court) rather than his terrible nature. Shouki could not help but smile as the former Ancient Lord not only patronized him but renounced his allegiance (not that it would appear he ever had any) to Sunagakure and the Kazekage. "Any not-friend of Sunagakure is... well still not my friend, but not an enemy of mine either,"</B><i></i> Shouki commented as he rested the tip of his blade against the floor and leaned on it curiously as he watched this drama unfold. He could care less if the Ancient had his fun, the more bruised and bloodied the girls were the more pissed off their 'white knights' would be when they arrived and maybe if he was lucky... this time they would put up a decent fight. Maybe.

The one-eyed whore still sat in her chair. She had not made any real effort to escape it would seem despite her debilitating injuries. He sauntered to Isaki's side, his giant-blade dragging behind him making a clattering calamity as he moved across the room. She was fighting to free herself, the effort futile really. "It is a little late to try to break free now little girl," Shouki whispered, his hot breath likely the only source of warmth in Naikishin's immediate vicinity. "Battered, bleeding, half-drowned and ... frozen," Shouki commented. He was stating the obvious, but he enjoyed doing that sometimes. "You see... I just want to hurt you, maybe kill you but being in pain is plenty-enough for me if you can keep me interested," he sneered. He was not referring to what mot men would refer to when he had two dames tied up in a basement at his mercy. As Sousuke had already learned, Shouki was more than a pretty face. <B>"Tell me a bit about yourself while my new ...friend makes nice with yours,"<i></i> Shouki magnanimously offered. A colloquy if of gravity would be far more interesting than continuing to beat on a mostly dead woman. The game would have too long an intermission if one or both of them died before the 'heroes' arrived.

 

[Michi]

"The Steward-Kazekage is a means to an end, nothing more and nothing less. His approval is not a factor."

Mikaboshi's contempt for the Steward was palatable. He did not even feign an allegiance, or a dedication to their understood pact. He was merely following to the letter the words spoken, like a monkey paw that grant's you your heart's desire only the outcome is twisted and terrible. She did not know the specifics of the pact, but it was certain that the Steward believed himself to be in control of this dog but the chain was broken and Sousuke was unaware.

"What Sousuke does not know will not trouble him."

Mikaboshi announced. A cold rush of air and shadow ensconced her, the heart-wrecking gloom permeated the space. Barely able to stand under her own power, badly beaten already twice she was still standing next to Isaki. Her hand on the back of Naikishin's chair, Mikaboshi reached out for her. His long, icy fingers wrapped around her slender neck constricting her breath. The Deep Court Lord was not a large man, but he was taller than she. Perhaps it was his lanky, Frankenstein-like limbs that now barely contained his awful essence. Shiori on tiptoe, her grasp of Isaki's chair relinquished as she staggered forward.

"This is not how I remember you. First you take a human name and pretend to be one of them. Then you shame yourself in defeat by this mortal malcontent. Perhaps I am mistaken and you are not the Desert Queen. Perhaps she slumbers someplace deep within your psyche and I will find her if I peel back enough layers of human filth piled on top of her. Let's find out, shall we?"

"My ch-choices are of no concern to you,"

Shiori choked as something dreadful permeated her mind. A blood-curdling scream, escaped her pallid lips despite the limited airflow. The anguished cries did not cease, defying what breath a lung could release.

What she saw was 'death' of another form. The only thing an eternal creature such as she truly feared. Death. But not the death that humans knew, the one where they faced either nothingness or an eternity of grace or damnation depending on their beliefs and if they had been a 'good' boy or girl. Death like the one she had faced so many times before, but everlasting. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. A fate she knew well, but in time as all things for her... for them... were cyclical in such a way that the dust and earth and sand would take form and she would live again. The problem was, that refractory period between lives. Never knowing how long. It could be moments, days, hours or even years, but her time would always come. A parasite in a way, not that she was any different from any other living things as she took energy and vitality from those around her. Cognizant, but un-moving for sometimes years before someone was as unfortunate as to trod too close. Their life forfeit so that she may live.

But what if nobody was ever foolish enough to die? It was a guilty truth that she wanted to live more than she wanted a complete stranger to. A fact that she had not wanted to admit for a long time. A fact that she would have rather forgotten. She wondered if the other Ancients in their 'dead' states cried as she did. Unable to be heard, their screams silent. There had to be so many wailing calls left unheeded as humanity hunted them all down. Outnumbered and limited in her own intervention by her nature she desperately tried to prevent her own eternal-death by dying too soon. Her essence surrendered to resurrect her brothers but her life was not enough. Whatever it was that Primus used to slay the greatest Lords of her time, she did not understand but she did suffer the consequences of her rash decision. For decades she remained in the sun, slowly shifting into the depths. None to hear. None to know. The darkness and her silent song. Forever moving, these crimson sands but not under her own power into the depths before she found her way into the worm-carved caves. Who she killed was merely fortune that it was Sousuke's kin, one of the most powerful families in Sunagakure at the time. Their death no even a choice but a feral instinct at that point, but her actions and her failures plagued her even if it was the natural-order of things. ​

Even something as old as she could learn a new trick -- she had grown sentimental in her old age. All things were fleeting and her own mortality was realized. There was a time when she would have been too proud to be restrained to a chair and beaten, she would have turned to sand first. The weeks or years would pass slowly, but in retrospect be a blink of an eye. Was it fear that truly compelled her? Not entirely. 'Death' was what she feared, it was the lonesome darkness that came with it. The guilt she harbored trying to confront and conflict it. In short, it was the fact that she was utterly lone and unheard that caused her the greatest trepidation. This lonesome fate that she was left to suffer because she dared live.

She was living her greatest fear, but so was Mikaboshi surely. She sought acceptance and love, both tributes she has been denied. Rather pitied and tolerated by her peers and those whose opinions she valued. Tears streaming down her face, she spoke between sobs. "Everyone is dead." It was fact that she had to live with for centuries. Her non-interference while a consequence of her nature. Her survivor's guilt for not being hunted. Her shame in fearing the death she had avoided.

 

[Takahashi Aki]

[place holder]

 

[Takahashi Aki]

The room shook for a moment. There was a thunderous boom of sorts going on, and voice from above. Again the room shook and a crashing sound was heard as something from above was messing with the room. The roof shook again, and it was torn off. Inhuman hands gripped the structure and pulled it off completely. A set of angry large yellow eyes peered down. A rumbling escaped from the creature. "Shouki." the voice rumbled. It was a companion of his, not by choice. The creature had warts, and carried with him a large blade. The creature paused though before drawing the blade in its entirety and smiting the Cabal member with it.

The large monstrosity with warts held his palm out. A single solitary figure could be seen emerging. The figure knelt down and rested his forearm on his knee. "Knock. Knock."<i></i> Spoke the third Takahashi Sousuke. The absent hero had finally arrived. With a few friends. The Steward observed the situation before him. Well. This was extraordinary complicated. One, a cage Shouki in a shadowy prison that Sousuke himself could perform. Two, Mikaboshi was present too. Sousuke had not set Mikaboshi out and after Shouki. Most strange. Oddly enough Mikaboshi had a very close proximity to Shiori. In fact... he had his hand on her throat. "Stand down Mikaboshi."<i></i> Sousuke spoke. It was an order, and spoken in a tone perhaps none of the present party had heard before. To further emphasis his point, the Steward gripped the Black Blade. He had power over the Ancient. He had never to use that power before, until now. "Oathbreaker."<i></i> He accused. While Mikaboshi's actions were highly questionable and perhaps most repulsive, given that he was attacking his cousin, there was still Shouki to deal with.

"Very cute Shouki using the uncertainty principle."<i></i> Sousuke turned his gaze away from Mikaboshi, who he was glaring daggers at, and back to Shouki. The faceplate begin to break apart and separate. There was a very tired and weary look about the Steward. The grid pattern on his face very much in plain sight. There was no point in hiding anything anymore with his illness. It was eating away at him. The well disguised leper merely kept his eyes trained on Shouki. There was something eerie about it. Perhaps it was a madness? Sousuke was known for being a genius, and that characteristic was known to extract a toll on people. Perhaps it was exhaustion, which often made people quite irritable. Perhaps it was finally an emotional crack that had become a great fracture, was this anger? "Your courier has betrayed you. I didn't expect a bastard such as yourself to work into the archetype of a bully. The funny thing about bullies is that they're only themselves for so long as they hold power over a situation. What we become now is something entirely different... with all truths and lies dispelled into a state of absolute nothing."<i></i> He paused, "We were promised that each of us are each somebody, when in fact we are nobody. You. Me. Everyone here. Luckily each of us simply go by a programming, to think otherwise. With that programming we simply ignore the concept of getting out of a raw deal by ceasing to procreate."<i></i> A pessimistic nature of sort seemed to grasp the Steward. Shouki seemed to draw the worst out of Sousuke. Sousuke shook his head. "Apologies. This man brings out the worst in me."<i></i>

There was the final thing... a seemingly gender swapped individual... was this the stranger from before?