The man bothered him, and he would admit it to himself that this was the case. A guy on his trail, with a sword that big, able to move it like it was a switchblade. Hoshikata knew he came close to losing that fight, he knew that it was a close margin that left him as the supposed victor of their altercation. And even though the other fled, Hoshikata had to suffer with a broken rib for a month after the fight. So he used his new TITAN contacts to put out feelers, to get an idea of what he was dealing with. And they came back in spades.
Adaenma Tenkei was a hunter. He did not hunt animals, he hunted evil. The surprising thing was just how many of these bastards there were. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands. And many were trained in the shinobi arts; maybe not fully trained but they had enough power to be formidable as he himself saw. The Seer needed to know more, so he used his references to get a location on one group.
The idea was quite simple, he simply walked up to the place, a tavern of all things, and walked right on it. From what he was told they met in the basement, which could be accessed via a stairway. The rest of the tavern was just that, a normal bar where people gathered and caroused and enjoyed themselves. And for the first time in a long time no one gave Hoshikata the time of day.
He did not appear as the golden skinned god he was here. Instead he was his old self, pale skinw ith silver-platinum hair. One gray eye and one purple, he appeared as he often forgot he used to look, the playboy of Mist returned. He made a show of ordering a drink and drinking it, then another, and another. Strong drinks, the things men drink. And then he made a show of running into the bathroom.
And then the show ended. The henge fell, and so did his corporeal form altogether. Hoshikata steps into the wall, through it and into the stairway leading down. It was lit, but no one was in it, which was good. A wayward spirit was his lookout, making sure it was clear before he stepped through the door at the bottom and slid behind a stack of boxes and resumed his form.
He was in, and he could hear talking. The man takes a moment to pick around the common room in which he found himself. Weapons, bottles of acid, holy water of all things. He takes a swig of the last one for kicks before noticing a map on the table. That would be pocketed, along with anything that looked like a letter or memo. The more he knew of the better.
A door opens down the hall, prompting him to fly back behind the boxes. Voices come closer, discussing a raid on a camp of supposed demons. And then they stop short before someone asks where the map went. For a moment he curses leaving the staff behind, but there was no way to bring it down. He did have his knife though. As they begin to look around, Hoshikata eases the tanto from its sheathe and lets it go so it would hover beside him.
As one of the four comes to his spot, the box he was behind flies up and into the man. Hoshikata springs through the gap made, the tanto flying out and into the eye of one of the hunters as they all startle at his presence in their haven.
”Greetings. I am Isaki Hoshikata. I wish you to pass a message along to one of your number. Man with a missing hand, big sword. And now he's missing an eye.”
He grins hearing someone mutter the name Tenkei, and again the tanto goes flying off. The man deflects it, but spins around to do so again as it keeps coming in at him. Hoshikata watches as the sprawled man rises, and approaches him with the other living one. They didn't look very friendly.
More boxes go flying at them, kinetic force slamming into them with the wood. He reaches out and binds the one dodging his weapon, and the blade gives a squelch as it sinks into the man's throat and ends his life. As one of the other two finds a weapon, an axe, and rushes in swinging, he throws the corpse in the way of the attack to knock the man back again.
And then fire explodes from the former Mizukage. Flames race through the air to touch both men, setting in alight like kindle in a stove. The knife dives in again and again, drawing screams of pain and agony. And finally they go silent. As the tanto comes back to his grip, he henges back into his old form and begins to climb the stairs. The noise above would have drowned out the fight, but they still had a guard up there. Almost as an afterthought he sets more of the room on fire.
The pale man leaves the bathroom, a bit sweaty sure, but also looking happier. And out the door he goes as black smoke begins to seep out from the stairwell door.
Adaenma Tenkei was a hunter. He did not hunt animals, he hunted evil. The surprising thing was just how many of these bastards there were. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands. And many were trained in the shinobi arts; maybe not fully trained but they had enough power to be formidable as he himself saw. The Seer needed to know more, so he used his references to get a location on one group.
The idea was quite simple, he simply walked up to the place, a tavern of all things, and walked right on it. From what he was told they met in the basement, which could be accessed via a stairway. The rest of the tavern was just that, a normal bar where people gathered and caroused and enjoyed themselves. And for the first time in a long time no one gave Hoshikata the time of day.
He did not appear as the golden skinned god he was here. Instead he was his old self, pale skinw ith silver-platinum hair. One gray eye and one purple, he appeared as he often forgot he used to look, the playboy of Mist returned. He made a show of ordering a drink and drinking it, then another, and another. Strong drinks, the things men drink. And then he made a show of running into the bathroom.
And then the show ended. The henge fell, and so did his corporeal form altogether. Hoshikata steps into the wall, through it and into the stairway leading down. It was lit, but no one was in it, which was good. A wayward spirit was his lookout, making sure it was clear before he stepped through the door at the bottom and slid behind a stack of boxes and resumed his form.
He was in, and he could hear talking. The man takes a moment to pick around the common room in which he found himself. Weapons, bottles of acid, holy water of all things. He takes a swig of the last one for kicks before noticing a map on the table. That would be pocketed, along with anything that looked like a letter or memo. The more he knew of the better.
A door opens down the hall, prompting him to fly back behind the boxes. Voices come closer, discussing a raid on a camp of supposed demons. And then they stop short before someone asks where the map went. For a moment he curses leaving the staff behind, but there was no way to bring it down. He did have his knife though. As they begin to look around, Hoshikata eases the tanto from its sheathe and lets it go so it would hover beside him.
As one of the four comes to his spot, the box he was behind flies up and into the man. Hoshikata springs through the gap made, the tanto flying out and into the eye of one of the hunters as they all startle at his presence in their haven.
”Greetings. I am Isaki Hoshikata. I wish you to pass a message along to one of your number. Man with a missing hand, big sword. And now he's missing an eye.”
He grins hearing someone mutter the name Tenkei, and again the tanto goes flying off. The man deflects it, but spins around to do so again as it keeps coming in at him. Hoshikata watches as the sprawled man rises, and approaches him with the other living one. They didn't look very friendly.
More boxes go flying at them, kinetic force slamming into them with the wood. He reaches out and binds the one dodging his weapon, and the blade gives a squelch as it sinks into the man's throat and ends his life. As one of the other two finds a weapon, an axe, and rushes in swinging, he throws the corpse in the way of the attack to knock the man back again.
And then fire explodes from the former Mizukage. Flames race through the air to touch both men, setting in alight like kindle in a stove. The knife dives in again and again, drawing screams of pain and agony. And finally they go silent. As the tanto comes back to his grip, he henges back into his old form and begins to climb the stairs. The noise above would have drowned out the fight, but they still had a guard up there. Almost as an afterthought he sets more of the room on fire.
The pale man leaves the bathroom, a bit sweaty sure, but also looking happier. And out the door he goes as black smoke begins to seep out from the stairwell door.