Ninpocho Chronicles

Ninpocho Chronicles is a fantasy-ish setting storyline, set in an alternate universe World of Ninjas, where the Naruto and Boruto series take place. This means that none of the canon characters exists, or existed here.

Each ninja starts from the bottom and start their training as an Academy Student. From there they develop abilities akin to that of demigods as they grow in age and experience.

Along the way they gain new friends (or enemies), take on jobs and complete contracts and missions for their respective villages where their training and skill will be tested to their limits.

The sky is the limit as the blank page you see before you can be filled with countless of adventures with your character in the game.

This is Ninpocho Chronicles.

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Celebration [OPEN]

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It was a run down rat-infested hovel of an establishment that smelled mostly or urine and strangely enough cheese. The dregs of society congregated here, with mouths of toothless decay and minds full of cobwebs and near toxic alcohol levels they yammered about their ex wives, the "man" keeping them down and of course their false proclamations of success most shared with their degenerate peers. Not everyone was telling lies on this day of course, for some today was an actual day of celebration. Shiori was here this day to celebrate the successes of a one Homura.

The crystal technology that illuminates a majority of the subterranean village of Sunagakure hummed quietly under the clamor of the bar patrons. The stink of poorman's sake filled the air as the barkeep opened another bottle of cheap rice wine that he mixed with plum wine to make the tavern's signature girlie drink. A burly man had accepted this drink, Shiori preferred something weaker: wine with soda. Unlike a majority of her peers, she had a limited toxic influence, her liver was certainly not as practiced as many of the "regulars" this locations catered to. "Hey, over here!" Shiori shouted as she played with the swirly straw (yes, it is colorful and loopy too) that sat in her plastic cup.

She had just left the Kazekage Tower where her cousin was left to toil. Her cousin was the Steward Kazekage Takahashi Sousuke, a somewhat known fact for anyone who recognized her last name. They were not related by blood and she harbored a secret love for her adoptive brother. He was of course an idiot and had no idea, it was a depressing situation really because he was a brilliant man but he was incapable of understanding the emotions of another. He would love her back someday, it just want not going to be today... or likely tomorrow or the day after. The day after that there was a chance she was rather confident or so she often liked to tell herself. He lacked emotional availability and she knew it. She was likely as broken as he was, she just never realized it. But today was not a day to mope around about her non-existent love life, she was here to celebrate an actual success.
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[MFT
 
Ah yes, dirty bars! It was his favorite place to come to relax, because everyone around him more-than-often looked down trodden and like they weren't worth much, which was a boost to his self esteem, though he wouldn't admit that outright. Today he was here to celebrate though, not to look good among a group of the ugly. Today he was wearing a traditional kimono, very clean hair tied back as it had gotten kind of long and he had yet to cut it. His face was scruffy though, having not shaved for some time. Though he didn't grow facial hair very fast, so it wasn't a big amount.

Entering into the bar, his nose twitched as it acclimated to the smells in the bar, like going through an industrial district that you don't frequent. His eyes scanned the area, his eyes seeming to drift to a rather out of place bar patron dressed to the nines and at the main bar waiting on a drink. He stared for a minute at her 'assets' before he heard a familiar voice. His eyes shifted over to Shiori calling out to him.

"Hey, over here!"

He raised his hand to her as if to say he saw her, so he didn't have to yell across the bar and draw unwanted attention. He had just come from a meeting with his parents, that had went somewhat sour and was here to not only celebrate but to forget it ever happened. As he got close, he intercepted a bar maid and whispered in her ear, letting her go and then getting to the table. He unlatched his sword from his belt and placed it on the table, the rather ornate hilt standing out. It had gold trimmings and a moth insignia on it, made of what looked like some kind of green gem. The sheath itself was nothing special though, and the sword was katana sized. Sliding the chair out, he would take a seat and smile at Shiori.

"Sorry I'm late, I got caught up in this big crowd I couldn't get through around some street performer. I should learn to dance, looks like good money in it!" he joked, a bold face lie made with the ease of someone who believed it to be true. A moment would pass before his drink was brought to him in an extra large cup. It smelled like apples strongly, and if she could see in the cup it would look green. Whatever it was though, was most certainly alcoholic.

[MFT: 424 WC]
 
Today was an interesting day. It was the first day in a long time that he was out on his own, free of his sister or the overbearing “guard” that she sent to aid him in his quest for eyesight. It was kind of refreshing, but somewhat difficult. He couldn’t see what was around him, only relying on what he could hear or smell as a means of transportation. Believe it or not, it was the only reason that he had stumbled into this rather shabby establishment. Shinn was somewhat of a renaissance man, possessing a wide array of knowledge about different cultures, customs and the like. It made him seem kind of snobby when he ventured into a place like this. The smell alone seemed to cause his nose to point upward, looking down on the patrons that filled their glasses within this fine establishment. Ironic, considering that the same smell is what drew him to this place on this day.

A lot of things had happened since he left the village. He returned to a demotion and a crumbled Medical Center, not to mention the freak that greeting him at the front gates. Weird was understatement with that one, and disappointment was the phrase that best described the former. In other words, it was time for a drink… to become a “bottom dweller” along with everybody else. After what he had seen, there was simply nothing more humbling than the taste of something bitter. Just a little smooth poison, sliding down your throat and giving the lucky drinker some form of perspective in their life…

Just a bit of perspective…

Shinn found himself stumbling into the bar, his sheath-cane out in front of him as he tapped it against the bar’s wooden floors, attempting to gain his bearings with the place. Honestly, this probably wasn’t the best place for a blind man. All of this loud noise just kind of confused him. Things were much simpler when it was quiet. Thankfully, a woman’s voice seemed to just carry over top of everyone as she yelled for someone to come over and accompany her. Of course, the invitation wasn’t for him but it didn’t stop him for being guided by her voice, eventually tapping on the leg of her chair with his cane as he searched for an empty seat. ”O, sorry about that.” The man apologized, his eyes notably closed as he tapped alongside the table, eventually coming to an empty seat. ”Looks like this is as far as I can make it. Don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Raising his hand in the air, he would begin his order as soon as he felt the presence of the female waitress serving drinks. ”Two bottles of moonshine please. On me,” he requested. Shinn had a little bit of money left from his crazy year of traveling. ”I guess an introduction is in order, eh? Name’s Shinn. Akechi Shinn.”

[Just dropping in. Hope ya don't mind]
 
OC: I never mind. Sorry that my IC activity is terrible sporadic these past few weeks. If I flake, my PM box or MSN window is always open and feel free to spam.

IC:
She liked the smell of the bar. It make the place seem... lively.

She did not know anyone there besides Homura, she had heard that he was about to be promoted. Well, she did hear it but the words were not meant for her. It was common for the woman to come across words meant for ears other than her own.
"Congrats!" Shiori exclaimed as she took a swig of her minimally alcoholic drink. She crinkled her nose at the acrimonious taste, the bottle was not a constant companion this incarnation. She invited him out for drinks between friends as well as an excuse to set him up with someone... anyone. He was a legacy of some sort, an old family or so the whispers mentioned. He probably had some snooty folks, her adoptive parents were like that ...sometimes. They always had a plan, a future marital prospect to some dullard, a career in a vocation that there was no ambition to pursue. When life is mapped out, it gets dull. She was lucky in comparison to those actually from honored family lines, parental meddling was likely a product of habit or compulsion rather than a true goal.

Shiori had an awesome plan, she had heard about this place sometimes referred to as a Red Light District and it was not far from the bar. She had overheard people in passing asking for meager sums of money in charge for a date. It seemed like a logical way to get people set up, there was often a man in a fuzzy hat that would facilitate the exchange. A professional matchmaker. It seemed that the going rate was only a few hundred yen, even a student performing chores could afford them. She wondered why they didn't, but she would make sure that they got set-up too one day.

Someone extra happened to drop in. She did not know him. He had a tapping stick, she liked the stick's metronome-like rapping on the floor. The sound filled her head with images and if she swung that way a view up a few skirts.
"What's with the stick?" She asked in place of a formal greeting over the barroom ruckus. Was he some sort of young cripple? It was always sad to see a young guy come back from the field with a busted up leg, hip or back. He was never one of her patients but most of her attention as of late has been divided. The medical tower was in ruins and a mad-woman slaughtered many of the survivors shacked up in med tents. "I am Takahashi Shiori, join us... I am trying to find my Homura here a wife and... I am a bit visually..." She paused for a second in search of a politically correct term, "...bat-**** blind." She might have let the cat out of the bag with that one, but he would have found it out after a few pints of liquid courage on his part anyways. Even if she was going to pay for the perfect match, finding Miss Right could be an intimidating prospect.
 
(Sorry this took so long, been busy!)

"Congrats!"

He raised his glass in celebration and took a big gulp, it soured his face for a moment not that his company could see it, but she could most certainly here the smacking of his chops as he tried to scrape the feeling from his mouth. This had been his first official unsanctioned drink outside the clan. He had done wine parties and other such things with his parents as a way to keep the peace between clans, playing the band-aid he was meant to be as the union between two people. Though now they had a new thing to keep them together, the mutual distrust of yours truly. Having just left the clan before coming here, he was in quite the mood for another drink and so he downed the sour apple drink and ordered another.

"Thanks! It's been quite a ride, just yesterday I used my ancestral sword to save a cat from a tree!" he said, sounding a bit sour, like the drink he ordered. "Maybe with this promotion, I can be entrusted with a few tougher jobs." he said, taking the painful cop route, choosing to throw himself into the job then think about his lost family. He was dead to them, and them to he and when something dies, it is to be mourned. Though he was trying his hardest not to! Then he saw a patron join in the fun, a walking stick clanking against her chair making it obvious he was blind, it seemed as though he was the odd man out. Perhaps he should close his eyes? Cover them with towels? Shove his sword through them? He laughed aloud at that thought and then shushed himself. Meanwhile he had opened a dialogue with Shiori, and it felt something...jealousy perhaps? Even if he did stumble into it, he had an in that Homura just didn't have, as such he would have to continue harboring this secret want of his.

”I guess an introduction is in order, eh? Name’s Shinn. Akechi Shinn.”

Then she replied.

"I am Takahashi Shiori, join us... I am trying to find my Homura here a wife and... I am a bit visually..."

Que the spit-take, where he tried to hold it all in and it leaked out of his nose. He had come to the bar to celebrate because it was on the callender, but he had talked himself up on the way here to hit on her, or try to insert himself deeper into her life in some manor. Instead, she had been planning such devious things and it caught him off guard. She had said she was blind while he recovered from almost drowning in his own drink.

"What she means to say is, celebrate me getting a promotion. I am Chikara Homura and this is the only woman I need in my life." he deflected, putting his hand on his sword and picking it up off the table, shaking it so they can hear the sword rattle in the sheath. The one woman he wanted seemed unavailable so he'd take himself off the market for now! "It's name is always changing, because I get bored with names. Today it's Delilah." he said, removing it from the table and leaning it against his chair. He had a small body buzz going on, and so was a bit loose with what he said. Little did they know, the sword was being very dismissive of his actions, it had feelings of its own even if nobody else could feel it. It wasn't words, but a feeling he got when he touched it. Though that wasn't particularly important to what was happening now, aside from being upset he didn't use her real name.
 
”Ah, Shiori-san. I feel like I’ve heard your name before. A while ago, of course.” Shinn spoke, laughing at her comment about finding this “Homura” guy a new wife. ”Sounds like you are pawning him off to me. I guess flattery really does get you nowhere sometimes,” the young Akechi commented, a mischievous grin painted across his face while raising a glass for the young fellow on the day of his “promotion.” ”Congratulations… to you and er—Delilah.”

”This drink is rather strong. Ah well. I guess this will be fine. It’s not like I can see the room spinning,” he giggled to himself, downing another glass of the clear liquid before gleefully tapping his “cane” on the floor. ”Ah, you mean this? It isn’t or at least it really wasn’t supposed to be a cane.” Removing the blackened blade from its sheath, Shinn held it out by its red handle so that the woman could see it… or feel it in her case. ”It’s actually my favorite sword. I don’t have a name for it like Homura though. It is just a tool after all. A tool that takes the lives of others as indiscriminately as the man that wields it. Honestly, I’d rather save lives than take them but in this world… Just not possible sometimes.” He really didn’t mean to go into a tangent but just talking about blades seemed to take him back to that day… or at least the event that gave birth to his ideology.

”I guess we have something in common, Shiori-san. My eyes cannot see the light as well. It’s an affliction I hope to resolve while I am here,” Shinn responded, downing another glass of the bitter liquid, squinting his eyes as the poison slithered down his throat. Honestly, he hated this brand of alcohol during his first taste but he acquired a new taste for it after the third glass. ”Ay, Homura. What promotion did you get?”
 

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