DAIKI!

[Michi]

It was late and dark, the shattered carmot 'sky' afforded some light still but the world was dim and dank here in this subterranean haven. Shiori was carousing for a fight as she did most nights after Sousuke fell asleep. The house, even during the most quiet of times was abuzz with sound... with terrible droning noise. A gentle yet abrupt snore, the rhythmic beat of a heart, the gentle churn of gastric contents, the soft rustle of bed linens and the innumerable ticks and clicks of blood vessels was enough to bring her to madness. The quietest of times for this reason were the most disturbing for Shiori. She had already been to three bars this eve, she drank not a drop nor had she encountered anyone worth fighting. She could not help this feeling, this sense of anger and this sense of displacement since the Cabal were driven out.

In her hand was a paper bag, inside a bottle of moonshine. She preferred to drink alone and she needed something to dull the world enough to garner a few hours of rest before Sousuke woke up. To him she was likely a useless cousin, in a way he was right. Shiori had no ambition for power, prestige, wealth or even a career. In comparison Shiori looked like a simple needs midget next to her Nobel prize winning family member. She took a gulp, the bitter liquid burned the back of her throat and unsettled her empty stomach. She never cared for the taste, only the effect.

There was a sound, something discreet. Inaudible to most, the scuff of a shoe against the ground or the flap of cloth catching the air from a sudden descent. Shiori stopped, her bottle lowered from her lips she called out into the night. "Hello?"

 

[Hansame]

Noroi had a particularly rough day today. He spent his morning scavenging for clothes, but this time, some other street orphans beat him to it. They all got into a fight, and all noroi could manage to get was a shirt five sizes too large. He spent the rest of his day working for a few coins. Not much different then a normal day, but today felt especially miserable for some day. He walked down the dark streets, pondering what he should do for the night. He could always go work for dinner, or see if one of his friends was in the area. Noroi hadn't seen Kagari lately. He wondered if he was doing well.

As he was about to call it a night, he heard a noise nearby. What could it be? Bandits? Thieves? Or worse? Noroi had heard rumors about demons in Suna, and from what he knew, there sure may be. Noroi took out a kunai and dashed into a corner, afraid of the possible sources.

"Hello?"
It was a woman's voice. She didn't sound dangerous, but there can always be a difference. Noroi took a peek at the woman. She seemed curious, and she was holdings a paper bag. Drugs? Alcohol? Noroi didn't know what to think. He clutched his kunai tightly and said nervously:

"H-hello? A-are you g-going to m-mug m-me? O-or a-are you a d-demon?"

Noroi suddenly felt a childish curiosity. He quietly came out into the open, shaking softly. He still was afraid of she was a demon, but surprisingly curious about the stranger. He hadn't seen her around, and he didn't seem to know anything about her. He trembled a little, afraid of the unknown.

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

​

Naikishin continued to wander through the village, after his fight with the man called Kagemaru. He had left the rooftops not too long ago and had wandered through the streets, his sword back at his side, though the blade of it continued to seemingly stayed missing, aside from when Naikishin had actually drawn it against the man. Though the main distinct feature that one could tell about the man, aside from his pure white hair and red eyes, was that his clothes were covered in blood, but not enough to be soaked.

His breathing was relatively quiet as he slowly took each step down the streets he walked through, almost having an air of hostility around him, though anyone downwind could smell the distinct oder that blood had, though if he had any more blood on him, it would start to drip from him, though luckily he didn't stay long enough for the blood from Kagemaru's corpse to stain his clothes any more than they already had.

After a while, he would soon see a woman sitting in the street, drinking from something that was wrapped with a paper bag around it. He knew what was generally drank with a paper bag wrapped around it, even though he didn't usually drink alcohol.

He wasn't really focused enough to have heard anything the woman had said, but had soon noticed a kid who was brandishing a kunai and had spoke to the woman. His eyes could be compared to those of a dead fish, though he would stop roughly twenty feet away from the woman who had been drinking quite a strong alcohol, as well as the kid who wielded a kunai. While Naikishin could comprehend what was going on, he chose to allow his body to recover from having used his curse seal, as well as having been hit by Kagemaru's attacks, even though they did minimal damage to him. Very few things went through his mind, as he just allowed himself to wander, and try and clear his mind of the disrespect that he had gone through by not one, but two people.

[MFT]

 

[Michi]

OC: Two people I wanted to RP with. =)

IC:
There was something there, or rather someone. A voluminous shirt obscured the boy's actual size but hung from him like a blanket hung over a hanger. Armed with a diminutive blade, not enough to scar or scare, but still the boy called attention to himself in the Grand Palais of all places. The Grand Palais the domain of deviants, dangerous individuals and those who wished to not be found. It was no place for a youth, especially an essentially unarmed youth.

"H-hello? A-are you g-going to m-mug m-me? O-or a-are you a d-demon?"

"Neither" Shiori replied as she took a swig from her paper bag, regretting the fact that she had not started drinking a few minutes earlier so she could already enjoy a buzz. The dizzy, diminished sense she found at the bottom of the bottle was her only respite from the monotony and failure she suffered time and time again as a human. Her existence seemed less lonesome before she remembered what she was, what she had done and what she must do. Old vendettas plagued her thoughts, she relished the thought of knowing a Sunahoshi was in pain or peril. She was ashamed at the affections she still harbored for Sousuke and hated herself for the weakness of her own character. The stubborn desire near perverse, bordering an obsession. The Cabal served as a good distraction for her hours of sobriety, seeking them and those allied gave her an exquisite sense of satisfaction even if blood would always beget more blood and pain only more pain she was not going to be the one to make peace.

"I am just a closet-drunkard trying to get a buzz before I gets home,"</B><i></i> Shiori explained eyeing the kunai. Sure, it would probably smart to get hit by one but it was hardly a threat to her. <B>"What's with the tent?" Shiori inquired as she took another gulp, a small stream of firewater escaped from the corner of her mouth that she wiped away with her forearm. The kid was wearing a veritable canopy. Sure the ninja kids these days sure liked their mesh clothes - where these kids found fishnet in the middle of the desert was beyond her. Back in her day people wore normal clothes, shirt, shoes, sneakers, the occasional dress and for the most part these articles actually fit. The kid was shaking, not the hyperactive gave a kid too much sugar kind but rather the pseudo-seizure of fear shivers that would make any lady feel guilty about whatever it was that they did to cause someone distress. Maybe Shiori was the benevolent-type, maybe she just had a soft-spot for kids. In either case, she frowned "I'm a harmless drunk. I won't hurts you, I promise." She extended her bagged bottle towards the boy as she approached, a drunkard's peace offering perhaps. "Take a drink and I'll gets you somewhere safe... safer than here." She recommended.

It was then that she noticed that they were not alone, the sounds she heard may or may not have belonged solely to the child. Shiori stepped in front of the unfashionable child and turned around, she was not looking rather she was listening. Her head cocked to the side like a curious bird rather than a human she raised a single finger in the direction of the young man hoping that he would stay silent for just a moment before her finger curled away and she called out a second time. "Hello?"

OC: Bad post is bad, but it is hard to jump writing styles from sober to tipsy to hopefully drunk. Next one should be improved as I hit my groove.

 

[Hansame]

looking at the woman, Noroi thought about how he could escape if he had to. He could always just run, but that would end badly.... He saw the woman take another swig as she simply answered "neither" to both questions Noroi asked, telling him she was just a drunkard. He calmed down a little, believing what she said. But one thing felt weird. She said she wasn't a demon. So demons reall do exsist?

"What's with the tent?" She asked.

The tent? Oh, she meant the shirt. He thought about cutting it down, but what'll happen if he grew? Back to scavenging again, and Noroi did not want to go up against the other street rats. They tended to get vicious.

"S-sorry, I-it was the o-only th-thing i-i could f-find"
He replied. The red lights were always a touchy subject for him. He was a little embarrassed about being a street rat.

The woman seemed to look a bit worried. Was it something he did? Or was it she had something else on her mind. Anyway, she put out her paper bag and said to him.
"I'm just a harmless drunk. I won't hurt you, I promise. Take a drink and I'll get you somewhere safer.... safer then here."
Another place? Noroi hoped it wasn't another orphanage. After what happened at the last one, he didn't want to go back. And thís alley was his home.The woman seemed safe, kind of comforting, and Noroi didn't want to be rude. he looked at the bag, gulped, and reluctantly took a small sip. It burned in his mouth, and Noroi quickly swallowed, coughing.

When the woman stepped in front of him and said "hello?" Noroi got back into a defense position, wondering again what was to come. He wondered if they were demons, and a tiny bit of him hoped that they were. The rest of him hoped it was something harmless.

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

​

Naikishin had listened to the two speak to each other as they spoke back and forth, the kid apparently frightened and the woman apparently just out having a drink before heading home. He was still fairly detached as an attempt for him to calm down slightly from the moments that had happened not all that long ago, which was working, so as he became more and more aware of his surroundings as the kid and the woman spoke to each other, before the woman had called out another time, though her head was cocked to the side, similar to that of a bird.

The kid, however, had moved back into a defensive stance after the woman had called out. He would take a few slow steps forward, his body just starting to feel sore from the fight that he had come from. As he took each step, the two should now be able to tell that the man smelt like a raw metal and earth, due to his blood covered clothes. He would now stop roughly ten feet away from both of them, his red eyes staring at the two. His eyes seemingly pierced through the darkness, though he would examine the two before speaking.

"Are you sure it's safe enough to just drink in the streets here, Miss? Hasn't there been some fighting fairly recently? Don't get me wrong, I'm not threatening anyone here." He said, as his breathing didn't much change from when he had arrived in the area.

 

[Michi]

Yes, monsters and terrible fiends existed in the dark of night. She was something not even remotely human but to be paired with such ignoble creatures was insulting, or so it would have been if she was in a proud state of mind. She felt dejected as of late, a consequence of unfortunate events and circumstance. Rejection and failure tend to do that to a person. She died once to a human already, not a hero or even someone that anyone would remember the name of. Her death was utterly inconsequential, the only thing less of note was the man who took her life. She was probably more 'human' than most humans of course, seeking comfort at the bottom of a bottle and the company of others to find solace in her impotence. Shiori took another gulp of the absinthian drink.

"S-sorry, I-it was the o-only th-thing i-i could f-find"

The boy stammered. "Find?" Shiori echoed incredulously, there were plenty of shirts and socks and shoes in the village. The shops were full of them. "Yous an Akamichi or something?" Shiori started to slur as she passed her bag over to the child. Did Sunagakure have under-aged drinking laws? Hell if she knew, she barely remembered what was in the bottle. "It is goods for you, gives your liver a work-out!"</B><i></i> She exclaimed with a smile as she took another gulp from the bag as it was returned to her. She would have given the boy a hearty slap on the back (not the backside) if it was not for an intrusion that caught her attention.

The coppery scent did not herald his approach like his song. The woodwind-like sound of breath entering and leaving his alveolar space, running through his windpipe and his nares. The soles of his shoes brushing against the ground, so soft... near silent. Shiori let out a groan as her left arm hung limp at her side, her fingers wrapped around the neck of her bottle. She could see his form before she could visualize him with her eyes, the least of the senses after all these years. The crimson glow of his eyes, more like a predator than a man Shiori tensed in front of the underfed Akamichi. "The kid has nothing to do with you," Shiori warned as she slid into an offensive stance that was only slightly cockeyed. The smell of old blood differed from fresh in a telling way as did the moisture remaining before it soaked one's garments and they became stiff rather than slimy in the intermediary. His appearance was alarming, even to an increasingly dizzy shinobi who eyed the stranger wordlessly for a moment.

"Are you sure it's safe enough to just drink in the streets here, Miss? Hasn't there been some fighting fairly recently? Don't get me wrong, I'm not threatening anyone here."

<B>"Not safe... but I can sometimes shinobi. Hic!"<i></i> Shiori replied as she extended her arm still holding the bottle to her side blocking the stranger's path to the kid. "What happened to yous, are yous hurt or are yous one of those safety issues."<i></i> Shiori slurred. Her sight was getting foggy, but he was red... so red.

 

[Hansame]

Noroi shook his head a little at the akamichi suggestion. Noroi didn't know if he had a bloodline, but he knew he wasn't part of that clan. He just couldn't really afford clothes and had to scavenge around. On the comtrary, Noroi was on the skinny side. He quietly said to the woman:
"N-no...n-not an a-akimichi. I-I just c-can't a-afford clothes....I sc-scavenge a-and live here..."

He always was a little embarrassed that he didn't have a better home. People always seemed to stare at him on the rare occasions he went up to a higher level. He used to live in the lower parts of the levels, but after his parents died he was moved to the red lights for money issues.

When the man started to walk towards them, Noroi was about to attack but the drunk woman put her arm in front of him and the man. The man looked at them with cold, red eyes. Noroi could smell blood on him. If this was a demon, would it look like that? The lady and the man exchanged a bit of conversation, and Noroi was still tense if there was going to be a fight or not. He nervously asked:

"A-are y-you a d-demon m-mister?"

Ooc: sorry for the short post, busy day today

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

Naikishin had heard the woman say that the kid had nothing to do with him, in which she was right. He didn't much care about the child in this situation, considering the kid was more innocent than the man whose blood had ruined his clothes. The woman had said that it wasn't safe, but she could sometimes shinobi... It was obvious to him that she was now drunk, or at least was feigning it. He would bring one of his hands to his face for a moment, before then moving his hand to his hair and scratching the back of his head for a moment.

As the kid had asked him if he was a demon, he would smirk slightly before the smirk disappearing from his face. "Why do you ask, kid?" He had asked, before continuing on. "It all depends on who you ask. But I have a question for you then, in response. Aren't all shinobi demons?" He had asked, before turning his attention back to the woman. "Now... since you're drunk, how exactly would you fight someone should they show you any hostility, considering you can barely string words together?" He had asked, curious as to how the two would react. Both of his arms stayed at his side, considering he would rather not coder his arms anymore in the blood that had been on his clothes for a few hours by now.


[OOC: Sorry for the short post]

 

[Michi]

"N-no...n-not an a-akimichi. I-I just c-can't a-afford clothes....I sc-scavenge a-and live here..."

The kid stammered, Shiori exhaled a lungful of air. There were a lot of street-rats these days. She frowned, "the kid is not place for a Grand Palais"</B><i></i> (translate: the Grand Palais is no place for a kid) she slurred. She could feel the hot bile gathering at the base of her throat. Her stomach felt like a gymnastics team that forgot to take their Ritalin. What the hell was she drinking anyways? No matter. "I'll get yoou somethin' better,"<i></i> she promised. It was a promise she would remember despite her alcohol addled mind. There always was something about kids and needing to make sure they were taken from, perhaps she had likened herself more than she wanted to admit to society's image of her in that way. She let out a hiccup that shook her body, she braced herself against the ally wall so she did not knock herself over.

"A-are y-you a d-demon m-mister?"

The child queried the stranger. He was like a blood soaked phantom in the night, but he was unlikely a demon. Demons were a proud breed, a rare one too these days. Most were murky-blooded half-breeds. It had been centuries since she had seen the real thing. Their ominous aura used to make her chest feel tight and the air impossibly thin by their mere presence. While she did not consider the possibility of even a tainted bloodline legacy, she did not care either way. Demons were people too... kinda... sorta... OK, so demons were not-people, they were non-people usually humanoid but they shared the mind and heart of most humans like Ancients did as well. There were rules and limits, needs, wants and spite but everything had to deal with some sort of rule, that is everyone except humans.

"Why do you ask, kid? ...It all depends on who you ask. But I have a question for you then, in response. Aren't all shinobi demons?"

The question was not hers to answer, not that she had the mental faculties to do such. She swayed slightly but she did not back away.

"Now... since you're drunk, how exactly would you fight someone should they show you any hostility, considering you can barely string words together?"

The answer was simple. She... She... she would simply just.

BLEGH!​

Her entire gastric contents shot out of her mouth, thankfully she did not eat any fish or equally putrid substance in the recent hours. It was simply variable alcohols and gastric juice, launched from her mouth in Isaki's general direction. Shiori wiped her mouth with her forearm. <B>"Not like that, probably... but if I fights it is because shomeone else shtarted it... probably,"<i></i> Shiori answered honestly. But she still had a question left unanswered. "Ish... the.. blood-covered... shtranger here to hurt... me or is you hurt?"<i></i> Shiori tried to phrase the sentence as slow as her pickled mind could process the words. It was strange that he was even here, stranger still that he was covered in blood for no known or defined reason. It was likely that he was a bad-person rather than a good one considering his attire and his found location. Even moreso that he stopped to chat with a woman about to black out and some random scamp she had found on the streets that she was being an excellent role model for. Dam booze.

 

[Hansame]

"The kid is not a place for a Grand Palais"

Noroi look at the woman in a bit of confusion? Did she mean a kid shouldn't be in Grand palais? Noroi didn't really get what was wrong with the grand palais. Sure it was dirty and a bit of dangerous, but it was home. Maybe the work Noroi did to get money wasn't really safe and/or possibly legal, but Noroi did it anyway. He felt that the grand Palais was a small part of him.

"I'll get yoou somthin' better" the drunk woman promised.

"y-you d-don't have t-to do th-that miss. I-I l-like it here" noroi replied timidly, more concerned for the woman's wellbeing than his right now.

".....aren't all shinobi demons?" The man covered in blood asked

Are they. Noroi thought about that. We all killed and slaughtered many people without remorese. Maybe we weren't better then demons, maybe some demons were better then we were. From the tomes he read, demons slaughtered, but some of them were just with their killing. Most of the shinobi in the Grand Palais killed for money. Noroi's thoughts were interuppted by the woman vomiting her contents. After getting over that, Noroi replied to the question.

"I-i g-guess that I-it's j-just y-you're view of d-demons. S-some sh-shinobi k-kill for the fun o-of it..."

Noroi clutched his head, the effects of whatever was in that bottle started to kick in. Surprisingly, his senses started to enhance. He could notice every little bloodstain on the man's clothes. The smell of blood. Noroi's thoughts began to cloud as he grabbed his head and gripped his kunai, a bloodlust starting to form in his eyes.

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

Naikishin listened to the woman speak, though had soon vomited in his direction, and would move out of the way just in case any of it would have reached him. She would soon say that she would only be fighting if someone else had started it... probably. He could just barely understand what she was saying through the slurring. He would sigh as he listened to the kid speak, telling the woman that she didn't have to buy him clothes and that he liked it here.

The man would continue to stand relatively still as he had heard the boy say that it depended on ones view, and that some shinobi killed simply for fun. Though he would soon watch the kid clutch his head before he had gripped his kunai, a familiar look in the kids eyes forming. "Don't do anything you'll regret, kid." He would say, his red eyes staring at the kid now. Though with his eyes on the kid still, he would ask the woman a question. "What's your name, Miss?" He had asked, now crossing his arms, still keeping his eyes on the kid.

"Also, I'm not here to hurt anyone, without reason, nor am I hurt enough to have been bleeding this much." He said, as his gaze continued to stay on this kid, making sure not to take it off of him so that the kid wouldn't do anything towards him.

 

[Michi]

Shiori had no reason to lie, "I am the ghreat and phowerful Motrr Suna!"</B><i></i> (Translation: I am the great and powerful Mother Suna!) Shiori declared triumphantly. "But joo can call meh Shiori Takahashi,"<i></i> she added swapping around her own name. Shiori looked at the ground, perhaps in awe of the gastric contents she expelled or perchance she heard something and her keen sense was suffering from distorted perception. "Sumeone ish in the floor,"<i></i> Shiori announced. She did hear someone, or something but it was not from beneath them but rather above them. The metronome-like sound of a beating heart was all she heard out of place. He was utterly silent in how he pulled an arrow from his leather quiver and placed it on the rest. As he drew back the bowstring until it became taut, she did not hear a sound until the gentle *ping* resonated at an impossibly low decibel to herald the first oif several arrows that approached.

The arrow shattered Shiori's drink. The bag was ripped and the glass was shattered, the strongly scented contents combated with the repugnant stench of Shiori's gastric contents as they mingled on the ground. Shiori mourned the first casualty of the night. It was a cheap bottle of booze, hardly aged. It died young... do young... long before it would have ever hit its prime. A hailstorm of arrows followed the first, planting themselves into the ground. some perhaps hitting Daiki or Noroi but it did not appear to be the intent of the archer to actually cause bodily harm... yet. <B>"No fighting... No drinking" A calm voice called out before he revealed his location. It was the archer from before, before Isaki's involvement in this mess of a situation.

"That was mhne," Shiori complained but her words were unheeded, at least by the likes of this archer.

"Before I have to deal with more trouble, just point me in the direction of that woman you let run off."

"That's not nyce!" Shiori proclaimed as she hurled the remnants of her bottle at the archer. It was a sloppy throw but Shiori was not a pretty drunk. The archer seemed unfazed by the 'attack' that would have never hit but still pulled a bow from his quiver, aimed and HIT the descending broken bottle before it hit the ground with lightning speed.

OC: You wanted a T2, you got one.

 

[Hansame]

noroi's hand was shaking, his head rushing. He could smell the thick, coppery scent of fresh blood. that smell. Noroi didn't know why, but he started to drool a little in hunger. He wanted blood. he NEEDED blood. carefully, he took a few steps back, trying to resist to urge to attack someone. He listened to the woman slur on about being the Mother Suna and calling herself Shiori. the man with the red eyes seemed to be watching him, advising him not to do anything he'll regret. Noroi didn't know why, but soft music started to play in his head. Humming along, he gripped his kunai so tight it cut into his skin, causing blood to drip from his hand. Not bothering to let goof the kunai, the frail boy put his fist close to his mouth, sucking gently on the blood.

Before he could do anything else, a storm of arrows came down upon them. Nora's senses reacted, and he managed to outmaneuver most of the arrows, only receiving minor scratches and cuts. as soon as the arrows stopped, a voice drawled out. "no fighting….No drinking…" it said, and a tall archer emerged from the shadows. He seemed to know Shiori, and they exchanged a few words before Shiori sloppily threw the bottle at the archer. Quick as a flash, the archer shot the bottle just slight moments after it left her hand. That was the que. Noroi got back into his fighting stance, kana in hand, and the blood dripping. A small voice in his head, a gentle, feminine one, was telling him to attack. "attack them, give us blood…." it said. Noroi shook his head, trying the focus. His grip on the kunai tightened even further, and blood trickled down in a steady stream. quietly, but loud enough to be heard, he said to himself

"it's fine…. it'll all be fine…."

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

As the woman had said, not fully understanding what she had tried to say at first, aside from being 'great and powerful'. Though, soon she had said that he could call her Takahashi Shiori. Before Naikishin could really get a word in, Shiori would soon state that there was someone in the floor, in which an arrow would soon hit the bottle that Shiori was holding in her hand. He would quickly look up at the direction that the arrow had come from , since he had been watching both the kid and Shiori, but as he turned around, he would get hit twice, on the right side of his body. One arrow landing into his shoulder, while the other having barely caught his right abdomen. Luckily, the second arrow hadn't gotten stuck in him, though it did a bit more damage than a simple graze.

He would wince in pain for a moment before looking at where the new voice would come from, having told them no fighting or drinking. Shiori would soon say that the drink was hers, before getting cut off by the archer, and again by Shiori proclaiming that it wasn't nice, as well as having thrown the remnants of the bottle at the archer, but the man had hit it with an arrow before the broken bottle had hit the ground. "First off, once this is done, I'll treat you to a drink, Miss Takahashi." He had stated, as he pulled out the arrow that had hit him in his shoulder.

"As for you... you were the one that had been fighting the man formerly known as Kagemaru, but had let go... You're not the only one looking for the women that had gotten away, but unlike you, I'm not doing it for any sort of bounty. I'm going to try and protect that civilian from you and that Shinobi." He would state, before drawing his weapon. "Now, unlike your friend back there, you've actually caused me to bleed. Now, what's it going to be? Am I going to have to come up there or are you going to come down here?!" He had spoken, soon shouting at the man at the end of his speaking for the time being.

Not long after he questioned the man, Naikishin would quickly move into a unique stance known by a few people to get the most out of their attacks, though it usually came at the cost of hits dealing more damage against him as well. His attention had been taken off of the kid almost entirely. It didn't much matter to him at the moment. The man wielding the bow was more of a pressing matter as of right now. He would quickly equip his weapon, before grabbing the hilt with both hands, which would soon cause the weapon hilt to seemingly melt and cover both of his hands. The weapon hilt would quickly take the form of a pair of gloves, though something that he hadn't expected was a small amount of the hilt had traveled to his wound on his shoulder and had covered it, quickly seeping into the wound. Naikishin's body would be undergoing a change that would be going slowly for the time being. Except for one thing, he heard a voice he didn't think he would have ever heard again. "Can you hear me, Naikishin?"

The moment he could hear the voice, he would seemingly keep his focus on the man, but his guard was down, though only one with sharp eyes could notice, considering he was doing everything he could do to not just start making conversation, so the following will be all he says, to himself mind you, before doing what he could to keep any focus on the man. "Yeah..." He said, a slight smile forming on his face.

[MFT]

 

[Michi]

OC: Sorry for the delay, I had no down-time at work.

IC:

"As for you... you were the one that had been fighting the man formerly known as Kagemaru, but had let go... You're not the only one looking for the women that had gotten away, but unlike you, I'm not doing it for any sort of bounty. I'm going to try and protect that civilian from you and that Shinobi."

The archer was nothing more than a bounty hunter, but how was that any different from being a shinobi? Shinobis are such fucking egotists, assuming or at least telling themselves and others that they have some righteous cause rather than a master with deeper pockets than they. "Dam idealistic dreck," the archer announced as he leveled another arrow against his rest and took aim. "I do not care what his name was, or what he did for a living,"</B><i></i> his eyes scanned the area. His sense of sight was unrivaled as was his accuracy and aim. "She is dead, like it or not. If I don't kill her someone else less gracious than me will get the job done, I take no pleasure in my line of work unlike some people."<i></i> He was telling the truth, a grim reality really. Hurting people for a price was something that he did for a living but he never really relished his line of work but he was well-aware that there were plenty of others that relish the hunt and the kill. What he said might be taken as a threat and in a way it was, but not a threat he would accomplish but rather someone else. Her fate was sealed the moment Aburabuta posted notice, the only question truly was when and how.

"Now, unlike your friend back there, you've actually caused me to bleed. Now, what's it going to be? Am I going to have to come up there or are you going to come down here?!"

The bloodied shinobi shouted at him. The archer clicked his tongue and let out a huff of air through his nares. "I just want the woman, I get nothing out of killing you but quiet," the archer griped. "The woman means nothing to you because even you are calling her a civilian,"<i></i> he identified. He was far from a prodigy, but he was not foolish either. You don't survive in his line of work for long without making a few keen observations. "By the time you get here, I will have skewered that little boy,"<i></i> the archer threatened. If he was willing to put his life on the line for a woman he did not even know and was not even in arm's reach, what would he do for a child in front of him or fail to do. He aimed the arrow's head in the direction of the boy.

---

Shiori leaned against the wall of the ally. Her head was swimming and her gastric contents were churning, or at least what was left of them. She rested her shoulder against the wall, the side of her face felt good against the cool stone. Her arms dropped limply in front of her, her fingers intertwined and clumsily danced through an array of handseals. She was going to attempt to shock her system out of this inebriation, this is why she only actually drank on the way home from the bar never at the bar. Trouble was supposed to find her there, not here on the streets. Dam streets, lying and misrepresenting the good people of... eh... erm... the Red Light District?

</COLOR></FONTFACE>

<B>*hic*​

<i></i><FONTFACE fontface="helvetica">

Well, crap. No wonder there are problems to be had. Home was in the other direction. She felt like she was on a dingy in the middle of the ocean, the dang ground kept on moving - all wibbly wobbly. As the forced exertion of chakra started to eat away at the toxins inside her body, the world started to become increasingly clear. Her stomach and throat hurt, the caustic firewater was something she was not supposed to feel the detrimental effect of until the next morning. <COLOR color="red">"You said no fighting, but you broke an innocent bottle of..." her voice trailed off. She was not entirely sure of what she was drinking, she was still not fully literate but she knew that the skull and crossbones means 'good stuff' in Sunanese.

The ground started to rumble as her hands started to run through a secondary array of handseals with greater dexterity than the last. "I met a Kagemaru once, treated his men in fact. I have no idea what Kohonagakure wants with one of ours, nor do I know what any of your want but..." Shiori stopped herself short as she looked at what was behind her. "Don't hold your kunai backwards -- defeats the purpose." Shiori announced to the street urchin, her mind still not entirely clear or capable of focusing on a singular task.

WC: 347

MFT

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

Naikishin listened to to the archer speak, saying that he didn't care what Kagemaru's name was, or what he did for a living. His hands stayed clenched as he listened as the archer spoke. Though after he had brought up whether he would be staying up there or coming down, he would listen to the archer state that he just wanted the woman, and that the woman meant nothing to him because he had called her a civilian. And the man had quickly followed with the fact that by the time Naikishin had reached him, he would have skewered the kid.

Though soon after he had said that, Shiori had soon said that she had met a Kagemaru once, and she had treated his men. She aparently didn't know that Konohagakure wanted with a Sunan, nor what any of the mercenaries wanted. "I've only been trying to keep one of yours safe. And as for Konohagakure, I'm surprised you don't know. Do you know what happened to Kirigakure?" He would ask, before turning his attention to the archer. "I guess we'll have to test how fast you are with that!" He would say as he seemingly disappeared. Almost as soon as he had disappeared, using the speed of the Zantetsuken technique to move from where he stood to right in front of the archer to quickly use Spear Hand, in an attempt to quickly hit the man in either one of his arms or his torso.

Though reality had taken a moment, a trail of dust had shown the route that Naikishin had taken after having use part of a technique to boost his speed, though the amount of debris that had been brought up into the air was more than one would think, due to how fast he had moved.

 

[Michi]

"I've only been trying to keep one of yours safe. And as for Konohagakure, I'm surprised you don't know. Do you know what happened to Kirigakure?"

Shiori was never one for current events. In her long... long life, she had never traversed outside of Sunagakure. "No idea," Shiori replied. For the past three decades Sunagakure was isolated by the storm and prior to that the village was an isolationist state by choice. Information spreads slow in Sunagakure and even then, the only people who ever learn about foreign affairs are those who actually care about foreign affairs. She knew -of- those villages, but nothing more. She knew they existed in far off lands and that they too contained a shinobi community. As of late, men and women claiming dedication to those villages have even visited Sunagakure these past few weeks. It was odd, but nothing that Shiori cared enough about to take more than a peripheral note of. "What goes on in other villages is none of my business," she added. In a way it was true, but it was a very unshinobi-like statement. Information and intel was a basis of a shinobi's lifestyle but she was a terrible shinobi. "But they seem to enjoy visiting, I have seen more Kohonans and Kiri's than Sunans pass the gates."

Time for small-talk was over, Iskai disappeared only to reappear seemingly the same moment alongside the archer. Shiori started to sing, it was a song to fortify the mercenary while he took on the archer. The sweet melody that escaped her lips was rather unlike the garbled jumble of sounds she was uttering moments before. The thrill in her voice as it rose an octave only to crash down to the most baritone notes with a speed and perfect pitch that was almost uncanny. Fevre De Pitch would make Isaki and the boy feel 'better' -- stronger, healthier, more capable. As this happened, the Archer launched his assault of arrows straight at the young boy as threatened. The first got past Shiori, with his keen eyesight and precise aim it was unlikely he missed his mark. Shiori stepped to the side, in the way of the arrows and let her hands run through a fresh array of seals. She was the wind and earth incarnate, the song might have been all that she was left with in the darkness but her true power was not in her word as words were an old power long forgotten in the era of man. Three arrows struck Shiori, one in her chest and two in her midsection. With a determined look on her face, her hands completed a set of seals and a wall of earth erupted around the archer.

Shiori's hand reached for the arrow in her chest and she pulled it out. Red sand poured from the new wound, ruining her pretty dress. That was not the disconcerting part, that was the fact that air was escaping through her chest wound. Shiori placed a hand over the hole, it was a mistake for her to remove the arrow. Something she realized just now as she tried to seal her injury with her hand and she muttered crap. Her lungs burned for air, despite her sweet song's continuation. He had a free shot at this guy, ranged fighters are not that durable. A good hit and maybe he would go down. A single arrow went off as the egg-like barrier ensconced the archer in the darkness. It *pinged* against the inside of the barrier.

Hopefully before the debris settled, this man would be on the ground.

Perhaps he was not fast enough. The last thing he saw as he was enclosed in his earthen village was the terrible expression on Daiki's face. Was this guy a demon or a madman?

 

[Rakujo Yumeko]

Shiori's answer had reached Naikishin, though at the time being, he wouldn't much be answering, or at least until the archer was knocked out or worse. For him, disrespect and unjustified attacks were things that he didn't much stand. And this situation, said unjustified attack since Naikishin had no clue as to where the woman was, and since the archer didn't either, he was considering it as unjustified. As Shiori had soon started to sing the moment of his appearing in front of the archer, while he didn't pay attention to it, he did start to feel the effects of it, though not particularly noticing them as he was focused on the archer right now.

As he had gotten to the man, he had let several arrows go. Considering there was another person who seemed to be, hopefully, capable of defending someone. Not a moment later, the two had been surrounded by some substance, in which a final arrow would make a 'ping'ing sound as it had hit it. The only thing visible in the darkness would be Naikishin's crimson red eyes, which almost seemed to be glowing, as well as a faint purple aura that started to spiral around him, as his curse seal had activated to give him the maximum amount of strength it could. "Now... I'll show you what happens when you fuck with me..." He said.

It wouldn't just stop there, the gloved he was wearing seemingly disappeared, though it was more him fusing with his weapon, something others knew as Kindred Fusion. He would attempt to grab him with one hand, due to them being in an enclosed space. Should he had grabbed the man, he would gather chakra into his free hand, creating a technique that would be combining the Fist of Sin and the Perfected Rasengan, to create a technique called the Fist of Perfected Sin. He would try and strike the man with this technique, though it'd be more to knock him out instead of actually killing him, for the time being.

[MFT]

 

[Michi]

OC: I have a feeling that Ningyo Noroi has either forgotten us or is not coming back. Mind if I assume he is done with this topic. We have places to go... people to kill... blah blah blah.

IC:
Shiori's soprano voice filled the air with a haunting melody. Many of the notes higher than what most opera singers could achieve before crashing down through a series of notes to a deep baritone. There were a few things about her song that most would not consider, her song did more than bolster his abilities but it also prevented external influences from invading his ..or her for that matter's mind. When a space is already occupied, only something greater and more powerful can take its place. A doubtful fact considering her skill as an illusionist but even if there was the rare incident, the severed link would likely not go unnoticed. The darkness meant little to Shiori as she witnessed the battle above, her body in the way of the young man's. Her hand was trying to keep the wound in her chest sealed. The flesh nearest her wound was already getting the tactile feel of rice krispies, or more appropriately 'crepitus.' She was losing air and her lung on that side has collapsed. Shiori grimaced as her hands ran through an array of practiced deals granting her hand a verdant glow as she pressed it against her wound. It might not heal her entirely, but it would close the gaping wound. Those arrows might have been painful but they are far from the devastating effect of Homura's weapons and the deep wound in her shoulder that to his day never truly sealed. A small river of sand escaped from her chest wound before the broken flesh was sealed with a fine silver scar.

---

Not everything had a sound. As Isaki's cursed seal began to manifest over his body, Shiori would not see that in the tarry night. The archer, however, was able to see a physical change in his opponent, although it was slight considering the darkness and the gloom. The archer took a half-step back, his arrows being shot off in rapid succession aimed solely at Isaki. He was aiming for the legs, something to cut off his mobility. Several of the arrows had explosive notes already affixed and two seemed to harness the power of ice and if they hit would have tried to encase Isaki's limb in a boulder of ice.

"Now... I'll show you what happens when you fuck with me..."

There was something ominous about Isaki at this point, this oppressive and dark miasma that seemed to emanate from the battle. Shiori far from spiritually sensitive in her present state was still able to feel something distressing from the heart of the battle not not from whom. All eyes could see would the crimson gaze of one and the burst of combustive flair that came from the archer's attacks. "Warned you," he announced with a sigh. It did not seem that these was any friendship or comradery between them. That was a shame, friendship' and 'duty' were easy to manipulate and use to hold someone hostage. The archer tried to jump back, but perhaps he miscalculated the distance he needed to escape Isaki's grasp. His fingers curled partly around the archer's neck and the proximity prevented him from raising his bow. He tried to shrug the swordsman off, but it was too late. An amalgamation of dark energy and chakra ensconced Naikishin's hand. The strike hit the archer squarely in the face and sent the archer tumbling back. He fell from his perch and to the ground. The archer reached wildly for the roof's ledge. His hand lingered on the edge for a moment before he lost his grasp and fell the the ground two stories below.

A snap could be felt in his ankle from the fall, not that anyone less the archer could tell. From the floor he aimed up at Naikishin and he released an arrow infused with what could only appear from afar lightning-based chakra. "Looks like I am going to have to make my exit,"<i></i> he announced.