The tower loomed over the young teenager as he craned his neck back to try and see the top. A stray gust of warm wind blew across the back of his neck and he shivered. Michino reached into a pocket on the back of his leg to pull out a little notebook. He flipped it open to where the marker ribbon had been laid down at.
Your father is connected to the tower.
The message was scrawled in an unfamiliar handwriting. Most of the pages of the notebook had been torn out long ago as his alter-ego had a bad habit of writing weird stuff when he was asleep. So why would he follow the message written in a notebook that was meant for maniacal ranting? He had thrown the book away months ago. He has also since learned to control the part of him that was trying to drive him into madness so waking up this morning to see that old leather notebook resting on his bedside was weird.
Yo check out the butt on that one.
His eyes shot in a downward angle before he realized what he was even doing and without hesitation slapped a hand over them to avoid looking at what no doubt was a woman bent over near him to pick something off the ground. He mostly had a handle on his Otherside. The voice in his head was essentially the Id of his personality and thus really only cared for the base pleasures. To add on top of everything he was in the swings of puberty so aside from literally hearing voices of his own Id, hormones were driving most of his ideas and traits. He hated it. Michino's mind was something of a bit advanced in intelligence from having to push himself three times harder than any of his peers to get where he was. Going through a time of his life where his body was controlling his actions more than his common sense was driving him crazier than having a voice in his head with its own personality.
However he wasn't hear looking at crazy scrawl about his father nor to look at the ample rears of Suna's beautiful women. No he had deduced that the key in figuring out who his father was had to do with either someone who worked here or some kind of private record. Either way he had a feeling that it was going to require a talk with the Kazekage. He took a step towards the doors and watched as they swished open automatically for him. His heart suddenly decided then that its home was in the center of his throat. He hated talking to officials, super clean offices, and the look of annoyance most adults gave him when he came to ask questions.
[Topic/Tower Entered]
Your father is connected to the tower.
The message was scrawled in an unfamiliar handwriting. Most of the pages of the notebook had been torn out long ago as his alter-ego had a bad habit of writing weird stuff when he was asleep. So why would he follow the message written in a notebook that was meant for maniacal ranting? He had thrown the book away months ago. He has also since learned to control the part of him that was trying to drive him into madness so waking up this morning to see that old leather notebook resting on his bedside was weird.
Yo check out the butt on that one.
His eyes shot in a downward angle before he realized what he was even doing and without hesitation slapped a hand over them to avoid looking at what no doubt was a woman bent over near him to pick something off the ground. He mostly had a handle on his Otherside. The voice in his head was essentially the Id of his personality and thus really only cared for the base pleasures. To add on top of everything he was in the swings of puberty so aside from literally hearing voices of his own Id, hormones were driving most of his ideas and traits. He hated it. Michino's mind was something of a bit advanced in intelligence from having to push himself three times harder than any of his peers to get where he was. Going through a time of his life where his body was controlling his actions more than his common sense was driving him crazier than having a voice in his head with its own personality.
However he wasn't hear looking at crazy scrawl about his father nor to look at the ample rears of Suna's beautiful women. No he had deduced that the key in figuring out who his father was had to do with either someone who worked here or some kind of private record. Either way he had a feeling that it was going to require a talk with the Kazekage. He took a step towards the doors and watched as they swished open automatically for him. His heart suddenly decided then that its home was in the center of his throat. He hated talking to officials, super clean offices, and the look of annoyance most adults gave him when he came to ask questions.
[Topic/Tower Entered]