Sora, a sprawling metropolis that has grown unchecked both skyward as well as outward. The capital of Wind Country as well as the home of the Diamyo, Sora is not only a site of commerce and political dealing but also a destination site for happy couples, curious travelers and even families. On the surface, Sora seems perfect. The streets might be narrow but they are clean. Advertisements cover every wall, many attempting to sell luxury and designer wares. The most striking observation would be the absence of poverty. There was not a single derelict building, not one beggar, no street-rats or even homeless old maids. Evidence of the community's benevolent efforts evident in the adverts on the walls, many wreathed in lights reminding the find citizens of Sora that there is help for the homeless, the orphaned and the destitute. They had orphanages, workhouses for the widows and spinsters, rehabilitation centers for the addicts, psych centers for the mentally ill. The people on the streets seemed happy or at least complacent in their lives, the busy dense streets walked in droves. There was no street-side sermon announcing that "the end is nigh" or rallied group of protesters speaking out against a new law or policy. The city was a well-oiled machine. There was one unfortunate sight. A missing poster. Hundreds in fact, depicting a young girl likely in her teens of Hyuuga heritage who had gone missing. Shiori recognized the name and the face, she had given a dossier to a group of Genin, from the looks of things they were successful.
She did not arrive in the city until after nightfall, not that it was a problem for her, she would have had to wait until after dusk to carry in the unconscious young man if she did not want to garner any unwanted attention. She entered the city sooth covered, her white dress stained dark and her long blond tresses were blackened and unruly. She would appear to be the only vagrant in the city and despite the shadows night afforded she stuck out. There was no low-life district. There was no obvious seedy underbelly. So she started to sing with her enthralling voice a lullaby. This was not a civilian city, the people fell to the ground fast asleep, that is the few that bothered to wander the streets at night. By the time they awoke, she would be gone like a ghost.
She would find a hotel, this city seemed to go from splendid to exuberant, there was no such thing as economy or budget. She would sing the same song, the white feathers would seem to fall all around them, a contrast to the dark lady that came walking in. The bellhop and the clerk would find themselves on the floor and she would shift Kaen over her shoulder as her heels clicked their way behind the large marble desk. She grabbed a spare key to one of the occupied rooms. A honeymoon suite, how romantic and how tragic. She would continue to sing as she walked away, taking Kaen with her up the stairs to the penthouse.
She did not knock, she simply thrust the key into the lock and gave the key a sharp turn. Light would filter into an otherwise dark space but she did not require the benefit of sight. She would see more than she ever needed to of a pair of lovers knotted in silk sheets. The pair would not have a chance to respond, Shiori had never stopped singing. The sweet, melodic song continued to fall from her lips and they collapsed into each other. She dropped Kaen onto the floor, his back rested against a closed door Shiori continued her song as she made herself at home. First and foremost, the apprehension of this pair of intruders. She did not kill them, she needed them so she only bound them. It was rather fortuitous that she did not need to find any bindings, this pair had some unusual proclivities and fuzzy handcuffs among other paraphernalia could be seen on the floor and the nightstand. She shook her head, humans were the oddest of all creatures she had ever encountered. She restrained them. She gagged them. Then she stopped her song and let them struggle where they would wake.
She would return to the door and pick up Kaen once more, his flesh was still burning hot. She would drop him into a tub, still fully clothed (unless you want otherwise for your response post). There was nothing remotely sexual about the encounter between Shiori and the honeymoon victims or the young man she kidnapped. She did not bother restraining him, she had used some ninja wire shortly after he was knocked unconscious just in case. She knew it would not hold him for long, she just did not want to be taken by surprise. When he finally regained consciousness he would be hardly in any condition to fight and hopefully a water-filled tub would be enough to extinguish any spontaneous fires that might erupt.
He would awaken in a tub filled with water in a place to expensive to even look at a photograph of. Dark, metal chandeliers contrasted the otherwise white walls, drapes and ceiling. A large pane of glass overlooked the city. He would find his wrists were bound behind him, it would take some effort but he would be able to break free. His injuries would be healed by this time, only the silver markings of scars from times before their encounter would remain. He would be alone in the bathroom but he would hear movement in the room adjacent.
When he was ready to leave the room and the tub, Shiori would be aware from the noise the water makes when displaced. He would find her in the next room brushing her long, damp hair. She looked to be well enough considering the fight and the fire. She was wearing something she found that belonged to the woman that was partially clothed and bound on the bed. The clothes were too big around the waist and too tight around the chest but it would do for now. "Morning," she would comment. The sun had not yet risen, however the sky was turning draw and dawn was approaching.
Shiori, or rather Suna seemed unconcerned about the distressed, bound duo on the bed. She would continue to brush her hair and gaze at her reflection in the mirror. "You're durable and strong," she would continue. "You are also likely quite famished," she nodded in the direction of the pair on the bed. "So I picked you up some breakfast." She was of course referring to the couple on the bed, not the half-eaten plate of chocolate covered strawberries, the edible panties or the corked bottle of champagne.
She did not arrive in the city until after nightfall, not that it was a problem for her, she would have had to wait until after dusk to carry in the unconscious young man if she did not want to garner any unwanted attention. She entered the city sooth covered, her white dress stained dark and her long blond tresses were blackened and unruly. She would appear to be the only vagrant in the city and despite the shadows night afforded she stuck out. There was no low-life district. There was no obvious seedy underbelly. So she started to sing with her enthralling voice a lullaby. This was not a civilian city, the people fell to the ground fast asleep, that is the few that bothered to wander the streets at night. By the time they awoke, she would be gone like a ghost.
She would find a hotel, this city seemed to go from splendid to exuberant, there was no such thing as economy or budget. She would sing the same song, the white feathers would seem to fall all around them, a contrast to the dark lady that came walking in. The bellhop and the clerk would find themselves on the floor and she would shift Kaen over her shoulder as her heels clicked their way behind the large marble desk. She grabbed a spare key to one of the occupied rooms. A honeymoon suite, how romantic and how tragic. She would continue to sing as she walked away, taking Kaen with her up the stairs to the penthouse.
She did not knock, she simply thrust the key into the lock and gave the key a sharp turn. Light would filter into an otherwise dark space but she did not require the benefit of sight. She would see more than she ever needed to of a pair of lovers knotted in silk sheets. The pair would not have a chance to respond, Shiori had never stopped singing. The sweet, melodic song continued to fall from her lips and they collapsed into each other. She dropped Kaen onto the floor, his back rested against a closed door Shiori continued her song as she made herself at home. First and foremost, the apprehension of this pair of intruders. She did not kill them, she needed them so she only bound them. It was rather fortuitous that she did not need to find any bindings, this pair had some unusual proclivities and fuzzy handcuffs among other paraphernalia could be seen on the floor and the nightstand. She shook her head, humans were the oddest of all creatures she had ever encountered. She restrained them. She gagged them. Then she stopped her song and let them struggle where they would wake.
She would return to the door and pick up Kaen once more, his flesh was still burning hot. She would drop him into a tub, still fully clothed (unless you want otherwise for your response post). There was nothing remotely sexual about the encounter between Shiori and the honeymoon victims or the young man she kidnapped. She did not bother restraining him, she had used some ninja wire shortly after he was knocked unconscious just in case. She knew it would not hold him for long, she just did not want to be taken by surprise. When he finally regained consciousness he would be hardly in any condition to fight and hopefully a water-filled tub would be enough to extinguish any spontaneous fires that might erupt.
He would awaken in a tub filled with water in a place to expensive to even look at a photograph of. Dark, metal chandeliers contrasted the otherwise white walls, drapes and ceiling. A large pane of glass overlooked the city. He would find his wrists were bound behind him, it would take some effort but he would be able to break free. His injuries would be healed by this time, only the silver markings of scars from times before their encounter would remain. He would be alone in the bathroom but he would hear movement in the room adjacent.
When he was ready to leave the room and the tub, Shiori would be aware from the noise the water makes when displaced. He would find her in the next room brushing her long, damp hair. She looked to be well enough considering the fight and the fire. She was wearing something she found that belonged to the woman that was partially clothed and bound on the bed. The clothes were too big around the waist and too tight around the chest but it would do for now. "Morning," she would comment. The sun had not yet risen, however the sky was turning draw and dawn was approaching.
Shiori, or rather Suna seemed unconcerned about the distressed, bound duo on the bed. She would continue to brush her hair and gaze at her reflection in the mirror. "You're durable and strong," she would continue. "You are also likely quite famished," she nodded in the direction of the pair on the bed. "So I picked you up some breakfast." She was of course referring to the couple on the bed, not the half-eaten plate of chocolate covered strawberries, the edible panties or the corked bottle of champagne.