Requesting Entry Knock Knock

[Mienai]

After dealing with the hassle of the paperwork and legality of docking her ship in the port, Medusa and Hades had made the trek towards Kumo. The climate as vastly different than either were used to, having been used to a thick humidity and unforgiving heat. It was almost refreshing to be in a place with actual vegetation, but the weather was much colder than either was really prepared for. Well, at least what Medusa was prepared for. Hades seemed to be handling things fine, as he trudged next to her. Medusa had worn a thicker black leather jacket and a red shirt underneath. She had forgone her traditional hats in exchange for a lighter outward appearance. Hades wore a simple black suit and tie, his metal

faceplate hiding his expression, but his soulless eyes always still visible. Medusa side-eyed him for a moment, but chose to keep h

er comments to herself for now. Many would find traveling with a silent companion challenging, but she found a sort of unspoken comradery from the man. Their relationship was far more intuitive than communicative. Overall it worked, but sometimes she got a vibe from him that he was harboring far more mysteries than she could begin to contemplate. There had only ever been one time she had ever heard Hades voice, and it was when the man harnessed the spirits of the damned, borrowing their voices to project his own. It was like thousands speaking at once, and it was haunting. The man was rarely ever pushed into that persona of himself though.

Looking up, Medusa noticed what was depicted as the entrance to the village. Large rock formations that created a narrow pass into what would be the village. Reaching into her back pocket, Medusa withdrew her paperwork again. She hadn't needed to use it to leave Suna, but that seemed to be due to the lax environment. Suna was a mixed crowd, and their practices was what had really allowed her to operate so securely without really having to face too much backlash politically for her and her gang's actions. It was a nice place to live, but she wasn't sure how other villages operated. She wasn't sure if they were likely to receive any kind of hospitable greeting, but luckily her reputation was fairly under the radar, like she preferred it. It wouldn't be good in her line of business to be too well known or she wouldn't be able to pull leads and con jobs as well as she did.

Hades surprised her when he came to a stop, turning to his employer and halting her movement as they approached the gate. Medusa raised a finely plucked eyebrow to the man, curious as to what the hold up could possible be. Hades looked around briefly, perhaps hearing something in the distance. He pointed forward, her green eyes looking in the direction he had pointed in sharply. She didn't see anything of interest, but could understand that perhaps he was indicating that they proceed with caution. Medusa just gave him a casual smirk and shrugged. "I wouldn't stress about it, Tinman. We run into any trouble, I got this." Hades just continued to stare. Medusa let out a low chuckled and strutted confidently forward. Let's see if the foreigners were curious.

[Requesting Entrance with Mienai and NPC Hades]

 

[Okada Kaji]

“Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.”
– Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr

The phrase was as anecdotal as it was factual: the more things change, the more they stay the same… Change was essential in life and in many ways, unstoppable. To step in the way of that change often meant being washed aside in a powerful tide. In the great northern sheets of ice that spanned the hidden cloud’s region, the raging tide was more like an avalanche. It was the way of nature to crush resistance. Indeed, despite all of our advancements as a society, we are but specks that go unfelt and unseen on a world that keeps on spinning. Say nothing of the ninja, whose whole purpose is to be less relevant to their surroundings as an ant on a log. The ninja quietly resides until they are called into action. A ninja, the true ninja, is not a force for change; not the wine that flows but the cork that keeps it in place. The ninja protects, it preserves.

When the warm southern winds roll in from the lowlands they condensate, it results in a chilling white haze that creeps along the face of this great bastion. What was a proper hidden village without dangerous surroundings to obfuscate it from the ever-expanding outside world? The many defensive features of Dragontooth Pass included winding crags where scouts could keep a vigilant watch. Should it be you approaching our village, you’d do well to be mindful of the passing bird of prey, as it watches you the way it would an unsuspecting field mouse.

On came a pair of long-travelers, or so that seemed apparent with how the masculine-framed one lumbered through the snow. Outsiders always found a challenge in traversing the mountain. In this case, it was a polar opposite to where these two had come from. As a former outsider himself, the former lord remembered what it was like to be coddled in the mountain’s cold grasp for the first time.

Kaji Okada is likely a name you’ve read before; it’s one as old as dirt to the fast lives of ninja, but another insignificant scratch on the list of many accounts in this world. As far as this name concerned the pair making their approach, Kaji might as well have been nameless, as that is what it meant to be a ninja. Even the legends go humbly— “I will serve, I will be of service.” Though, these days such mundane tasks as gate duty was far below a task of his station, and more a thing to do. After all, how else might an aging ninja still maintain his oath and honor?

He was bound in the protection of a cloak made from the fur of a massive winter wolf; one masterfully stitched with a crimson leather collar on the front that shielded his jawline from the elements. Wise eyes with dull emeraldine pupils scanned the pair of Sunan wanderers beneath a mop of sheared salt and pepper locks. The long cloak did well to frame the physique of Kaji Okada with mystery; had he diminished or did bulking season recently pass? The black wrapping of his eel-skinned blade with the emerald-set pommel flashed once as he landed without a sound in front of the present company. The blade vanished into a fold of his cloak and he came forward with winter boots gnashing through the snow.

“You’re far from home” spoke the gatekeeper, knowing and letting it be known. “I trust the road has been kind to you” he added keenly, intended as a suggestion for the travelers to speak up in the event anything unsightly might have harried their passage. There were monsters on the mountain, after all, you just had to be unlucky enough to find them. All the meanwhile, a brown leather-bound hand waited outstretched for the procedural handling of identification. He need not ask, as the two were clearly veteran ninja from their demeanor.
“From whereabouts?” He asked, offering a bit of small talk as he took their passports and gave them a knowing once over. Any ninja worthy of their profession knew how to fabricate one— and just as easily he passed them back. “I don’t mean to pry, of course, the passport says it all. “I just haven’t met one like you in a long time.” He always had the nerve, and this time it was insistent towards Medusa, though I’m unsure if that is exactly what the passport read or not. “The ninja of the Hidden Sand are known to me.”

-- Kaji Okada has entered the thread.
-- Entry Granted, but why not stay a moment to have a chat?

 

[Okada Kaji]

Thread Left Due to Inactivity.​