The swarms of lights, the flushes of flesh-wrapped heat pursuing their non-flesh bound counterparts like moths to the flame, and the consistent roar of noise made it all the clearer that one was in the bustling heart of the city at the wrong time of night. Or right time, if you were a delinquent. As a proper citizen and shinobi the only time Yukiin found himself here was with a goal to accomplish and made his interactions appropriately short, getting what he came for and then leaving in the most direct way possible. Tonight was a bit of a different matter and while he found the entire suggestion to be "ludicrous" and "a fantastic waste of time and research potential", as he said in his sternly worded complaint letter, it was apparently in the village's best interests to advertise its walking weapon caches as "personable instead of walking freezers", a phrase that he did not use but which was used at him. If he had any nerves left that might've touched one.
Entertainment for the masses made out of dragging the lab born monster into the light of day to pretend to be something it wasn't but unfortunately for the film crew that had decided to meet him at his house instead of on location. They seemed to believe he would do something filmable before he even got there which was foolish considering he spent the entire movement to location reading the compelling and appropriate literature on the subject, though he couldn't quite figure out why people lost their clothes halfway through it. Still, the magazine man had assured him these were quality date preparation goods so Yukiin didn't really understand why the cameramen seemed so intent on watching him read and snickering to themselves.
He tried asking but one of them pointed to a small taped sign on their equipment that said 'Do not interfere with shinobi in their natural habitat' and he thought that was probably good advice, some of his associates were a bit stabby. Yukiin discarded the books which he'd been juggling between arms and tendrils to speed read through an entire library in one trip downtown, handing them off to one of the camera crew and asking him to hold onto them until he could return these works home. He couldn't certain he'd gleaned all their secrets from just one read through and he didn't have any of his sealing inks or the like to determine and unravel any Fuuinjutsu built into it.
Shrinking his form, sliding each of his extra appendages back into his skin, he adjusted himself from underneath as the icy slurry of himself made a few last minute touches to what he was wearing and what he was wearing on top of what he was wearing. The skin in use was more appropriate than the younger body he'd been occupying before now, he needed to make some changes anyways and he still had more room to improve, but his actual attire had also been altered for the occasion. He had far less direct control over that as it wasn't chakra based which annoyed him but that was the norm here in Kumogakure - you wore clothes made out of material things.
"It isn't me, but nothing is these days." Yukiin muttered to himself, pulling the door open to enter into the restaurant, predetermined, pre-scouted days ago, and pre staffed with people he'd met prior so that he felt confident he could kill them if they tried to poison his food and pass off the buck. Not that he would let that happen, he knew where they got their supplies from and had checked in with them as well to ensure that they were not passing along any toxic goods to the local businessess...so if anything did happen, he knew who to blame. No individual in the kitchen had unrestricted access to any dish or its ingredients, the place was too small, there was always at least two or three other people in the kitchen working, and with only a dozen or so staff in general he could eliminate the handful in the kitchen without serious impact to business health - they could bounce back from losing a quarter of their staff.
All it took was two weeks of foreknowledge and several excursions, well worth the knowledge of security.
In short - the only loose end was his acquaintance for the evening. For that reason, he bought all the seats in the establishment for the next three hours and filled them with associates of his from work. It would be impossible for her to bring her own men in and attempt to run a tanto into his neck without doing it herself or infiltrating his branch, at which point he had bigger fish to fry anyways if Kahako was allowing traitors into their midsts.
Well, except for a couple of ANBU guys doing a stakeout in the corner, they refused to cooperate with his "insanely excessive safeguarding measures" so he left them their table so they could sulk around and threaten staff if they came too close. If he was insane for taking precautions they were insane for trying to compensate for not doing so by being scared of having their necks snapped by waitstaff, a point he accentuated by snapping his own neck backwards to look at them.
"Please don't snap my vulnerable neck, thats my weak spot." He spoke, casting his voice from the man who had shown his discomfort. It seemed wide and obvious to him, these small body ticks, but now it was obvious to everyone since it had been announced verbally. There was a rumble of laughter that only the people exposed to the dead could give out in response to the subject, the humor typically reserved for the Medical branch.
One of the maskless men narrowed his eyes and took a heavy drag from his cigarette as a response while the target of his mockery flushed a deeper color. Clearly a student on the team, new to the game, easy to get under his skin. So was his own skin though as touched a senbon in his own neck that had most likely been planted there by one of his senior's deft hands. Fair play, it was illegal but he couldn't prove they'd put it there, even the camera crew wouldn't have a device fast enough to catch that kind of movement, so he just had to let it slide as easily as the weapon slid out from his flesh. A twitch off the jugular too, if he had one, so it wasn't lethal...it just looked lethal.
The abomination in man-skin turned back to face the entrance from his previously turned towards the back table position, that is to say he snapped his neck back around, a bit shocked but not exactly changing colors. A pair of delicate fingers plucked the weapon out without so much as a grimace or sound. He set the thing down on the table, bloodless, coated in a fine silver fluid as the flesh of his neck mended itself in a crystalline flush before it recolored itself into skin.
"So, how long have you been there and how many drinks until I get a new first impression? Don't mind the needle, would you believe it was a war wound fighting on the front lines in heroic defense of the Raikage? If not, please add to the previous total how many it will take to make that seem plausible; I need a good barometric for lies."
Entertainment for the masses made out of dragging the lab born monster into the light of day to pretend to be something it wasn't but unfortunately for the film crew that had decided to meet him at his house instead of on location. They seemed to believe he would do something filmable before he even got there which was foolish considering he spent the entire movement to location reading the compelling and appropriate literature on the subject, though he couldn't quite figure out why people lost their clothes halfway through it. Still, the magazine man had assured him these were quality date preparation goods so Yukiin didn't really understand why the cameramen seemed so intent on watching him read and snickering to themselves.
He tried asking but one of them pointed to a small taped sign on their equipment that said 'Do not interfere with shinobi in their natural habitat' and he thought that was probably good advice, some of his associates were a bit stabby. Yukiin discarded the books which he'd been juggling between arms and tendrils to speed read through an entire library in one trip downtown, handing them off to one of the camera crew and asking him to hold onto them until he could return these works home. He couldn't certain he'd gleaned all their secrets from just one read through and he didn't have any of his sealing inks or the like to determine and unravel any Fuuinjutsu built into it.
Shrinking his form, sliding each of his extra appendages back into his skin, he adjusted himself from underneath as the icy slurry of himself made a few last minute touches to what he was wearing and what he was wearing on top of what he was wearing. The skin in use was more appropriate than the younger body he'd been occupying before now, he needed to make some changes anyways and he still had more room to improve, but his actual attire had also been altered for the occasion. He had far less direct control over that as it wasn't chakra based which annoyed him but that was the norm here in Kumogakure - you wore clothes made out of material things.
"It isn't me, but nothing is these days." Yukiin muttered to himself, pulling the door open to enter into the restaurant, predetermined, pre-scouted days ago, and pre staffed with people he'd met prior so that he felt confident he could kill them if they tried to poison his food and pass off the buck. Not that he would let that happen, he knew where they got their supplies from and had checked in with them as well to ensure that they were not passing along any toxic goods to the local businessess...so if anything did happen, he knew who to blame. No individual in the kitchen had unrestricted access to any dish or its ingredients, the place was too small, there was always at least two or three other people in the kitchen working, and with only a dozen or so staff in general he could eliminate the handful in the kitchen without serious impact to business health - they could bounce back from losing a quarter of their staff.
All it took was two weeks of foreknowledge and several excursions, well worth the knowledge of security.
In short - the only loose end was his acquaintance for the evening. For that reason, he bought all the seats in the establishment for the next three hours and filled them with associates of his from work. It would be impossible for her to bring her own men in and attempt to run a tanto into his neck without doing it herself or infiltrating his branch, at which point he had bigger fish to fry anyways if Kahako was allowing traitors into their midsts.
Well, except for a couple of ANBU guys doing a stakeout in the corner, they refused to cooperate with his "insanely excessive safeguarding measures" so he left them their table so they could sulk around and threaten staff if they came too close. If he was insane for taking precautions they were insane for trying to compensate for not doing so by being scared of having their necks snapped by waitstaff, a point he accentuated by snapping his own neck backwards to look at them.
"Please don't snap my vulnerable neck, thats my weak spot." He spoke, casting his voice from the man who had shown his discomfort. It seemed wide and obvious to him, these small body ticks, but now it was obvious to everyone since it had been announced verbally. There was a rumble of laughter that only the people exposed to the dead could give out in response to the subject, the humor typically reserved for the Medical branch.
One of the maskless men narrowed his eyes and took a heavy drag from his cigarette as a response while the target of his mockery flushed a deeper color. Clearly a student on the team, new to the game, easy to get under his skin. So was his own skin though as touched a senbon in his own neck that had most likely been planted there by one of his senior's deft hands. Fair play, it was illegal but he couldn't prove they'd put it there, even the camera crew wouldn't have a device fast enough to catch that kind of movement, so he just had to let it slide as easily as the weapon slid out from his flesh. A twitch off the jugular too, if he had one, so it wasn't lethal...it just looked lethal.
The abomination in man-skin turned back to face the entrance from his previously turned towards the back table position, that is to say he snapped his neck back around, a bit shocked but not exactly changing colors. A pair of delicate fingers plucked the weapon out without so much as a grimace or sound. He set the thing down on the table, bloodless, coated in a fine silver fluid as the flesh of his neck mended itself in a crystalline flush before it recolored itself into skin.
"So, how long have you been there and how many drinks until I get a new first impression? Don't mind the needle, would you believe it was a war wound fighting on the front lines in heroic defense of the Raikage? If not, please add to the previous total how many it will take to make that seem plausible; I need a good barometric for lies."