Minutes gone by... [Exiting Country]

[Honma Kotone]

His journey to Cloud had become all but obsolete; pointless, even. But where else was he to go now? Nowhere really. His companion, Kaigara, had dissipated thanks to the wasted time in Cloud - which made the friendly giant feel bitterness towards the place, and once again, shinobi in general. Maybe Amori would head back to Sand... Who knew...

[Leaving Country - S-Rank = 30 minutes to leave the country + 1hr delay]

 

[Takaki Saeko]

Nara Bii-Ryu had been a trauma surgeon for over thirty years, and only a few times before had he seen devastation unfold in the way it had for the Soeki, Ijouhassei, and Ekirei Villages. There had been the terrorist bombings perpetrated by Hayata Makoro a few years ago, the massacres that had taken place in the midst of the Lightning Civil War, and of course, the entire tragedy of the first and second Bear-Marsh conflicts. But this time, the origin of the deaths in all three villages was a mystery. There was no war going on in the heartland, no terrorist group taking responsibility, and no obvious findings on the usual screening tests. The entire affair had left a bad taste in the old chief’s mouth and frankly, he was glad to be heading back to Kumo, and letting the younger squads handle the gruntwork.

He had been recalled to Kumo in light of Isaki Kushin’s absence, and also because Kaguya Daisuke might need help running the branch for the first time independently. As a relatively accomplished shinobi, and also because he was traveling the main roads, he had chosen to travel alone for the trip back – highway banditry was at a minimum now that the Army was fully mobilized at the nearby border. It was only a few more kilometers back to the village, so he pressed on, drawing his scarf tighter around the lower half of his face.

He spotted the stumbling, shambling man approaching on the roads, looking bewildered and in pain. Was he drunk? Was he injured? Bii-Ryu sighed – he wasn’t even on duty right now, but he wasn’t a mednin for nothing. At the very least, if it were some sort of ruse to pull him into an ambush, the would-be highwaymen would have a nasty surprise coming their way.

“Are you alright?” asked Bii-Ryu.

 

[Honma Kotone]

Far too gone was his mind, the lack of sleep, water and basic nourishment left the gentle giant groggy to the world. Normally a being of sheer friendliness, empathy and and utter gentlemen, Amori had fallen into a fumbling, disgraced Knight whom had lost his chance to fix his world; he had lost Kiagara, for the brief moment that his spirit blade had transfixed herself onto this plane. Although you could argue that the being wasn't really gone, but simply out of sight in the more physical sense and visible, now, only as her former body: Rījentofurawā, his spirit blade. A voice appeared from close-by, and a slurred giant stumbled till his body faced the stranger. Amori narrowed his eyes, well, he didn't really mean to - the tiredness, you see, had really done a number on his body. One doesn't find sleep too easily when the howl of the wind is the only thing to blanket his body in the night, where rocks are pillows and the far off moon a constant reminder of how alone he actually was.

The silver cladded Knight readied himself, lazily placing one hand around the handle of his blade, tightening his grip as best as possible. It had dawned on the giant, even in his state of heightened deliriousness, that the man before him could possible be a charge sent out from the heart of Kumo's village, sent to capture the man for leaving the village unlawfully, especially after the Kumo Lord had allowed entry without the correct papers. But Amori didn't have the time to waste, he needed to find a solution to his muteness, and thought that the Medical Ninja of Kumo could handle such a task. However, after several days of constant badgering the receptionist of the hospital, it became apparent that most of the senior Med-nin were quite affixed with their own prerogative. There was no point in attempting to mope up vowels, sounds and whatever else makes words, sentences and so forth because they would all just drunken stagger out from the man's mouth, as if they had been hitting the drink on a heavy session.

What did this ninja want, he thought. Amori readied his blade, unsheathing it by an inch, and stepping forward but losing his footing and falling to the ground. His fall was hard, unforgiving and just a sign of how bad of a state Amori was in. But what the med-nin would do with a mute, now that readers, was a very good question.

[Rubbish post, sorry Masao </3]
[MFT: 422]

 

[Takaki Saeko]

What's this now? thought Bii-Ryu as the lurching giant ponderously shifted and turned to face him. He noted with no small degree of irony that the denizens of all shinobi villages were constantly shifting and turning, craning their necks and tilting their heads in an endless, monotonous dance that permeated all of their roleplay in the game of life, from the moment they set foot in their village's academy to the very moment they died. More worrisome, however was the fact that this one was going for the broadsword strapped to his waist. The old chief took a wary step back, cracking his knuckles in preparation for a fight. That he was visibly unarmed was not a problem - the shadows cast by his own body, and indeed that of his would-be attacker, were all of the armament he needed to take on any enemy.

Before the inevitable lunge, however, the giant clattered forward into a heap on the ground. Bii-Ryu raised an eyebrow, calling forth tendrils of murky shadow to pin the man's body prone, just in case.

"I asked you if you were alright, not if I could make your day," said the chief, not unkindly, as he knelt to better study the stricken man's face. "I am a medical shinobi of Kumogakure, and I am not your enemy unless you continue to resist me. Now, I'll let the bonds loose, but no more fighting please," he said, slowly undoing the shadow confinement. "Tell me your name. Mine is Nara."

The silence was overpowering.

"Did someone remove your tongue?" he finally asked, although not in a joking manner. Ripping the tongue from a person's mouth was still a surprisingly common punishment in Lightning Country, for all of its claims of modernity. Old habits - old cruelties - died hard. "Can you write?" he asked, reaching into a satchel and presenting the giant a notebook and a pen.