Private Reflections from a missing nin? (Shinjo) (Dual contract)

[Kureji]

It has been a week since their debut. And in that week, so much has happened to the former puppet. For one, he was no longer a human puppet, and two, his mind is even more fragmented than before, with the occasional interrupting thoughts of Kota. Was it past him Kota? Or was it Moon Country Kota? The whole thing is confusing to him, but he had decided for himself that this was the path he was going to walk.

He usually does everything on a whim, thinking nothing of the consequences nor what he might be even getting into. But now... Well, maybe he just needs to sit back and reflect. Does he regret any of his choices? Not in the slightest. But he also needs to think back and ask himself who is he, to not get confused with what happened those past seven days.

He thought about having a more personal talk. But with who? Maybe Migoya, but their relationship is purely business. They use Migoya to get fame, and he is using them to do some dirty work. Kureji doesn't feel really comfortable laying it all out to the Myakashi leader in case the man decides to use it as leverage. Monika? Kureji shook his head, while she is very vocal about what she thinks, he doesn't really know how she'll react to his conflicting emotions.

That leaves Shinjo. From his understanding, the guy had it rough with some big wig from Cloud. He shrugged, worth giving it a shot to have a talk.

He would go out and search for the man. No use trying to send out a message or a letter, trying to make it a summons. None of them signed up into the band to just be ordered around by someone new. But it'll be one helluva explanation to tell him what happened after their debut.

(OOC note: This thread takes place 1 week after mission)

 

[Ryuu Tama]

Shinjo never thought of seven days being very long, but it was amazing how long something took when you were sober.

After the chaos of their concert the group did a split to hide out just like last time. It made it harder to connect them back to Migoya and would hold up this appearance that they actually just randomly worked together; which was kind of true. They did actually get along outside of being a band though. All 3 of them wanted the same thing, and that was some form of anarchy to knock the world off its current tilt; just had different ideas about how it should be brought about and why. It as inevitable that the trio got along beyond the means on which they played music for, but at the same time they were also natural loners; going into hiding after a big score was just normal for them. Missing Shnobi usually tended to fall under that kind of path by either purpose or accident, and they very rarely remained teams when they did come together for something. It was the nature of the lifestyle. Things were much easier to control when you didn’t have to worry about friends when it came down to getting away from a sticky situation, or massacring a whole small village because someone pissed you off; which worked out for well Shinjo.

Even before pushing past his brainwashing enough to know he had fucked up, the young 20-somethin’ had naturally been a loner in Kumogakure due to his master’s zealously and his natural disease that made thin air fighting impossible without gear. Friends were non-existent for a member of ANBU; especially one in training. Not everyone could be Ous Notori, after all. So living a life alone in the wild after the concert? Normal. Doing it without anything to drink? Impossible. Shinjo quickly ran out of his reserves about four days ago and was fiending hard for some booze but, true to his word, he had waited at least one whole business week before showing his face in public again.

Of course once he did, it became super easy to find him.

In a small village who’s only source of income was logging was a bar that made up about a third of the entire place. It was the biggest building by far, and looked older than most of the houses that had sprung up around it. Within were nearly twenty tables, a long bar with a surprisingly large selection of booze, and about a quarter of it was filled at all times with people. Most of them were the locals who had nothing better to do, wed to the loggers who filled it up later in the day. About three of these said locals, a woman and two men, were at a bar yucking it up with Shinjo, who had a low-ball glass with a reddish-brown liquid already half drained out. He stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed still like some punk-rocker in a cowboy town. On his face was a genuine smile, though. The people at the bar were laughing, the bartender was chuckling while getting ready to make the missing nin another beverage, and for a change…everything was just normal. Shinjo tossed back the rest of his drink and slid the small glass back at the bartender,

“Another Old Fashioned, drink-slinger.”

 

[Kureji]

After a while, Kureji came upon one of the many bars that pepper the Moon Country. He found it funny for a place deep rooted in religion was also deep rooted in alcohol and booze. Which reminds him, his stomach growled. Now that he isn't a puppet, he has to live like a normal human being. Eat, drink, and sleep are things that were foreign to him for a year. This bar was the biggest one that he's ever been to. Entering, he would feel the atmosphere be at ease. There were a lot of people laughing and smiling. In the center of it was Shinjo. The guy seemed to have such a good time.

What's this feeling? Happiness? Kureji couldn't help but smile himself. And for once, it wasn't a psycho type of smile, but more of a friendly one. When he was a puppet, he had acted his emotions, that being one of the things that had died with the human part of him when he became a construct weapon. But now, his whole brain is flooded with emotions every now and again which makes him kind of just stop to process everything. Shaking out of the trance that his own mind has put him in, he walked right over to where Shinjo and some others were sitting.

Sitting down next to Shinjo, he would slide some yen over to the Bartender. "One round for everyone on me." Everyone in the bar would cheer. To Shinjo, he wouldn't be able to place the voice with anyone he knows. Kureji then looked over at his bandmate, wondering how long it will take him to realize who he is. "Wassup man! Say, what you like to drink, I could go a few rounds of whatever you are having!" He turned back to the bartender, "Hey, buddy, can I get a big heaping plate of some of those cheesy fries with some bacon bits on it?" He turned back to Shinjo, "Man! I'm starving! Anyways, what brings you here?"

 

[Ryuu Tama]

The bartender put down another ruby-ambered colored drink in front of Shinjo. The first thing he did was pluck the orange peel wedged onto the glass and toss in in with the ice before taking a big swallow. It was a bad habit of his but, it got him drunk faster. It didn’t matter if he was 1 cup in or 7; he’d always down half first and then sip the rest. By the time his secret bandmate took a seat down, the ex-Kumogakurian had already started sipping. The people he was yucking it up with had decided to get up and leave, conveniently, right as Kureji sat down. The man’s exuberance threw the fellow Nukenin off a bit, as he didn’t recognize the guy at all.

Then he heard that voice, and throughout the cheers from the bar patrons who were leaving, but now staying, Shinjo smirked a little. Was it actually Kureji? Puppet in disguise? A silent filter of chakra to his nose told the assassin the guy next to him was indeed made out of dude; not wood. So, it couldn’t be him, right?

“Tequila Old Fashioned,” Shinjo responded, “better than the original. Whiskey always has this way of…making me just, the most unlikable person in the damn world. Tequila, on the other hand? A plain godsend. Liquor of the gods past and present! It’s a shame you can only find it reliably this close to the Wind Country…” he sipped it again, the rush of bitters and tequila playing with the sweet agave syrup.
“Gonna miss it when I finally get moving but, beer will do. Hard to screw up beer in any country.” His new talkative companion ordered some cheesefries, Shinjo not even sure if the ‘stranger’ had heard him ranting about tequila or not but his back stiffened when he was asked about his wherabouts.

That little dose of paranoia was in the back of his throat, swirling up and around his brain. Was the guy a shinobi? The huntin’ type? A quick check through the brain fog and Shinjo realized he had been away more than long enough for Miro to travel across the world and back. He could very well be someone from Kumo, a Mercenary, or even his master in a brilliant disguise. Good thing for Kureji that he and Monika had all but softened that edge because the guy was one wrong phrase away from getting their brains blown out; the old Shinjo would have already killed the guy.

“Me? Pfft, just passing through. I like to travel, don’t call anywhere home these days. Home is a bottle in my hand and a roof over my head. Nothing special. No soul-searching, no training, no…whatever the hell excuse people need around her to travel. Just…existing I suppose.”

It actually wasn’t far from the truth. Shinjo left Kumogakure because he was angry. He joined a punk-rock band because he had been angry. He killed; anger. He fornicated; also anger. He drank his brain into oblivion; believe it or not, anger. Yet the last week or so of detoxing and then stumbling on the logging town had been an experience and for the first time since he shot that guy at the Kumogakure gates he felt…human. What was he doing now? Was he really just stirring chaos up for the sake of chaos, or was that also part of his slowly dwindling anger?

Kureji wasn’t the only one who needed someone to talk to, but Shinjo still had a long ways to go to realize he needed it.

 

[Kureji]

Kureji would nod, letting Shinjo know he was listening, but the rocker would grimace at the mention of Wind Country. "I wouldn't know too much about Wind Country. Place seemed pretty boring to me during my time there. Went and skedaddled out when I saw the chance." He replied, the first indicator to Shinjo of who he was talking to. Not like Kureji had told the others that he's a missing from Sand, however they've had enough interactions that Shinjo would have an inkling that Kureji hates boring things. A shot glass of Old Fashioned Tequila slid his way from the bartender. He would give a silent cheer, raising the glass as a thanks to the bartender and downed the drink as he listened to his friend talk. The drink tasted as if fire could be a liquid as it settled down in his stomach, making his vision blurry for a second and making him shake his head.

"Whoo!" He would exclaim, but then quieted down to think of a response to give to Shinjo. "Hey, everyone needs a break from everything. Me? Well... I have had nothing better to do for the most part. You can say being impulsive is my main weakness. I am more of a do-er than a thinker. But as time went on, I realized I was on my own, I had to actually think things over or else... Poof, gone." He would gesture with his hands as if that poof meant an explosion. "Maybe I always want a fast changing environment. Maybe I'm just crazy. I had made up multiple personas in order to confuse and keep the unwanted off my back. Eventually, I found people who would catch my vibes. For the first time in a while, I did not act like I was someone else."

All of which he had said, would be true. Sand Village yielded nothing for him except the want to use him after he had survived a traumatic event that had ganted him powers. Once he realized he wasn't getting anywhere in life living in that Village, he left in a heartbeat. Because of his personality, change is something that he would want to happen as fast as possible. And most of all, his band. He felt at ease around them, as if he finally found a place where people can catch his vibes and he can be perfectly fine by the end of the night. "Bartender! Hit me up with another Tequila!"

 

[Ryuu Tama]

“I can relate,” the assassin said flatly. Kureji’s words sparked something inside of him again. Anger? No, more like resentment. For not the first time in his life Shin wondered if Kumogakure had been a life lived “too fast, too hard.” He was moved into the village and picked up by the ANBU Sennin; not even a full month after murdering his own father in a fit of rage. From there it was harsh training until he became the pinnacle of what it meant to be a shinobi...even at a young age. He stood toe-to-toe with Miro in a combat that he had inevitably lost, but not before breaking out of the dreaded Uchiha’s signature Genjutsu first. His potential and talent were nigh limitless by design and yet…here he was in a bar in the ass-end of Nowhere; population: a handful of hicks. Pride, and love, had been his downfall and ever since then the assassin worked hard to break his dependence on both of those things.

Only to find it impossible to do either.

“Heh, weird but, the same for me. I can’t even begin to explain everything I had been running from trying to break my chains only to find just how tiring being alone really was. You ever heard of that band, Devil’s Advocates? Their lead singer’s voice hit something inside of me the first time I heard her and I haven’t been able to look back since. I’m alone right now, but, I can’t wait till their next session. I’ll be back in there, rocking out with everyone else again…because it’s a feeling I couldn’t find anywhere else. Music brings people together just faster than anything else can break them, and it’s shocking no one has used it as a weapon yet….”

…a sly smirk played at the corners of his mouth as Shinjo held up one of his hands, sliding it across his neck at the bartender and then holding one finger up. ‘Cut me off and get a beer,” was the signal, and the drink-slinger obliged. The liquor was starting to make his lips numb and loose, but he liked the spot he was in. The man behind the counter pulled out a brown bottle from a chest of ice under the bar, then slapped the top against the counter to cause suds to spill out slightly before putting it down. Shin pushed his glass back and picked up the beer to nurse on it and stretch the perfect buzz he had right now.

Who was this guy sitting next to him, he suddenly wondered. The ex-assassin couldn’t put a finger on it, but he was really vibing with this dude for some reason. The only people he had ever gotten along with could be counted on one hand; and one of those was under the guise of a false identity. Without hesitation he wondered again if he had actually really loved that girl he was engaged too, or if it was just teenage hormones overriding his training. Shinjo had long ago let go of the guilt he carried over her murder; it was his fault. Tearing himself apart with drugs and alcohol over it didn’t help anything, and in fact forced the one person who gave a crap about him to do something so over the top it ended with him betraying the entire military he had been trained to assist. So when it came to getting along with someone, the time-stopper often checked himself, the situation, and the environment before allowing himself to be attached to anything or anyone - after all, that was a liability. But this guy next to him? Something about this dude just relaxed him outright and they talked as if they knew each other for a hot minute now. It was random, but…

“So where is your next destination? You need some protection on the road? I got some training, can help yah get there without a scratch and I could use a little yen. Gonna run myself dry here at the bar anyways.”

The bartender suddenly got a “yeah that’s the freakin’ truth” look on his face as he was wiping out Shin’s glass.

 

[Kureji]

"The Devil's Advocates..." Kureji's voice trailed off. He had come up with the name on the spot and hoped that it would stick. He remembered his face lighting up when the other two agreed about the name of it. How they rocked on stage, how each react in their own way, all different, but they were all supporting each other. "All three of them seemed to just flood with charisma. Them's the types of people that can bring change to the world. Just what kinds of changes are only limited by what they're willing to do. Their message is clear. People tired of being pushed around by the top dogs of these major villages that have ninja govern the people. You know what I say on that? Give the power to the people. All this yen business literally starves the good working man if he can't make ends meet. All for what? Something us humans have put on ourselves in order to oppress some of the lower classmen." He would turn to the bartender and raise his glass, "No offense to you my friend, you are trying to make ends meet too would be my guess." Turning back to Shinjo, he would listen to the man speak once more, asking if he would like some protection for some yen.

The man would chuckle to himself as he laid out the amount he owed to the bartender, then gave the rest of the yen he had in his pocket to Shinjo. "I can't lie, even after all this talk of how useless currency actually is, I still know none of us can't live without it in this type of society. Okay friend. I'm planning on heading to Earth Country pretty soon. Heard the band will be chilling there for a bit. Maybe snag myself an autograph while I'm there." He's gotta admit, how had his friend still not know that Kureji is in fact Kureji? Maybe he's gotta spell it out for him.

"The guitarist, the one with the brown hair, he's kinda crazy don't you think? Not the crazy type that nobody would trust around, but rather the one that is taking way too much risks, mainly with himself being at the other end of some trouble coming his way."

(next round of posts will be the last before I send up the specific search request, I promise)

 

[Ryuu Tama]

Shinjo pulled on his beer as the fan began to spill out why he loved the band when it finally clicked. He coughed a little, almost spewing the suds out of his mouth to look over at Kureji with that ‘are you for fucking real’ look; his bandmate was a real boy now! The quick disbelief on his face was expertly covered up with a simple,
“Yeah man, that’s cool. I just like their music though, not so much the message.” A straight lie, one he knew his friend would pick up on immediately. The bassist cracked a devilish smirk and wondered how far the two could bullshit each other on the way to Earth Country. Could he keep up a persona without cracking up? Normally that wouldn’t even been a problem with his training but when there was a joke involved…man, having a sense of humor kind of sucked for his line of work - the thought suddenly crossing his mind.

Finishing off the beer and putting down the yen to cover his tab, Shinjo stood up and stretched as Kureji went on about getting an autograph from his favorite band member - himself - and the satirical sociopathy almost destroyed the face the ex-assassin was trying to put on already.
“Iunno man, that bassist? Dude that guitar he uses is siiiick. Like, wicked sick. But if I had to get an autograph from anyone, it’s gonna have to be the lead singer. I want her to sign my gun,” the rockstar pretending to not be a rockstar commented to his fellow punk rocker with suggestive eyebrow wiggles.

It was going to be a great trip.

[2141 out of 1500 WC]
[MFT]

 

[Kureji]

Kureji would catch on quickly to Shinjo's lie. Back before they had performed, when they had all gathered, Migoya included. The talk about watching the top dogs getting punished for how they act. The overall was for society to wake up to reality, to not live by the normality that chains them to the higher ups. But seriously, they make some damn great music! He grabbed one of the coins that he had set down and started absent-mindedly flipping it. "What they really need is some drummer. Dunno why, but I feel like that small puppet was just there to fill the spot for the time being. All great bands have drummers." He would shrug, "Who knows, they may stumble across a permanent drummer for their band." Setting the coin back down, he would listen as Shinjo spoke, obviously talking himself up and then talking about Monika of getting her autograph. "Man, why just stop at getting an autograph on your gun, why not permanent marker that across your chest? But with a real permanent marker that won't come off after some million scrubs with a bar of soap." He realized that he had said afterwards, "Wait, tattoos exist! Forgot about that!" Face palming himself, he would flash an award winning smile and then say, "Well, I'm gonna get some fresh air, might find something cool if I look around hard enough. You might as well join me, body guard dude."

discovery of contract of your choice (Going for Kami)
(1689/1500)

 

[Ninpocho Admin]

You've found Kami! Do you accept?​

 

[Ryuu Tama]

Double-Down. Yes.

 

[Kureji]

Yup!