Shinjo took his time moving through the countries. His exit from Kumogakure was explosive and poorly timed on a lot of levels. The sudden removal cut the assassin off from his funds, his food, and his housing. He had lead a rough childhood, and fell into some dredges with substance abuse that led up to his brainwashing; but never had he been homeless. The feeling was a filthy one, and the ex-shinobi hated every last second of it. Yet, it had given him time to see an introspection of who he was and what he wanted out of life now that he had hit ‘rock bottom’, as they say. Whatever Miro had wanted to kill in his emotions regarding his late fiancée was for sure gone. The memory of her death, and the murder of her family at his hands had burned itself on his brain, but he no longer felt guilty about it. He couldn’t. It’s like he wasn’t allowed to. But anger? Fury over what the shinobi village had done to him, and his head? That, was there. A building rage that constantly threatened to take over the ex-assassin’s every fiber.
That rage of course only got the youth in trouble. It didn’t take long for Shin to find himself back at a bar with whiskey in hand, and an even shorter amount of time in finding a fight. Before three weeks had passed, the ex-assassin had already managed to get a bad reputation. It only further punctuated itself when the bars wouldn’t let him in based purely on his face and recognizable bald head. So he started getting tricky. The hair came back on its own eventually. The side-effect of losing it like he had from a genjutsu finally wore off. Then Shinjo changed his outfit, his sense of self, and learned how to be social all over again. Time trapped in a cage did a number on those skills too. It lead to a lot of awkward social situations being met with a violently argumentative personality that boiled up from his repressed rage; but by the time three months had passed, Shinjo was barely recognizable. He got back into the bars he had been kicked out of, at first, by the simple change in looks. When they caught on to that, he got in by being part of a band. It didn’t matter how much the owners hated him, so long as the regulars kept paying to see the band he played in. Of course, it wasn’t like Shin was the greatest musician either, at least at first. Creativity was all but lost on him when he started, and he really couldn’t sing, so the friend he had made in the band shortly before joining them suggested the ex-ninja play the bass.
Shin hated how fast he got good at it. Within a week of constant practice, even while binge drinking with his new companions, Shinjo all but mastered how to play a bass guitar. It reminded him how quickly he had been able to pick up Genjutsu and Kenjutsu and master them both and before long his relationship with the instrument turned into a hateful need; because it was the only thing getting him back in bars.
Now he was entering Moon Country, solo. The band he had been with finally had enough of him starting fights and getting them all but blacklisted from most of the local bars. It was so bad, they actually had to drive him out of the country he was in and into another one. Not guards, not military, but a bunch of fellow punk rockers outright kicked his ass and sent him packing. It helped he was stinking drunk when everything went down, but the bassist got the hint. It came down to either stay and kill the idiots who unknowingly ganged up on a drunk ex-hit man, or, go somewhere else to ruin his reputation.
Now he stood at the crest of a cliff overlooking the lay of the land. Strapped to his back inside of a cloth case was his bass, with his clothes rough and baggy. His hair was long save the left side which was shaved short on purpose - something about drove the girls crazy. His eyes were set in a permanent red iris on black, what used to be a sign he was using his Dojutsu, eventually he just got used to having them ‘turned on.’ Originally he did it to just to fit in more, but his ability to manipulate time had gotten better with their extended use. They didn’t bleed as much either, not that it didn’t help his image when they did; quite the opposite actually. It had been a long couple of days without any alcohol, but looking down on the city below he was sure there was going to be something fun down there. Sex, booze, or a fight; either way, it’d be alright. The ex-shinobi turned punk rocker slowly began to descend…
[Run Time = 1 Hour to Enter]
[MFT]
That rage of course only got the youth in trouble. It didn’t take long for Shin to find himself back at a bar with whiskey in hand, and an even shorter amount of time in finding a fight. Before three weeks had passed, the ex-assassin had already managed to get a bad reputation. It only further punctuated itself when the bars wouldn’t let him in based purely on his face and recognizable bald head. So he started getting tricky. The hair came back on its own eventually. The side-effect of losing it like he had from a genjutsu finally wore off. Then Shinjo changed his outfit, his sense of self, and learned how to be social all over again. Time trapped in a cage did a number on those skills too. It lead to a lot of awkward social situations being met with a violently argumentative personality that boiled up from his repressed rage; but by the time three months had passed, Shinjo was barely recognizable. He got back into the bars he had been kicked out of, at first, by the simple change in looks. When they caught on to that, he got in by being part of a band. It didn’t matter how much the owners hated him, so long as the regulars kept paying to see the band he played in. Of course, it wasn’t like Shin was the greatest musician either, at least at first. Creativity was all but lost on him when he started, and he really couldn’t sing, so the friend he had made in the band shortly before joining them suggested the ex-ninja play the bass.
Shin hated how fast he got good at it. Within a week of constant practice, even while binge drinking with his new companions, Shinjo all but mastered how to play a bass guitar. It reminded him how quickly he had been able to pick up Genjutsu and Kenjutsu and master them both and before long his relationship with the instrument turned into a hateful need; because it was the only thing getting him back in bars.
Now he was entering Moon Country, solo. The band he had been with finally had enough of him starting fights and getting them all but blacklisted from most of the local bars. It was so bad, they actually had to drive him out of the country he was in and into another one. Not guards, not military, but a bunch of fellow punk rockers outright kicked his ass and sent him packing. It helped he was stinking drunk when everything went down, but the bassist got the hint. It came down to either stay and kill the idiots who unknowingly ganged up on a drunk ex-hit man, or, go somewhere else to ruin his reputation.
Now he stood at the crest of a cliff overlooking the lay of the land. Strapped to his back inside of a cloth case was his bass, with his clothes rough and baggy. His hair was long save the left side which was shaved short on purpose - something about drove the girls crazy. His eyes were set in a permanent red iris on black, what used to be a sign he was using his Dojutsu, eventually he just got used to having them ‘turned on.’ Originally he did it to just to fit in more, but his ability to manipulate time had gotten better with their extended use. They didn’t bleed as much either, not that it didn’t help his image when they did; quite the opposite actually. It had been a long couple of days without any alcohol, but looking down on the city below he was sure there was going to be something fun down there. Sex, booze, or a fight; either way, it’d be alright. The ex-shinobi turned punk rocker slowly began to descend…
[Run Time = 1 Hour to Enter]
[MFT]