Somewhere along all the missions they had doled out to me, they suddenly made the assumption I was a real shinobi capable of doing all the subtle and intensive work of a trained ninja. Whoever was responsible for doing the paperwork on these was a complete lunatic seeing as how I was only recently back and had barely made it to Chuunin before leaving the village. While they couldn't know if I continued my training or not, they had no proof I was capable of performing a mission that was as delicate as this.
Luckily I wasn't a slob, and I had seen every corner of the world during my journey. Being in the darker sectors of an area didn't phase me. It was all about blending in and looking like you belonged. If you seem to leave more of an impression than you mean to simply by walking as normal then you weren't doing your job right.
By not shaving this morning, changing my attire a bit, and altering my normal facial expression I can appear a different person.
These individuals were not only of a unique bloodline, but they were desperate. Dealing with those willing to do anything to maintain themselves, and their family are always dangerous. That's also perhaps the most tragic part of this. The family is suffering. Those capable have taken up the role of supporting their loved ones through more nefarious means. Everyone is affected by this and its ripples outwards into the village. While some will always be a part of the less desired, some are forced to turn to it in times of need. The Black Bazaar was as unwelcoming as the name implies. Eyes peer at you from every shadowed mass, thugs roam the streets, and all manner of things less savory. The Seikon had been rumored to be the new muscle in the area. With their gifts they were more than equipped to dish out punishment and never be seen doing it. Their appearances were a telltale giveaway, but also a tool used for intimidation. Seikon naturally generated an unusual form of chakra that was unique to their heritage and leaked from their forms like a sand from a sieve.
It didn't take me long to find a pair of the blurry bruisers. They were carrying a young man in between the two, some poor sap caught amidst all of this. I casually followed behind them, keeping to the same pace I had been at when spotting them. Tailing someone was a challenge, trailing those trained in the art of stealth was even harder. It became less about being able to remain undetected and more about when they made you and what you could do in the brief window of opportunity you had before that happened. Experience had me prepare for this, however, and the more that seemed to go on around them, the less they wouldn't notice someone who belonged in the seedy area. From a darkened alley emerged a pale-skinned person, running towards the group and bashing into one of them or at least that had been the intention. In a very seikon-like fashion, he phased through the tackle and the aggressor sacked the struggling fellow in the middle, both collapsing to the ground. As the thugs moved in to separate them, they watched as the ashen attacker enveloped the person, their shape morphing into a pile of goo. Soon there was nothing left but a writhing puddle, and before either could react it was sucked into the earth, a glowing seal on a steadily crumbling piece of paper was all that was left.
I contained my grin, but strode on by all the same, not giving it more than the obligatory glance. The two seemed baffled and were ripping through the clothes that had been on the stranger who attacked them. It only took me a few minutes until I got into the by-the-hour apartment I took the liberty of renting. As I turned the key to the door, I stepped into the small living space and looked at the terrified man who was sitting at the table near the less than modest kitchen. The clay clone grab and swap had worked perfectly, a little paper seal tucked away inside it guaranteed the safe removal of my friend here. Was he actually my friend? No, but he would soon be.
Sweeping away the dark cap I had concealing my hair, I shrugged off the jacket that hid the Sunagakure village headband tied around my arm. At the sight of the badge he seemed to let out a sigh of relief. From my coat pocket I retrieved a small box of dark chocolate covered butter cookies and set them on the table, "Have a few, they'll help calm your nerves some."<i></i> I offered a wide smile to help him relax, and sat down opposite him. While he didn't know me, he knew he was at least no worse off with a stranger than in the hands of the two thugs, "Tell me everything about the Kogu, and why they brought you down here."<i></i>
He could see it in my eyes the determination I had to bring this whole thing down. I already had them on enough petty stuff to report back, but I wanted to know what this person did. To really figure out how deep in the Kogu were and what his role was in all of this.
Word Count: 911
[MFT]
Luckily I wasn't a slob, and I had seen every corner of the world during my journey. Being in the darker sectors of an area didn't phase me. It was all about blending in and looking like you belonged. If you seem to leave more of an impression than you mean to simply by walking as normal then you weren't doing your job right.
By not shaving this morning, changing my attire a bit, and altering my normal facial expression I can appear a different person.
These individuals were not only of a unique bloodline, but they were desperate. Dealing with those willing to do anything to maintain themselves, and their family are always dangerous. That's also perhaps the most tragic part of this. The family is suffering. Those capable have taken up the role of supporting their loved ones through more nefarious means. Everyone is affected by this and its ripples outwards into the village. While some will always be a part of the less desired, some are forced to turn to it in times of need. The Black Bazaar was as unwelcoming as the name implies. Eyes peer at you from every shadowed mass, thugs roam the streets, and all manner of things less savory. The Seikon had been rumored to be the new muscle in the area. With their gifts they were more than equipped to dish out punishment and never be seen doing it. Their appearances were a telltale giveaway, but also a tool used for intimidation. Seikon naturally generated an unusual form of chakra that was unique to their heritage and leaked from their forms like a sand from a sieve.
It didn't take me long to find a pair of the blurry bruisers. They were carrying a young man in between the two, some poor sap caught amidst all of this. I casually followed behind them, keeping to the same pace I had been at when spotting them. Tailing someone was a challenge, trailing those trained in the art of stealth was even harder. It became less about being able to remain undetected and more about when they made you and what you could do in the brief window of opportunity you had before that happened. Experience had me prepare for this, however, and the more that seemed to go on around them, the less they wouldn't notice someone who belonged in the seedy area. From a darkened alley emerged a pale-skinned person, running towards the group and bashing into one of them or at least that had been the intention. In a very seikon-like fashion, he phased through the tackle and the aggressor sacked the struggling fellow in the middle, both collapsing to the ground. As the thugs moved in to separate them, they watched as the ashen attacker enveloped the person, their shape morphing into a pile of goo. Soon there was nothing left but a writhing puddle, and before either could react it was sucked into the earth, a glowing seal on a steadily crumbling piece of paper was all that was left.
I contained my grin, but strode on by all the same, not giving it more than the obligatory glance. The two seemed baffled and were ripping through the clothes that had been on the stranger who attacked them. It only took me a few minutes until I got into the by-the-hour apartment I took the liberty of renting. As I turned the key to the door, I stepped into the small living space and looked at the terrified man who was sitting at the table near the less than modest kitchen. The clay clone grab and swap had worked perfectly, a little paper seal tucked away inside it guaranteed the safe removal of my friend here. Was he actually my friend? No, but he would soon be.
Sweeping away the dark cap I had concealing my hair, I shrugged off the jacket that hid the Sunagakure village headband tied around my arm. At the sight of the badge he seemed to let out a sigh of relief. From my coat pocket I retrieved a small box of dark chocolate covered butter cookies and set them on the table, "Have a few, they'll help calm your nerves some."<i></i> I offered a wide smile to help him relax, and sat down opposite him. While he didn't know me, he knew he was at least no worse off with a stranger than in the hands of the two thugs, "Tell me everything about the Kogu, and why they brought you down here."<i></i>
He could see it in my eyes the determination I had to bring this whole thing down. I already had them on enough petty stuff to report back, but I wanted to know what this person did. To really figure out how deep in the Kogu were and what his role was in all of this.
Word Count: 911
[MFT]