Before the fountain sat a man. From this man, came music.
A simple way to describe the outrageously noisy get-up of the resting nin; a thick yukata decorated in psychedelic colors ranging from bright yellows to hot pinks, outlined by thick bands of a deeper blue and somehow meshed together in a fashion that was cohesive rather than abrasive to the eye lay pooled around him, a thin mat placed on the ground to keep the dirt from the silken fabric. His head was down, the stiff bamboo conical hat on his head hanging forward loosely enough that it covered the majority of his face, his lower lip and chin just barely discernible. Sticking down from between his lips was a poorly made cigarette, the thin paper crumpled slightly under the weight of the tabacco in it. It wasn't lit yet, and seemed at any moment about to fall as each movement of his head jostled it to and fro, his focus consumed by the shamisen in his hands. Handcrafted and worn over the years, it still played beautifully beneath his fingers as he strummed the chords at a lazy, relaxed pace, the pick he used about as old as the instrument itself, the source of the atmospheric ambience around him, more pronounced and easily drowning out the general sounds of the plaza whenever one came closer to him. His feet were tucked comfortably beneath him, and he'd caught the attention of some passersby as he played. There was another conical hat before him, and in it some few of the audience had actually thrown some money as if thinking he was performing rather than relaxing.
It was almost serene, despite the loud clothes.
But then.. there were the signs.
Two sticks held up a banner before him, framing the image of tranquility that was the Jounin, sloppy letters damn near shouting the title written on it: Ting Pao Pow Pow Pals. To his left and right, bright yellow 'wet floor' signs, large and loud, had over them draped white canvas sheets with the words 'Hiring!' and 'Recruiting!' written on them. Behind where the man sat, two smaller signs that fit conveniently above the banner as one approached read, when seen together, 'Genin and Below!' while before the upturned hat was a small banner that read, 'New Team in the Making!'
What?
[MFT for the week of 12/11 - 12-17]
A simple way to describe the outrageously noisy get-up of the resting nin; a thick yukata decorated in psychedelic colors ranging from bright yellows to hot pinks, outlined by thick bands of a deeper blue and somehow meshed together in a fashion that was cohesive rather than abrasive to the eye lay pooled around him, a thin mat placed on the ground to keep the dirt from the silken fabric. His head was down, the stiff bamboo conical hat on his head hanging forward loosely enough that it covered the majority of his face, his lower lip and chin just barely discernible. Sticking down from between his lips was a poorly made cigarette, the thin paper crumpled slightly under the weight of the tabacco in it. It wasn't lit yet, and seemed at any moment about to fall as each movement of his head jostled it to and fro, his focus consumed by the shamisen in his hands. Handcrafted and worn over the years, it still played beautifully beneath his fingers as he strummed the chords at a lazy, relaxed pace, the pick he used about as old as the instrument itself, the source of the atmospheric ambience around him, more pronounced and easily drowning out the general sounds of the plaza whenever one came closer to him. His feet were tucked comfortably beneath him, and he'd caught the attention of some passersby as he played. There was another conical hat before him, and in it some few of the audience had actually thrown some money as if thinking he was performing rather than relaxing.
It was almost serene, despite the loud clothes.
But then.. there were the signs.
Two sticks held up a banner before him, framing the image of tranquility that was the Jounin, sloppy letters damn near shouting the title written on it: Ting Pao Pow Pow Pals. To his left and right, bright yellow 'wet floor' signs, large and loud, had over them draped white canvas sheets with the words 'Hiring!' and 'Recruiting!' written on them. Behind where the man sat, two smaller signs that fit conveniently above the banner as one approached read, when seen together, 'Genin and Below!' while before the upturned hat was a small banner that read, 'New Team in the Making!'
What?
[MFT for the week of 12/11 - 12-17]