sneaking and spying, the truth can be so terrifying [Solo Mission/Contract Search]

[Kazu]

Gulls cawed, waves crashed, and the salty brine of the air coated everything in a thin layer of crust. It was early morning, just as the sun was rising, and a slow wind crept through every street, alley, and passageway in the city — it smelled like autumn, itself. Brilliant red and yellow hues washed over the dark, sleeping city, ushering in a new day for everyone. Many were snuggled up in their beds, all warm and tight. Others had already started their day, either hard at work or busily preparing for events to come. Everyone in Sora had a duty, a purpose, a calling, or a reason for being. Truly, this was a paradise on earth.

Everyone except one, that is.

The dockhands had started to have some trouble as of late with denizens taking residence on their pier. They showed up out of nowhere one day, then refused to leave. They took up space, didn’t clean after themselves, and were rude to the people around them. Up until now, the dockhands had slowly managed to weed out some of the more problematic trespassers with petty charges — all that was left was one stubborn old man who seemed to do nothing but sit and listen. Technically, he had done nothing wrong; yet, he still needed to be gone. This man, in particular, was the target of two dockworkers who were determined to finally rid their pier of what they viewed to be an infestation. The pair trudged up to the sleeping old man, regarding his ragged dirty clothes, empty liquor bottles, and unwashed beard and hair, with a little more than a bit of disgust.

”C’mon, ya old geezer,” groaned one of the men, a touch of sympathy and compassion in his voice. "Ya can't stay 'ere any more, okay? Yer gonna have to leave.”

"An' don't make us do things the hard way, neither, ya hear?” The other man boomed, loudly and impatiently. Out of nowhere, the first man's hand came up behind his friend's head and gave it a proper thunking. "Ouch!” The second man cried out. "Whadid ya do that for?”

"Quiet you!” The first man snipped, obviously used to having dealt with his friend's brutish outbursts. "I told you not to be doin' that no more. Sora ain't the kinda place for that nonsense.” He turned back to the old man, who was slowly awakening from all the ruckus these two had caused. ”Sorry ‘bout him, he can be a lil rough around the edges. We still do still need ya to leave, though.” The old man was sitting up by now, regarding the two men who loomed over him with a regretful disdain, mixed with polite understanding.

“Yous twos is just doin’ yous jobs. I dun wanna cause yous twos no trouble.” The old bag of bones extended a thin, ragged, hand. His skin looked paper thin, and his musculature looked worn and forgotten. “How’s about yous helpin’ a poor ol’ man up, eh?” The first man smiled, genuinely, and instantly moved to help. The second man stayed behind, shooting his friend an aggravated look as he tapped his foot ever so slightly.

“Of course, ol’ timer. Here, just gimme your hand…” Big mistake, my friend.

Their hands made contact. The first man seemed to space out for a moment, as if he’d forgotten what he was doing, then let go. Uneasy terror began to manifest in his eyes. Seconds more, and the terror was replaced by a stupid grin — the first man continued where he left off, pulling the old man up to his feet. When he spoke, it was with a flat tone and no sense of worry or awareness of the weirdness of his actions. “You know what, ol’ man? I’mma do ya one better.” Reaching into his pocket, still with that thousand yard stare, he produced a small key: it locked and unlocked the main building of the dockyards. “You're a good man, yanno? Be sure to buy yourself somethin’ nice, ya hear?”

With that, he waved a goodbye to the old man as he and his friend walked away. The second man looked bothered by something, speaking quietly only after they’d moved away from the old man. “Hey, what was that you gave him before you left?”

“Oh, just some coins. Thought he could use a good meal.”

The man wasn’t lying, he really believed that. Unfortunately for him, this hadn’t been any old man — disguised, by means of the Transformation technique, Yatamaru was hiding in plain sight among the rabble of Sora. He’d spent a few days here now, waiting for things to settle down before he struck. In that time, he’d learned many things; though, not quite as much as he’d have liked. He’d been hoping that the dockhand might have known something good, and was why he’d used the Mental Infiltration technique on him. No such luck, though. Still, he managed to trick the man into surrendering his key the Shipyard with some low-level Genjutsu — maybe there’d be something worth while there?

Dusting himself off, the ANBU disguised as an old, homeless, man had much work to do. He’d come for information on The Sovereign, and would also like to be able to sabotage some of their war materials if he could. If I were plotting to attack and destroy my political neighbors, where would I hide the information for my most powerful personal army? For some reason, his mental brainstorming wasn’t exactly producing any useful leads. Oh well, I'm sure some information will pop up eventually.

The disguised man took a moment to appreciate this morning. To feel the breeze. To taste and smell the salt. He may not have a body, but he still appreciated the little things. There won’t be much time to enjoy these sorts of things once the fighting really starts. Yatamaru tried to push such thoughts out of his mind. He was here to prevent conflict, not ruminate over its inevitability. He would need to press on.

If only he could just figure out where it was he should go from here.

OOC Notes:
Using Discovey of Contract of Your Choice, bought [here], to find the Tsukumogami Contract.

 

[Miroku Akkuma]

Dekobō had found himself enjoying the passed few weeks scaring members of a vessel he had stowed away on. With his mischief made & half the crew convinced the ship was cursed he decided to inhabit the captains personal pocket compass. The man took the item with him every where keeping it beside him when he slept. It'd been easy for the spirit to possess the item, when the captain awoke the next morning he had a stow away on his person. Walking towards the shipyard & into town the captain passed a ragged looking old man. Two dockworkers seemed to be moving him on his way. It was then he noticed a brief yet odd exchange between the old man & one of the guards. After taking the urchins hand a brief look of terror had washed over the man before he regained his previous outward persona.

It was so brief most would not have noticed it but the mischievous spirit had. Deciding it wanted to see what was going on it dropped its vessel from the captains side onto the ground. Now idle Dekobō watched much to his surprise he saw the same dockworker hand something over to the man before heading over something he couldn't distinguish from this distance. Much to his delight though the old individual proceeded to walk in his direction. Stopping mere inches from his vessel soaking in the scenery around him as if enjoying a success. Using this moment the spirit moved himself from the vessel to the bandages wrapping one of the figures legs. Now he'd attached himself to the article of clothing he'd be able to follow this individual for a moment longer further discerning what he was doing.

Using his energy to shift the gravel beneath the pocket watch to draw the old man's attention. Should he choose to investigate the item on the ground before him a voice would erupt from behind him. "Stop that thief he's just pick pocketed that man!" the outcry would alert the dock workers & the captain along with any others nearby. Although the individual responsible for the cry would be no where discernible to the old man. For it had simply been an auditory trick, the gazes of those around rested upon the 'old urchin' the captains hands would fly to his side when he saw the item in the mans hand. Once he'd confirmed his compass was gone he burst out in rage "You mangy bilge rat pinchin from me aye? I'll have yer head for that!" the man would say reaching to his side & drawing a flintlock pistol from his side & taking aim at the disguised shinobi. Dekobō was delighted how quickly things had exploded out of control. This was such a delightful trick! He wondered what the old man would do. Would he try to talk his way out of this or reveal some other hidden talent to escape the escalating scenario.

 

[Kazu]

As beautiful and idyllic as this morning was, Yatamaru didn't have all day. It was time to be moving on.

As he turned to leave, he felt an odd shift in the gravel beneath him. It was like an unseen hand had just shifted the stones near his feet around, but that was impossible — he looked to find the culprit, spying only a sailor's compass. It wasn't exactly out of place, seeing as how these docks were crawling with sailors. It could've been anyone's. The undercover agent bent down to pick up and examine the piece; maybe it had a return address? He turned the compass over in his hand, studying the fine detailing, when a voice yelled out seemingly from right behind him.

"Wha'? Pickpocket?" Yatamaru turned around, trying to see if maybe he could spot the filthy pilferer in the act. Maybe stopping the thief would grant him favor among the people around here? But when he saw the captain's angry gaze, as well as the silent stares of dockhands all around them, he quickly realized what must have happened. These bastards! They set me up! He'd heard of this before: a group of criminals will pick a target, plant some fake evidence, and incriminate them with false charges of theft or assault. Usually, it's just an excuse to beat someone up or to take their stuff so that "they can see what it's like." Unfortunately for them, Yatamaru wasn't a pushover — he could handle any fight they through at him.

"'Ey, I didn' do nuffin'! I jus found it 'ere on tha ground!" While he may have been able to fight his way out, that's not what this mission called for. There were only two rules for this mission: don't let them know you're a shinobi, and don't draw attention to yourself. Through no fault of his own, his second rule was already being broken. He had to do something about this, and fast.

"'Ere, man! Yous can hav eet! I ain't got no need fer some sea-farin' e-quip-ment." He enunciated each syllable in that last word, doing everything in his power to sound downtrodden, pathetic, and sympathetic. However, he was really just stalling. He was working on a backup plan, but he needed more time. The show must go on! "We dun really need ta hav such a dan-ge-rous weapon 'round 'ere! We're all frens, ya? How's bout I just set er down, and be on ma way?"

The diplomatic approach was all fine and dandy, but Yatamaru was nothing if not one for a contingency plan. The captain's gun? Yeah, Yatamaru already went to work on that one: while his mouth was moving, his fingers were too. Very thin, imperceptibly so, his chakra threads were naked to the invisible eye. Yatamaru could manipulate them in many different ways, almost considering them an extension of himself. And what better way to use that extension than to jam the captain's gun, turn on the safety, and break off the flint that ignited the gun in the first place? Yeah, good luck shooting me with that. He was unconcerned about the damage it could cause him, being as how his fleshy appearance was mostly for show. He was far more preoccupied with the gathering crowds, and authorities, that would surely follow an urban gunshot. He couldn't have that, could he?

The captain's wasn't the only gun disarmed. The dockhands, if they carried any weapons, had been surrepitiously deprived of their toys. The undercover ANBU figured that if they didn't back down, they'd be then forced to engage him hand-to-hand. And when they do, I'll make my escape. He had a plan for each eventuality, crafting each scenario to suit his needs. That's just the kind of man, or machine, that Yatamaru was.

 

[Miroku Akkuma]

Dekobō waited with delightful anticipation as this shinobi fell for his wonderful trick! not just this trickster individual but those around him as well. All so eager to rush in against this supposed criminal, all without even giving him the time to explain himself. While the 'old man' tried to explain it was simply a misunderstanding & he'd be more then happy to hand over the compass the guards marched towards him. The gruff individual "Oi listen ere you old geezer what'd ya go do that for?" the gruffer of the two dockworkers would say with a poorly hidden joy. Now they'd have to take him down to the lock up. The mischievous spirit watched with joy as this shinobi began performing yet another trick this time disabling the weapons of those who had turned there attention to him.

Those two dockworkers had closed the distance between the old man & the captain had lined him up in his sights. "Mangy scoundrel think I'll let you get off easy aye? All cause you've been made for the rat you are?" after being out at sea for over six weeks this was not an affront to the captains honor he could not ignore. With those words he pulled the muskets trigger cursing as nothing happened. Drawing his blade the captain would advance upon the old man. "Avast ye filthy land lover!" as he swung out at the old man with his blade. The two dockworkers looked at each other with increasing concern. Neither of them wanted to do the paper work explaining why there was a dead body on their dock. With a sigh they rushed forward "Aye what's dis then? We got it im no need tur be slashin about!" while the level headed dockworker tried to calm the captain his heavy handed friend attempted to grab the old man.

How delightful it would be what would the individual do to get out of this? Before long all this yelling would draw the attention of more people if this disguised individual had any intentions of getting out without blowing his cover he would have to act soon. Already some of those who had been on their way to go about their business had stopped. Curiosity was after all only natural but how long would it be before someone else came along who could see through his disguise. It was at this moment the captain made it past the dockworker who had been eagerly trying to stop him by giving him a brief introduction to the butt of his hilt. With the dockworker stumbling back he advanced, now captain & dockworker eagerly worked to capture him while the saner of the two nursed his head. 'Haha all with a compass! These humans are so easy to trick!' he thought to himself with joy.

Yatamaru would have to act now if he didn't want to wind up being skewed by the captains blade. Dekobō waited patiently judging this shinobi's methods how effectively he wielded deception. It seemed to come naturally to him. How easily would he manage to evade the situation quickly evolving around him? Would he be able to maintain his deception as Dekobō's game went on? Or would he succumb to the game that the trickster spirit intended to play with him. The only problem with playing games with spirits such as Dekobō is they rarely played fair. For the shinobi a game had already begun although whether he was aware of it or not would yet to be seen. Laying in wait he intended to wait for the perfect moment to play another trick on this individual before him.

 

[Kazu]

“Mangy? Now that there jus ain’t no fair! I done taken a bath…” he paused in his retort, realizing too little too late that he didn’t actually know how to finish that sentence. “Fine! Ya caught me! Maybe I is a lil mangy! Still no reason ter-be swingin’ yer swords like tha’!”

Personal hygenie aside, Yatamaru could almost feel the sands of time slipping between his fingers. The men came swinging, the burlier of the two dockhands trying his best to subdue the vagrant old man. He lunged forward, and Yatamaru stepped back; he lunged again, and Yatamaru dodged to the side. The captain joined in, thrusting his blade with what seemed like the intent to draw blood, but his efforts ended in the same result. To any onlookers, as well as the dockhand and captain, the old man’s narrow evasions were nothing short of lucky breaks — chalk it up to the unpredictable nature of a drunk. If only they knew.

Yatamaru had many uses for his chakra strings in combat, besides using them to command his legions of dolls: disarming opponent’s weapons was only the tip of the metaphorical iceberg. Manipulating movements, just enough to cause a near miss, was another one of the many tricks he kept up his sleeves, although he knew this tactic couldn’t last long. Eventually, the men would notice that their limbs weren’t moving exactly the way they wanted. They’d wise up, realize what exactly they were fighting, and alert the proper authorities to the presence of a foreign shinobi. It won’t be long now until someone else does something about this little scuffle. Perhaps it’s time for me to use that little trick. It was worth a shot.

Backing away rapidly, while throwing his hands up in the air, the old man simply yelled, “Parlay! I call fer parlay!”

He didn’t move, hoping to Suna that this pirate captain knew The Code. ‘Parlay must be given to any who request it. No harm may come to the caller until the business has concluded, and all transactions are absolute.’ Or, at least, that was the version Yatamaru knew of. It was a long shot, for sure, but he had an idea.

“I been ‘round pirates b’for, an’ I know yous is men o’ your word! I also know yous is men of treasure.” The old man reached into his shirt, fishing about for something unseen to the others. “An’ you two! I knows how little yous is paid fer honest, hard werk. Aye wus savin’ dees fer somefin special — me life and safe retreat seems like a good trade, donnit?” When his hand emerged, it was clutching onto three gold dabloons, sparkling with a brilliant golden sheen in the orange morning light. Each one was easily worth a small fortune, enough to buy a man exotic goods or tasty brews for days to come. “What does yous fellas say? Lemme walk outta here safely, and da’ dabloons is yours.”

Yatamaru had never owned a gold coin in his life. What he was holding were three bottle caps, disguised by a simple Genjutsu to mask his deceit.

It was a convincing illusion, too. Yatamaru wasn’t too skilled in large-scale Genjutsu, and using them in battle required a lot of effort on his part to do well. But tricks like this? This was his bread and butter. Tools of the trade, as it were. He knew the risks of this tactic: if any of these men were formally trained to resist, detect, or otherwise dispel such illusions, he would be found out for sure. Perhaps he could try to convince them he was just a refugee from Mist, but even the tiniest amount of digging would reveal that tale for the lie it was. It all boiled down to one thing: would they believe his bluff? All he could do was wait, hoping that karma counted for something.

If they fall for it…

Spoiler

Holy Mother of Suna, that actually worked!

It took every once of his willpower to keep from exposing himself with a victorious smile, but somehow he managed. Handing over the gold coins, the mangy old man nodded his thanks and calmly stumbled off. Never once did he break the illusion of being just another drunk old man, and that’s exactly how he intended to keep it. It wasn’t until he was out of eyesight that the “dabloons” returned to their original form; but by then, the old man was long gone. They might put out a search warrant for the old man, suspecting him of being an enemy of the state, but it was a moot point.

The old man no longer existed. Yatamaru had promptly turned down a deserted side alley after escaping the brawl, changing his form to confound his enemies.

A middle aged gentleman with a thick mustache, tailored suit, and a wooden walking cane roamed the streets of Sora, browsing the various streets and shops for interesting trinkets. He had a gentle smile on his face, a polite demeanor, and seemed to mind his own business. Not a soul would consider him a threat. Maybe this way, I can continue my search uninterrupted…

If they don’t…

Spoiler

There was only one plan now: run.

Yatamaru knew he was faster than these salty sea dogs, but they sure didn’t. Summoning all of his skills as an actor, Yatamaru scrunched the wrinkled old face that didn’t belong to him into a look of pure terror. With one hand he pointed at something behind the three men, just over their heads. “What in tarnation is that thing?! It’s the end times! We’s is all doomed! KAMI HAVE MERCY!!!”

Maybe, if he was lucky, they’d actually believe him and turn to look — by the time they turned back, he’d have already started running. Alternatively, if they were smarter than your average group of brain dead school children, a simple shrug and a “worth a try” was all he had to offer them before bolting. Should they pursue, they’d all find themselves tripping and falling flat on their face, in one way or another, due to an unseen force. Almost like they were tripped, or their feet had gotten caught on a wire. Whatever had caused the delay, it certainly gave the escaping vagrant enough time to make his getaway; the three men could search for him all they wanted, but it was a moot point.

The old man no longer existed. Yatamaru had promptly turned down a deserted side alley after escaping the brawl, changing his form to confound his enemies.

A middle aged gentleman with a thick mustache, tailored suit, and a wooden walking cane roamed the streets of Sora, browsing the various streets and shops for interesting trinkets. He had a gentle smile on his face, a polite demeanor, and seemed to mind his own business. Not a soul would consider him a threat. Maybe this way, I can continue my search uninterrupted…

 

[Miroku Akkuma]

The attackers grunted with annoyance as their attacks kept missing the old drunk. All except the experienced pirate who had traveled the world. Who when he heard the word Parlay would pause with his sword still held aloft before him. Not only was this mangy old rat a thief but he was one literate in the ways of the code. Or perhaps how he assumed it would be. But Nodaka considered them more guidelines then anything. He would not barter with someone that had stolen his goods. That was when this man who looked like nothing more then a beggar withdrew some doubloons. This only increased the pirates raising suspicions about the individual. Why'd he be so willing to part with those coins? He knew men who'd die before part with just one doubloon let alone three. That was when he looked at the man with a newfound clarity & the items he held in his hand.

Both of the dockworkers hesitated talking among themselves about taking the gold coins. For both of them it was a bounty that was hard to resist that was until Nadako the captain spoke. "Ye think I'l be fooled so easily?" his words made the dockworkers heads snap back to the captain. "There be no gold only rubbish you ol fool. I'll kill you for this trickery!" he'd say slashing out at the old man. With those words the old man screamed out in what appeared to be terror pointing behind them. While the dockworkers & other onlookers turned to see what the source of his fear was the captain did not. With a shrug & a quick comment about it being worth a shot the old fool took of with surprising speed. Nadako ran in pursuit of the rat when his feet quite some hidden wire & he fell flat on his face. In the brief time it'd taken him to push himself up & round the corner the old man was gone.

With a curse the captain sheathed his blade & headed to the tavern eager to drink away his new frustrations. Dekobō meanwhile silently watched with delight as the disguised shinobi walked through the streets inspecting various stores & items. "It thinks it's so clever hiding in plain sight...but what is it?" the voice would seem like a whisper coming from around him. The attendant looked up "I'm sorry did you say something?" she would ask him with an apologetic look after dealing with another customer. "A trickster that much we know but what kind..." again the voice would come from around him or no was it from below him? It would be hard to pinpoint but one thing would seem apparent to the shinobi. He'd caught the attention of someone or something else. But what & where was it?

Looking unnerved the attendant would look around anxiously "I don't know who you are Mister but I think you should leave..." she would say clearly unnerved by this unforeseen voice. Her gaze kept drifting to the approaching guards on their routine. Clearly she wanted to call them over but what would she say she'd heard a voice? No all she could do was ask this man whatever he was to leave her stall. "..everything with time dear I think he's looking for something." Dekobō would say chuckling as he watched the color drain from her face. Yata would no doubt be sure the source of the voice was coming from below him. But surely no one could be talking to him from down there or below the ground could they? What would he do with the possibility that there was something watching him all this time? How would he feel knowing that whatever it was knew he wasn't what he appeared to be.

 

[Kazu]

The middle aged gentleman that Yatamaru was disguised as walked with a calm demure. Free from concern, his confidence in this plan rock solid, he casually strolled the marketplace, searching and listening for the valuable information he'd come here for. And yet, not a single piece of rumor, gossip, or so much as a whisper of The Sovereign graced the disguised shinobi's ears. Somehow, that was more telling than anything.

He was currently idling near one of the many shops. There was no one else around — besides him and the store attendant — to disturb the twisting and confused thoughts that currently wracked his brain. For a city at war, you'd think there'd be more talk about their troops. Rumors were plentiful, back at home, of the terrifying might of The Sovereign. So why is absolutely no one talking about them? These questions had no answers, yet, but they implied that there was more to this story than meets the eye. His mind was furiously at work, drowning out everything else around him. His inner voice was getting louder, and louder still. Wait, that's not my voice...

Yatamaru snapped back to reality. Who just said that? He turned around, confusedly trying to identify where those words had come from, until he saw the attendant looking at him with an expression that mirrored his own sentiments. She heard it too? When she asked if he had said anything, the old man tried to give her a reassuring shrug, indicating that he hadn't heard anything.

Then it spoke again. A trickster? Hiding in plain sight? If Yatamaru had a heart, it would be racing right now.

"Sorry to have bothered you, ma'am," he said politely, as he left the shop without another word. Something was amiss. He turned down another alleyway, away from prying eyes, and disappeared before anyone could notice. The next moment, his silvery white, youthful, locks were blowing gently in the breeze that could only be reached from the rooftops of tall buildings. He had distanced himself from anyone else who might overhear the exchange that was about to take place.

"A trickster hiding in plain sight, eh? Are you sure you weren't referring to yourself?" It felt weird talking to nothing. But it really wasn't nothing, was it? Yatamaru didn't know how, or when, but at some point he'd picked up a stowaway. "You must be quite powerful, and skilled, to have avoided my detection for so long. Just how long have you been following me, exactly?" Yatamaru wondered if the misfortunes he'd suffered earlier were truly accidental. Was he being tested, earlier?

Yatamaru wasn't one to speak just for the sake of it. He was probing, goading, and doing tests of his own. Curt quips and honeyed praises did much to draw out the egos of the enemy; once it did, Yatamaru could exploit the emotional failings of his foes. But I need him to come out, first. Show yourself — sneaking and spying is my schtick, damn it! Yatamaru needed his unseen passenger to reveal himself, and to do that he needed to give it an incentive. Or, perhaps I just need to push him the right way? A devilish idea began to form in his mind.

"I get it, you must adore me. A fan, no doubt? You've seen my work before, haven't you? Have you come to pay me tribute? Offer your loyalty? Swear your allegiance? Oh, I know, you must want my autograph! I mean, of course I'd be willing to do a favor for such a devoted follower..."

Pride was a big deal in this world of shinobi. Even among those in this world who were not quite human, pride could be a particularly potent poison that pollutes the mind and perplexes the senses. If Yatamaru had damaged his unseen opponent's pride, the Sunan operative would bet almost anything that he would be able to wrench out a response. Now he just had to sit back, relax, and observe as his psychological warfare took its toll.

 

[Miroku Akkuma]

Dekobō found much joy in the surprise of his target. It seemed the individual had been brought back from the midst of deep thought by his words. His joy would be briefly ended as the individual decided to lave the store with a quick apology. The trickster spirit couldn't help but wonder if the being was starting to feel the panic after such a confusing situation. After all humans so easily feared that which they did not understand. Yet again his 'ride' had changed his appearance, not knowing whether this was his true one or another trick. They were a top a rooftop & Dekobō suspected the individual was about to try & engage the being that was so obviously following him.

It's words made a mischievous laugh erupt from the spirit. Seeming to echo around them with an unearthly horror. The beings next words brought an end to the chuckling it seemed this thing was nervous. "You seem worried...how long do you think I've been following you?" Dekobō asked the individual with a laugh. Perhaps he could learn more about his target while the being tried to gleam what information it could from him. It's next words made him chuckle yet again. "Me? Here I was thinking all your antics were an effort to draw me out..." he would say restraining from releasing another chuckle. He'd enjoy his games a moment longer with his individual.

"So who're you hiding from?" the words were said in a matter of fact tone. After all it had been with him for quite sometime. While it was obvious the shinobi had been eager to keep his presence hidden. He was up to something he just didn't know what. But Dekobō knew the people in this city were on edge. He'd found it far to easy to play his trickery upon them with little intervention. Now there was this shinobi moving about disguised as a normal individual. No something was not right about this situation at all. Dekobō was a master of tricks & enjoyed playing these games. It was these moments the spirit lived for the thrill of gauging an individual. Slowly those bandages would begin to wrap themselves around the individuals legs. Tightening in pressure as they attempted to restrain the beings legs. Finally the unseen stowaways location would be given away to the puppet. This was however all apart of the game, he was looking forward to playing with the being.

[Apologies on the Wait]

 

[Aurora]

Hello Yatamaru :]
Just wanted to let you know I'll continue where Akkuma left. I'll do my best to live up to the story. If there is anything I should be knowing about the story or details you formerly discussed with Akkuma, can you let me know? Thanks!

 

[Kazu]

The thrill of skillful interrogation is hard to explain. It's halfway between being a clairvoyant and a craftsman; gently massaging the future into the truths that he desired, Yatamaru was in his natural environment. This is what he did for a living.

Some careful prodding here, a little gentle poking there, was all that was needed. The truths of the situation seemingly presented themselves of their own accord. Yatamaru had asked how long the straggler had been following him, and he got a mirror-question in response. Yatamaru had tried to provoke a false narrative of fanboy-ish-ness, and the situation had been flipped right back at him. They were doing a dance, this voice and he, that seemed to only have two steps: forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards.

He was dealing with someone just as tricksy as he was. How novel!

"Oh, me?" Yatamaru played off his opponent's move, in this game of mental chess, as nonchalantly as an ANBU sliding a kunai into his target's back. "I'm mostly hiding from my own reflection. I'm not very pretty, you see, and so I prefer to not look like myself. Helps keep my sense of self-worth in tact, if you follow me."

Yatamaru was leading this conversation in circles. He was biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment. The slip up. The eventual crack. In all his years serving as a covert operative, he'd never once encountered someone who didn't make a wrong move, sooner or later. It just seemed that this time, it would be later rather than sooner.

"But what about you, my friend?" Disarm. Flatter. Lull into a false sense of security. "You seem even more shy than me. Us ugly freaks gotta stick together, am I right?"

And there it was! As Yatamaru tried to move his legs (he hadn't felt the pressure, on account of him not having any nerve endings down there and all), he felt the resistance of intent. Someone, or something, was trying to bind him in place. This was the mistake he was waiting for.

“Perhaps we’re already closer than I think?” Curled up corners of his lips. Satisfaction. Checkmate. “Or maybe you’re just out of your element?”

The next move would be unseen. Felt, certainly. Thin wiring, razor thin, seemed to start wrapping all around the wrappings on his legs. Layer on layer. Trap the trapper. Yatamaru never ceased to be amazed by how many of his foes seemed not to expect his hidden chakra strings. A nifty jutsu of his (Sacred Threads of Fate), capable of moving even the most incapacitated of his limbs, due purely to the fact that they weren’t bound by the same meat and blood as “normal people,” and could be manipulated by chakra strings alone. Though his movement wasn’t the real issue here, it certainly was someone’s issue.

His stowaway was, hopefully, trapped between Yatamaru’s legs and his binding strings. A rock and a hard place. Tangled up, there would be little hope for escape.

“This has been fun, I will admit. But my curiosity is starting to win over my patience. To the victor go the spoils, right? For my spoils, I’d like some answers. And, if you’re cooperative, maybe we’ll find this road of questioning goes two-ways?”

He let the option for this to go smoothly hang in the air. Yatamaru wasn't malicious (usually), and he didn't really have any more business with this disembodied voice than it had with him. It was very possible for them to both get something out of this strange encounter.

"First, how about your name? Talking to myself isn't exactly out of the ordinary, but I'd prefer if we could keep those incidents down to only a few times a week. I'm way past my quota already, man."

 

[Aurora]

Thin wiring would envelop the inhabited bandages and restrain it in place, the spirit somewhat blinking at the whole ordeal. An interesting move, the shinobi betraying a certain sense for subtlety and skill in trapping its opponent, but all together telling Dekobō the man was not used to deal with spirits either. Amused by the attempt, it would allow the shinobi this false sense of victory as the spirit allowed it to be 'trapped' as it were. It picked up on the words shared, the questions asked. Dekobō would play the game along. For now.[lb2] “This has been fun, I will admit. But my curiosity is starting to win over my patience. To the victor go the spoils, right? For my spoils, I’d like some answers. And, if you’re cooperative, maybe we’ll find this road of questioning goes two-ways?”[lb] "Aw man... How could I've been so careless?!", the voice ringed out in surprise. "I'll give it to you, you are one crafty ol' coot. So, since you got me in a bind - heh - I guess you're entitled your questions. I'm not promising any correct answers though. I have a rep to keep up, you know."[lb] "First, how about your name? Talking to myself isn't exactly out of the ordinary, but I'd prefer if we could keep those incidents down to only a few times a week. I'm way past my quota already, man."[lb] "Heh... Talking to yourself. I found that rather funny, actually, but okay. Name. Call me Dekobō. There, fair and square, no wrapping you around my fingers, right?"[lb2] Wrapping around... The spirit was on a roll here, even if it was possibly the only one who might think so. As it casually answered the shinobi's questions, it'd slip from the bandages into the thin wire to possess it, leaving the idea of being caught hanging by doing nothing in particular with the wires. Just... being there, and talking to this fellow. Maintaining the thought the spirit was caught.[lb2] "So.. what's yours? Dubloon-flaunting self-talking reflection-fearing ol' coot sounds a bit of a long-winded name to call you by. Don't you got anything shorter?", it would ask, voice lingering like a whisper in the wind. It's presence moving up the wires, against the flow of chakra like a salmon swimming up the stream. Not the easiest thing it had done in its timeless life but refreshingly new. It already had an idea of what it wanted to do, reaching to that end point simply proved to be a tad harder than it had anticipated. And there was this strange sensation that this dude was made of ... an item himself? A puppet? Dekobō saw options in that new information, the question only remaining to what extend it was possible considering the chakra flow it was currently experiencing. If this fellow was truly made of puppet material, surely it had to be soaked in chakra. Probably too much for the spirit to decently deal with it and pull a prank in this witty game of chess.[lb2] "So what else do you want to know? My age? My favourite colour? The average air speed velocity of a laden swallow?"[lb2] Sitting comfy in the thin wires, it'd eye the fellow's shirt and smirk to itself momentarily before slipping unseen into the textile. Much better. Roomy and no chakra opposition. Pretty good quality at that, rather snuggly too. The spirit would inhabit the shirt leisurely, no longer caring if the shinobi was aware of the idea his leg was wrapped in simple bandage and wire like a fool. Ready for the next joke.​

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[Kazu]

Hmm...

Something seemed off about this response. Yatamaru had expected some sort of disappointment, anger, or perhaps even resentment from his ephemeral conversational partner for having been caught in the middle of their game. Instead, all he got were more clever quips. Whoever this being was, it made Yatamaru slightly uncomfortable to know he was dealing with someone so similar to himself, almost down to the same mental tactics. Seems we’ll just have to see who plays this game better…

“Hmm, well said!” Yatamaru knew that no matter what this disembodied voice said, there’s no way he could trust it completely. He’d have to consider whether what it said was truthful or not. “But, of course, I’ve also got a reputation to uphold, so if I notice any lies I’ll be sure to wring you out for it.”

The first question was given, and answered. Dekobō, huh? He’s even got an appreciation for jokes, too. I can dig that. Yatamaru would even let out a quiet chuckle, indicative of his appreciation of Dekobō’s appreciation. Still, there was no telling whether what he’d said so far was truthful or not — for the time being, Yatamaru would trust his captive was telling the truth until proven otherwise.

Oblivious, for now, of the daring escape currently underway, Yatamaru considered the question that had been lobbed back into his court.

“You don’t like that? I think that has a nice ring to it, actually. But, if you insist, you can call me Yatamaru.”

As he spoke, a chill crept up from his fingertips to his spine. He’d barely noticed it, since he was paying close attention to the words he chose to use, but the sensation had definitely been there. Something foreign, something separate, had just brushed past him. Curious. He made a mental note to watch for that — his captive could be up to something.

“Those are some great suggestions, and I’m sure we’ll circle back to those in a moment, but first I want to know how you followed me so easily. Not just anyone can do that, which means there’s a trick to your deceptions. What sort of techniques are you using? Are you with The Sovereign?”

His last question had a tinge of urgency in it. It had occurred to him that this could be an advance scout, come to track down his movements and report back to the group that there was an intruder in the walls of Soon’s Haven. If that was so, he didn’t have a lot of time to be asking questions, and even less time to get the hell out of dodge.

If his captive was with The Sovereign, though, there’s no way he’d tell Yatamaru. He might have just let them all know he was onto them. Is this guy just stalling for time until his friends arrive? Yatamaru hoped not.

 

[Aurora]

The fish didn't bite to the question of the spirit? Too bad. Then again, good fun. Dekobō had expected more casual questions but was pelted with quite serious ones instead. The spirit halted in time for a moment, like it was blinking at the whole thing in surprise and almost forgot what it was about to do while it thought about the answers it best could give. The thing was that the spirit's perceptions on the matter were completely different than what Yatamaru had come up with. Difficult to follow? Puh-lease. Deceptions? Of course! Techniques? Uhm...? And he probably meant the dubloons when he was talking Sovereigns, right?[lb2] "Alright, uhm, Yatamaru, was it? So I'm not sure about all these serious questions you're throwing my way. It's confusing me.", the spirit spoke, darting around the questions asked. "Of course I'm using deceptions and tricks, but a good prestidigity- predisti- ... trickster doesn't reveal them so easily, right? Besides, it's not like we're even alike you and I."[lb2] Dekobō could feel the next question coming. What do you mean? One step ahead of Yatamaru still, and his verbal diversion bringing them towards the original plan the spirit had in mind, Yatamaru's shirt would seemingly rip open at the bottom to reveal a single eye looking at him in mirth before the sound of a second rip could be heard at the top of the shirt to reveal a grinning mouth. "Boo!", Dekobō would say happily before a velvety tongue rolled out to lick the shinobi's face. Even though it wasn't wet at all, the lingering sensation of a wet cheek would remain until rubbed off - a minor genjutsu easily spotted if the shinobi paid attention in the moment. Whatever the shinobi's reaction would be now - running in panic, powerless bafflement or taking off his shirt in a hurry - as long as it wouldn't involve any direct harm to the spirit, Dekobō would be laughing his non-existing ass off at the whole prank.[lb2] "Oh man... Oh man... That was great! That look on your face...", the shirt-mouth would continue to move as the spirit spoke. "Revelation! I'm what they'd call a Tsukumogami. I possess items and pull pranks. Cool, right?"[lb2] Dekobō would chuckle as the joke died out and smiled cheekily. It was the first time it revealed its true nature but it prided itself in a job well done. The eye and mouth would disappear again now that the moment supreme had come to pass, the good-hearted spirit really not meaning to hurt any feelings or so. As it would speak again to finally grant the much deserved answers, its voice would once more linger in the wind that circled around the shinobi.[lb2] "Sorry. I couldn't resist the occasion. So yeah, I possess items. That's how I could follow you and trick you. I hope you're not too mad about that joke I pulled on you... Oh! And truthfully, I have no clue what those Sovereigns are you're talking about. Are they a collective of kings or something?"[lb2]</JUSTIFY> ​

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MEANWHILE...[lb]
As the spirit was pulling a prank on the shinobi trying to solve the puzzle, a handful of shadows darted through the streets and made their way towards the roof where the two pranksters were keeping each other company. The dubloons the ol' coot had shown had not only been caught by the feeble minds of the sailors he had dealt with but had also attracted the attention of a couple of orphans. Orphans who served as the eyes and ears of a notorious thief gang in the area. As the shinobi was forced to fight off the sailors, one of the kids had ran full speed towards one of his 'big brother' to tell him all about the shiny coins, who in turn told it to a few of his own friends, who in turn told it to the leader of the gang. By the time the ol' coot was escaping, half the gang had been filled in on the info and plans were being made so the thieves gang could procure the riches for themselves...[lb2]
Unfortunately for them, ol' coot didn't seem to be that easy a target. The slippery man moving much like a shadow himself before he vanished up the roof. The five men tasked to retrieve the dubloons halted for a moment, understanding quickly that the old man was not just anyone. It could be a thief like them, nimble and agile, or one of them 'ninja' they had heard about before - men wearing black pyjamas and sneaking around in the night or another fancy rumour like that. Either way, their eyes were set on the gold and the idea of underestimating the target was not in order. Navigating the debris, climbing outside stairs and parcouring their way up the walls and onto the roof, the five of them would land on the roof by the time Dekobō had finished pulling his prank and asked its question about the Sovereigns. They'd slink away into the shadows, signing each other for a strategy as they watched out for the ideal opportunity to strike the occupied duo...
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[Kazu]

It was the uncertainty in Dekobō’s voice that first tipped Yatamaru off to the idea that, somehow, things had possibly gotten a little mixed up somewhere along the way. While Yatamaru had been in full-fledged mission-mode, it seemed his deceptive companion had no such anxious thoughts on his mind.

”Wait, not alike? What do y-“ So close. Dekobō, however, seemed to be one step ahead of Yatamaru.

His shirt suddenly came to life. And it…licked him?! Never in a million years had Yatamaru expected this — the resulting shock and confusion caused him to stare in disbelief for half a second, suddenly come back to his senses long enough to pull his arms up rapidly in surprise, then curse himself when he realized the swift jerking of his arms had pulled his still-bound legs right from underneath him. The pair came crashing, backwards, to the ground, though Yatamaru took the brunt of the fall (which hardly mattered, since he can’t feel anything, anyways).

Some might have been terrified by such a development. Others would have been spurred into combat, seeing something so unnatural and foreign. Yatamaru wasn’t others, though.

”Hehe…haahaahaa…BAAHAAHAAHAAHAA!” Laughter erupted out of him like a volcano spewing lava, unable to contain itself for even a second longer. Yatamaru rolled from side-to-side on his back, trying desperately to contain himself, but failing spectacularly. When he tried to wipe off the spit from his earlier licking, only to realize the illusory nature of this final trick (which, had he not been so distracted, he would’ve realized sooner), it only served to deepen his amusement. ”Oh man, you got me so good! I wish I could’ve seen my own face just now!”

From thinking he was about to be jumped by the Daimyo’s personal task force, to realizing that he’d simply been targeted for a series of hilarious pranks, was all too relieving. That had been the most cathartic laugh he’d had in a long while. Still lying sprawled out on his back, Yatamaru lifted his head up to look down upon his shirt, the current housing place of Dekobō the Tsukumogami spirit.

”I owe you an apology for being so suspicious of you. I totally thought you were a spy, or secret agent, sent to capture or fight me. Had I known you just wanted to play, I’d have done more to make the game interesting!” An ear to ear smile full of mirth and humor, which (somehow) seemed like a rarity on Yatamaru’s face, was all the reassurance a tricksy spirit could ask for.

Slowly getting up, Yatamaru reflected back on the weird events that had transpired since he’d gotten here. The dots were starting to connect.

”That was you, back at the docks, wasn’t it? You’re a cheeky little troublemaker, you know that?” His still smiling face was indicative of the complimentary nature of his comment. Now that things were beginning to make sense for Yatamaru, he figured he should explain himself to Dekobō. ”I’m actually something of a troublemaker myself, to be honest. You see, I’m really not supposed to be here, in this city, and if the people in charge around here catch me I might be in some major trouble. I’m a shinobi from Sunagakure, and the Daimyo would probably pay some big bucks to whoever brought me in to him. That’s why I’ve been sneaking and spying, and why I was so careful around you. I thought you might have been one of them.”

Irony is great, isn’t it? Normally, Yatamaru would’ve noticed the band of bandits slinking around in the dark. They’d made it onto the rooftop before he’d started explaining himself to Dekobō and definitely heard every word he’d just said. He might as well have been wearing a neon pink shirt that said “Please Kidnap Me” in bright orange font across the front. But this wasn’t a normal situation, and Yatamaru was currently, abnormally, distracted.

”So, you like to pull pranks on people, huh? Dekobō, my funny little friend, I think the two of us might just get along after all…”

 

[Aurora]

After the whole prank, Yatamaru would go all serious with an apology on how he mistook the prankster spirit for a potential danger. Spies, secret agents. Such terms were a bit out of the spirit's reach, not quite sure why the shinobi would think of concepts like that. A bit too heavy a topic for Dekobō as well. Somewhat unsure how to deal with such a laden situation, he'd just grin and shrug it off with its own light-hearted nature.[lb2] "That's okay, man. No ah... harm done, right? I mean, I get it. I guess I could have been some dangerous spy but I'm not. And I think you put up quite the game either way. I had a good laugh, you had a good laugh. All's well here.", the shirt would smile brightly, hoping to have appeased the discomforting feeling the shinobi bore with him. Hearing that the two of them could even get along with these pranks was proof for the spirit the shinobi had come to accept the joke in full. He deducted that Dekobō had been behind the pranks at the docks, which was confirmed with a cheeky snicker from the spirit, and continued to explain a kindred spirit on pranks and trouble-seeking. This shinobi was not supposed to be here, which was coincidentally the same way Dekobō felt since the spirit had ditched his own home world to venture forward.[lb2] "I like the sound of that. Friend.", the spirit would emphasise that last word. The first time it used that word with another. And it sounded just fine. But as the two were bathing in the feeling of a newfound friendship, the shadows had no intention of leaving that radiant light shine for long. As one of the kidnappers attracted the attention of the two with a loud bang, another one flung a rope around the shinobi's legs to hamper his movement and pull him down. The third one would try to grapple one of his arms for similar reasons, whereas the two others would jump in with the idea of quickly knocking Yatamaru out so they could bag him and drag him to their hideout. Though a shinobi was not an easy target to take down, Yatamaru potentially knocking a few of them out, the five held the advantage of surprise and coordination and would, eventually but at a possible greater cost than expected, succeed at overwhelming him. Dekobō would feel powerless in the moment, its light-hearted spirit unsure what to do in such a serious moment when he was limited to the confines of a shirt... ​
OOC: Feel free to struggle and kick some ass before you go down!
"Pst. Hey, Yatamaru. Come on man, wake up... I know you're in there..."[lb2] The words of the spirit would linger around Yatamaru in persistence. The spirit had kept quiet as the gang had dragged away its new friend all the way through some dimly lit house, through sandy tunnels and dusky underground chambers, fear and insecurity grabbing a hold of it as it frantically peeked around to the best of its possibilities. The gang had not spotted its presence but if they would, Dekobō wasn't sure if he'd be able to put up a fight either way. Its tricks were pranks at best, hardly anything fight-worthy as far as it was concerned. So now stuck in the shirt, with a knocked out shinobi who was trapped in a dark underground room, the spirit tried to wake up its new friend to the best of its abilities.[lb2] The room itself would be not much to brag about. A simple four walls confinement, with a single heavy door locked tightly preventing any escape. No way to tell the exact dept or position, those trapped within were supposed to be left to their demise until the gang would come back to claim them. But as it stood, there was only silence and a vague bit of light coming from an oil lantern attached to the wall outside the prison. It was clear that whoever had thrown the shinobi in here was not around, potentially going about their business to sell this rich find to the Daimyo. [lb2] "So... Not sure who those guys were, but am I glad to see you're not dead. You think they here to get coin from the Daimyo? I sure hope not. That'd be a bad joke, right?" , the spirit would talk once Yatamaru was conscious again.[lb2] Should Yatamaru request it, Dekobō would tell him about the immediate vicinity at his behest, giving up whatever detail the spirit could come up with about the room and the nearby hallway. Even if it wasn't much, Dekobō had not been sitting around idly, making use of Yatamaru's wires to elongate his reach in hopes to gather a glimpse of this new area. The amount of nearby objects were far and few, generally limited in their use for a Tsukumogami inclined towards pulling mischief but whatever it could reach would be shared with the shinobi as well, hoping the man could provide a better strategic insight towards an escape - and possible deserved revenge.

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[Kazu]

Yatamaru felt uneasy.

The way Dekobō replied said it all too clearly. The pauses. The concern. Yatamaru had scared him — not that he was scary, or the words were scary; but, matters of politics and organized structures were outside the realm of his perspective. Dekobō was concerned with the next prank, not who waged war with whom.

I am not dealing with a human. I can't forget that.

Yatamaru's mind softened. He relaxed, a little, and found that he seemed lighter, somehow. Not physically, not mentally — but spiritually. Casting aside his machinations and plots, he found solace in the spirit's playful embrace of the now, and realized how heavy a weight he'd been carrying. He was in awe.

* B A N G *

Yatamaru crashed down to earth — hard. Every joint in his mechanical body moved with machine-precision, tempered by years of combat training, and honed by years of combat experience. Yet, he could not have been at more of a disadvantage: they had the element of surprise; they had caught him in close-quarters; and, they out-manned him. He was a long distance fighter, and furthermore relied on highly specialized equipment.

That didn't stop him from putting up a fight. He tried tangling them with his wires. He tried to land a few well-placed hits but, with a person holding each arm, his aim wasn't too good. He managed to get one good crack in; the power of a mechanical wooden arm at strikingly fast mechanical speeds, straight into an unprotected rib-cage, should never be underestimated. Ultimately, though, this match was over before it began.

The last thing he remembered was thinking: I'll never live this down back at the corps. Darkness. Then a voice. Dekobō?

"Whi...wh-whi..." What was he trying to say? Groggily, Yatamaru began to stir. He was trying to say something, as his arm moved almost of its own accord. Instinct. Muscle memory. "Whiskey...they didn't take it..."

On the underside of his forearm, the left one, was a secret compartment. "They got my puppets, scrolls, and weapons, but they can't have my whiskey!" Down the hatch. One gulp, but still a little left. Nothing better to cure a headache with. Yatamaru turned fully, giving his friend a great, hearty, smile. "Dekobō, I'm glad to see you. Good thing you didn't get caught, but I knew you wouldn't. You're tricksy." He cranked his head to one side, softly clicking over gear teeth until his head spring-loaded back. Once more on the other side. His knuckles popped like pistons. "Shall we let ourselves out? I must say, they're quite rude to leave us in here without any entertainment."

Scanning the room. A simple metal door, and an idea or two. "Dekobō, can you turn into a key? Or is it more of a possession type-deal?" He wanted to get out, but he was also fascinated by his friend. He wanted to know what he was capable of. "I might be able to cut through the door, but that would be pretty loud." He didn't like the idea, but it was possible. He could use the Crystal Jutsu, Diamond Cutter, to saw through the door — but that would attract a lot of attention.

"Unless..." His mind was working. Scheming. He had an absolutely evil grin on face. "We're not gonna escape. They're gonna let us out." This is gonna be fun. "Dekobō, think you can lure a guard or two back to the cell? I wanna show them something..." The basic idea: they come back, see an empty cell, and freak out. Hidden with the Invisibility Jutsu, he'd be a ghost. "Trick or Treat," he'd yell, before knocking them out with precision. Then they'd make their escape, accompanied by their new escorts. They'd be out of there before the guards could wake up and resist being used as living puppets.

That was the plan, anyways. Who knew what would turn out?

 

[Aurora]

The sensation Dekobo had felt before had not been a trick. It had been real. That clang made it obvious now. This 'shinobi' wasn't made of flesh and blood. He was made of puppet material, just like it had guessed it the first time. As Yamataru woke, he'd mumble about his whiskey. As if that was what a puppet needed to live by. His personal sort of oil, or something. The spirit could only snicker in amusement. Whatever was left of the whiskey disappeared in Yamataru's mouth, the spirit eyeing the empty flask as if contemplating how he could pull a new prank with it. Its thoughts would be halted as the shinobi spoke, equally happy to see Dekobo still being around.[lb2] Ideas were shared. They could escape. Could he turn into a key? Probably. It'd take him some time to figure which key was exactly needed but it didn't seem impossible. Dekobo was already eyeing the keyhole, ready to possess the whole lock to get a feel of what form of key he'd need to get this done when a second, better option was offered. They were going to let the two of them out. Luring in the guards, pulling a prank. The spirit's mouth would widen in a huge smile at the very idea.[lb2] "Think? My man, this is what I live for.", he'd say enthusiastically at the offer. "i'll just ah... borrow this for a moment. Don't forget to pick me up later!"[lb2] The whiskey flask. Dekobo would possess it and hop out of the shinobi's pockets, clattering on the floor. Enforced by the spirit possessing it, the item wouldn't break. Then, with the power of its will, the flask would slowly move under the bars and into the hallway where it would start shouting. Mimicking Yatamaru's voice in the process, sounding quite convincingly like a drunk.[lb2] "G-Guards! Guards! I dropped muh whiskey bo-bottle! Guards!"[lb2] Not too surprisingly as everyone liked a good drink to pass the boring moments, one man would peek into the hallway and catch the glimpse of the bottle. Considering it a treasure, he'd move closer with a chuckle and pick it up. He'd grin, not in the slightest about to return the bottle and turned his head to show a victorious grin at... no one? Grin faltering, confusion appeared in the eyes of the guard as he couldn't find the prisoner he was supposed to guard. He'd look left, then right in the hallway. Nothing. No footsteps. Eyes darting through the dark room. No one. Worried the man had escaped somehow, he'd open the door with his key and step inside.[lb2] "Trick or treat!", Yamataru then yelled, the guard almost jumping up a meter high in scare. Bottle flying through the air as he gasped in shock, then got knocked out cold by the shinobi. As the man went down, Dekobo laughed whole-heartedly. "Oh man! I can't believe that even worked! That was hilarious. Did you see his face?" Key left on the door, door open. Their exit was available. The bottle of whiskey would most likely be picked up again, Dekobo enjoying the last few snickers before he gave the directions from where they had come from. He had kept track of entrances and hallways the bandits had dragged them through. Mostly. Probably. So with whatever the spirit could remember, he'd point the way back out.[lb2] Escaping would not be as easy as the spirit had liked to believe it. The hallway lead to the right and to the left. A long corridor with several other prison cells, mostly empty. Dekobo pointed to the left, remembering that path clearly. It would end in a T-junction where the guard had been sitting on a chair at the corner, leaning lazily on two legs as he had been reading a book. 'Wires and Wiles'. Some passionate murder investigation story. To the right would only be more hallway, to the left very much the same. Dekobo mentioned leftwards.[lb2] "It should end in a small dining room. Table, chairs, clutter. And probably a handful of guards too. I think."[lb2] Indeed. At the end of the hall would be a single door leading into a 7 by 8 meters room. The place served as the dining room and leisure room of those on guard. The three members of the thug gang wouldn't be much to brag about, swiftly taken out should Yamataru decide on that approach. There would be two other doors exiting from the dining room. One leading to a small kitchen with little means of escape but where a platter with half a chicken and some veggies was available, the other door leading into yet another hallway. ​

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OOC: I'll be gone from 22-29 october. I'll reply once I've returned from vacation :]

 

[Kazu]

It worked. Yatamaru's expression could only be described as shocked, mixed with pleased, combined with a sense of unearned satisfaction, directly following the collapse of the guard to his surprise blow to the back of the head.

"I can't believe that actually worked," said Yatamaru, incredulous and slightly giggly. "But I'm so glad it did."

Two seconds of work had the knocked out guard stuffed underneath the meager pile of rags left for Yatamaru in the prison cell. This way, should anyone come by, they'd at least get the cursory impression of there still being an inmate. With that sorted, Yatamaru flashed through a quick series of handseals — seconds later, he looked just like the recently conscious guard.

"Can't even tell the difference, can you?" Yatamaru asked Dekobō rhetorically. "Now then, let's get the hell out of here..."

Following the spirit's instruction, Yatamaru walked down the left hallway until he reached his persona's previously occupied reading chair. Grabbing the book, 'Wires and Wiles', Yatamaru figured it might add to the disguise. Surely the other guards knew of their friends' reading habits? It was these little touches, the personal notes, that added to the subterfuge most beautifully.

Dekobō clued him in on what lay ahead, and suddenly Yatamaru found himself at another junction; both metaphorically, and physically. To the left was a dining room, probably occupied. To the right, who knew? Quickly calculating in his head, Yatamaru determined that he probably had a better chance improvising an escape than he did finding a better way out. To the left, he went.

Doing his best to act casually as he strolled into the dining/leisure room, since he looked like he belonged, Yatamaru tried to look like another over-worked guard. He was searching silently all around with his eyes, trying to find something that could help get him out, when he spied the kitchen with further means of escape, and the tool he'd use to get it. Casually, he enters the kitchen to "make some coffee."

"Use your judgement. Spice it up," he whispers under his breath, out of earshot of the other guards, knowing Dekobō can hear him. What happens next is something straight out of a fiction novel: the half-eaten chicken began to stand, walk, and squawk. Guided by little strings, its puppetmaster hidden in plain sight, the dead-alive chicken begins to strut around the room distractingly. Hoping to draw a crowd of confused guards, Yatamaru maneuvers his poultry-puppet away from the kitchen, towards the hall, and out as far as possible. He's counting on Dekobō to make the whole facade look more real, what with the spirit's penchant for Genjutsu and illusions.

If all went right, Yatamaru the Disguised Guard would attempt to escape out the new hallway — hopefully, with no pursuers.

 

[Aurora]

"This stress is killing me. How do you even live with this?", the spirit whispered back, voice lingering like a quiet echo around Yatamaru. Generally, pulling pranks like this was his forte but here he was almost panicking. As if getting caught would mean he'd never escape again. But the spirit was not bothered with that. He knew he could escape anyway anytime. No, his trouble was that he had to get the man out of this situation as well even though the shinobi was remarkably good at disguising himself. Picking up that book was brilliant, adding to the illusion to the point the men in the room had not bothered with him casually strolling to the kitchen.[lb2] But now Dekobo had to figure out a new way. Think, think! The spirit wasn't sure which way to go from here on. His memory had never been the greatest, the spirit generally winging it as the prank went on. Never having a need to remember where he came from or where he went to. That 'on the fly' thinking was now working in his disfavour. His thoughts interrupted by a strutting chicken, the spirit would observe the half-meal cluck about the dining room almost as distracted as the men were. With mouths agape, one could see how they were trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Meals didn't walk?![lb2] As the chicken continued its parade out of the hallway, two men would stand up and watch it dance away in the hallway. Like real morons, their eyes were seemingly glued at the improbability of the whole scene. Not even considering that it could be a trick of sorts. And why would they, right? It was not like there was any reason to. The two would talk to each other about how the milk in their mug of coffee must have been expired and other sorts of excuses or reasons to rationalise the situation. [lb2] But the third one would walk towards the kitchen, remembering he had left half a chicken and linking it to that. Investigating this impossible event. Great would be he surprise when he entered the kitchen and was greeted with the blaring sound of a siren straight in his ears. As Dekobo assaulted the man's ears, forcing the guard to clap his hands around his ears in hopes to get it out as he yammered in pain, Dekobou suddenly stopped screaming. [lb2] "Go go go!", he'd urge Yatamaru on to run. "Through that other door! I remember having seen a mirror somewhere. We need to find it!"[lb2] The 'other door' would lead into another hallway with a variety of doors. The first door to the left would lead to a small dormitory furnished with a handful of bunks, the twin brother of the room right on the opposite - the first right door. A couple of meters further a second door to the left would be locked, Yatamaru hearing the words, "Occupied.", should he attempt to open the door which seemingly lead to a rest room. The second right door would hold a small storage room with a bunch of clutter for clean up service. Materials such as a broom, buckets and other utensils could possibly provide Yatamaru with makeshift weapons or tools to create a new distraction for the men that would now be chasing him - all but the man having suffered the blaring siren sound would run in with daggers drawn. Lastly, there was the door right in front of them that lead to a small bathroom and a small alcove with a ladder leading upwards. However, Yatamaru would have to make a swift decision as to which way to go, the sound of boots marching near the exit upwards hinting that there would be, at the very least, one guard up there.[lb2] Spoiler: If going upwards The ladder lead into another room. A large room. The one man standing near the entrance would be rather surprised, seeing his own man popping out of the ground. As he was about to start a scolding at the disguised Yatamaru about clean up duty downstairs he'd halt in his words to hear the tumult going on downstairs. That momentarily distraction would be enough for Yatamaru to deal with the guard if he wanted, even closing the trap door if he felt like, but it would not make his decision any easier.[lb2] The room would be filled with a handful of other men. Three would be talking to each other, a casual conversation in an amicable mood. One would be shaving his beard at knife point, observing his reflection in the mirror attached to the wall to make sure he'd not cut himself, continuing his job with intense focus and disregarding whatever was happening at the trap door. The fifth man was leaning against the door that looked like the exit towards fresh air, waiting on something unknown as he played with his throwing knife by casually throwing it up and catching it again.[lb2] "Mirror!", Dekobou would say. "Bit small but... You got jump through it. Trust me!"[lb2] The question was... Would Yatamaru believe the pranking spirit and jump through the mirror or would he work his way out towards freedom one way or another? Spoiler: If going into the bathroom It'd be a matter of time. The bathroom was small, and the only exit was back into the hallway and into the arms of the chasing guards. A lonely tub stood against the wall, ready to be filled with precious hot water for the one in need of bath with a simple curtain offering a small bit of privacy. A sink not too far off the tub allowed one to wash their hands, while the small mirror dangling on top of it would make the spirit gasp.[lb2] "A Mirror!", Dekobou would say. "Bit small but... You need to jump through it! It's our only way out!"[lb2] Though the question rose if the spirit was about to pull some dumb prank considering no one could just jump through a mirror, the other option was to deal with the chasing, armed bandits within the close confinements of the hall, knowing that there might be more trouble to deal with on the floor above. Whichever option Yatamaru would choose, he'd have decide quickly...

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OOC: Enjoy the selection~

 

[Kazu]

”Stress?” Yatamaru’s eyebrow raised inquisitively. ”Dunno what you mean.”

Dekobō didn’t know it — how could he? — but Yatamaru did this all the time. He’s been an ANBU of Sunagakure for at least a decade, maybe more? He’d lost track. He was used to this. Smiling at his companion, Yatamaru tried to look reassuring.

”Don’t worry about them, okay? You’re with me — I got them. You just get us out of here.”

His distraction plan had mostly been effective, except for one smart guy: walking right into an ear-shattering alarm trap seemed to Yatamaru just what he deserved. The puppeteer admired his friend’s quick-thinking, knowing he’d been right to trust in him. When Dekobō urged them on, mentioning finding a mirror, Yatamaru wasted no time in heeding his friend’s words.

Yatamaru ran into the hallway, chickening out from his chicken-charade, and took a moment to think: to take in his options.

”Mirror, mirror, in the hall...” he took a few steps forwards, past the dormitories, ”...come forth, reveal yourself, to us all...” ignoring the occupied bathroom, pausing just long enough by the broom closet to grab one of the brooms, he stepped forward toward the empty bathroom, ”...a mirror I seek, hanging proud on the wall...” with a smile, triumphant, he listened as Dekobō urged him to jump through the mirror, wondering what sort of mischief this might be, ”...which, apparently, is my getaway; curtain call on this brawl.”

Dekobō was known for his pranks, but Yatamaru trusted him. He’d stuck with Yatamaru, after being kidnapped, to make sure he was okay. They had bonded, became friends out of respect, and were escaping together. Yatamaru knew Dekobō was a prankster, but if he said to jump through a mirror he’d do it — if it was a prank, then he’d have a laugh about it with him as the guards dragged them back to their cell. They’d just escape again anyways. And if he was serious? This trickster was also a spirit; who knew what he could do?

Broom in hand, Yatamaru wedged it between the door handle and the floor. The bathroom door opened in, so hopefully that would buy him a few spare moments. The bathroom was small. He’d have to jump off the wall, directly through the mirror. Maybe boost himself with a chakra string pull? That could work.

”Jump through, you say? I think we can do it. Hang on, though — this might be a turbulent ride.”

Yatamaru stood on the wall, held in place with chakra. He attached his strings to the wall along the edges of the mirror. Crouched down, trying to get as much take-off distance as possible, he took a breath. Preparing. In one swift movement, with the precision and speed of mechanical limbs, Yatamaru pulled himself and Dekobō sideways, towards the mirror, at launching speeds. There was no going back.

”I hope this isn’t another one of your pranks! Save them for the guys chasing us!”