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1 Probably Just a Moment [Private] on Tue Jun 07, 2016 3:01 am

Mikasa Ackerman

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Genin
She seldom had time for this, she would admit.

Her schedule was often one determined on the go, as information came and went along her search. It had taken her from Sunagakure, the familiarity of deserts and dry air replaced by a cooler climate and rockier terrain. Rocks as far as the eye could see and stalagmites jutting out and casting ominous umbras across the lands as they stood proud against the sun provided her with a refreshing shade every few kilometers, a welcome change from the ruthlessly flat sands of her home. It was amongst a nest of these towering earthen structures that Mikasa found an out-of-the-way village, free of demagogues and politics twisting the authenticity of her search with pierian words laced with an ulterior motive.

Currently, the Ackerman found herself seated in a diner, at a half-broken wooden table with a stranger she’d been forced to accommodate when the diner had grown full. Swirls of dry, brown, thin noodles nesting within ornate china stared her in the face as her jaws broke down the contents within her mouth, the girl paying no attention to the antics of the individual two feet from her, nor the cacophany of music and noise that came from the jukebox in the corner and the myriad of other jolly occupants. Mikasa rolled up more noodles with her fork before helping herself to hell-knows-what mouthful she’d had that day, the bland taste of the meal a crime against her tongue, helped only by her inability to inhale whatever inhumanely felonious smell it projected.

Someone bumped into the chair behind her, and a rough hand slammed onto her table before removing itself, never once letting her glimpse at its owner, but leaving in its place a small rectangular piece of paper jagged at one end where it was likely ripped from its brothers. Her order was printed in faint blue beside the small cost she’d paid for her meal, underneath an equally insipid company title, but her eyes were drawn toward the scribbles in red, messy handwriting.

419, 66, 832, 42.

She burned the number into her head, before she tore it quickly in half and stuffed one part into her vest pocket while she allowed the other to be swept up by the diner’s swarm of people, first dropping onto the floor before a number of steps from wet, mucky boots made it no longer recognisable as a slip of paper, much less one that bore information. The man in front of her gave her a curious look, ignoring the sharp look she shot back at him as a warning. Not wanting her search jeopardised, she forgoed the unfinished plate of noodles in her and downed the cup of tea  – water and leaves – in one go, before slamming the fine teacup in front of him so hard it introduced a crack into it. She stood up withdrew her spear, leaning lazily against the wall, and moved to leave, only for several drunks to bump into her on the way, inhibiting her exit.

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance, the only outward sign anyone would catch of her displeasure, before she would grab one man by the collar to wrest his attention solely onto her. Once it was adamant she wasn’t happy with his previous carelessness – more of the diner had quietened down at her sudden display of violence now – she pushed him off towards the wall which he slammed into with such force that the clock nailed into it just above him crashed onto his bald head. He slumped onto the ground in a bout of unconsciousness as she took another step towards the exit, with patrons parting to let her through, eyeing either her or the length of weapon over two meters that she gripped in her right palm, waving it here and there as if entertaining a dog on a leash, bringing to her ears the relaxing silence she’d been denied the entire afternoon before she closed the door to the diner behind her.

419, 66, 832, 42, she recited mentally. She didn’t know what the numbers meant. They could have been coordinates, a password, or a telephone number. Regardless, she walked off to the nearest hotel she could find, intent on getting a cheap room for the peaceful silence it would bring as she puzzled it out. Whatever it meant, Mikasa knew, though, that it had something to do with Eren, and that meant it was important.

759 words | 759 total

2 Re: Probably Just a Moment [Private] on Wed Jun 08, 2016 6:19 am

Fukai

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Fukai's foot crunched down on a tumbleweed as he trekked through the stone plains. This had always been a bit barren, a bit in the middle of nowhere. Orangey yellow hard earth stretched out behind him. He had come far today, away from the village to visit a small town that nestled on the bend of a river. Melted snows from the tops of distant mountains joined up here, their freshly melted, frigid water flowing freely down the countryside. Hundreds of years ago, this area of the river was where travelers congregated. It was a shallow and wide part of the river, making it possible for people to pass over with their mounts and cargo. The river was also a place that life flourished, being the first oasis encountered when moving north. What resulted was a town built up around peoples needs. Countrymen migrated here to make profit catering to their needs, and then their permanent residence brought it's own hunger for products and services. A busy town had grown up from the dust around the now bridged river.

This made it an important place for many reasons, depending on your business. There were plenty of opportunities for eateries and hotels, and many merchants and travelers enjoyed the long awaited comfort that they could experience here. More of interest to Fukai, this place was like a natural checkpoint. Most people in the area passed through this way, so it was much easier to keep tabs on what was going on in this neck of the woods. He knew Iwagakure had a few shinobi outposted here that kept an eye on things and to make sure that there weren't any threats passing through unnoticed.

In fact, that was what Fukai had been doing this morning, investigating a report that had been issued by one of the end strands of his growing network. Someone had fingered a suspicious group that had headed straight through the town without stopping once. Usually this was a task that he left to someone else, but today he didn't have any work on, and his vastly superior travel speed would make it more of a chore than anything else. Plus, it didn't hurt to check in and be seen by his subordinates. However, the endeavor had ended with a dead end. The group just happened to be a high security transport of high value goods, the type that required premium pay. After knowing that info, it made sense that they would be heavily armed, as well as not stopping in the city. It was a private and undocumented shipment, the type that was not going to get taxed at the village gates. But that was not his concern, it being relatively small fish compared to his overarching agenda.

His black and dark purple cloak hung loosely over his frame. He was a conspicuous character, especially with the massive staff on his back. The cloth shoes begun tapping as his feet shifted from earth to cobbled stone. He was approaching the town outskirts. It was a quaint little place, compared to the metropolis that was Iwagakure. The buildings were mostly only that of a single story, with the odd hotel rising above them to a second story status. Walking down the street in and amongst the people, Fukai noticed many different groups from all sorts of origins. Many from the south, travelers in desert robes and sand masks that quite clearly came from the wind country. Others wore neoprene jackets with fibrous jumpsuit like clothing, the sort of thing that you would find in the always damp area governed by the village hidden in the rain. All these people came here for their own individual reasons, but all having this place and time as something in common. It was a good metaphor for how people came together and parted in life as a whole, the unguided sharing of destinies and happenstance moments that defined people's experiences.

Fukai was off to check in with the old woman who ran a diner in the town. She had been the one to notify his people of her concerns, and he wanted to show his face to her and reassure her personally. Ignoring people after they perform a wanted action was no way to encourage them further. Showing his thanks for her participation would hopefully make her more eager to do something similar again. Casually strolling down the street, not taking much notice of the wary looks of those around him, he turned down a side street to get to the diner. It was understandable that travelers took care when around these parts, as those travelling across country were not safe by any means. Even in this city that was under the shadow of one of the great nations would be one where residence double bolted doors and clutched weapons close to them as they slept. A constant influx of strangers meant that those who were up to no good were also in the mix. The civilized treasures within the town walls being the envy of those who lived on the barren land around these parts. Being a relatively long way away from the village didn’t help either, the response times to get a team of shinobi out this way would take too long to solve immediate needs. The couple of men that were posted here would have to be able to deal with any issues that arise. There shouldn’t be too much trouble though, as Iwa still patrolled the country’s borders and Fukai kept tabs on the independent communities within the country himself. Mostly they would have to deal with small disputes and internal crimes.

That was something that some other man had to worry about, not Fukai. He pressed on the door and walked through, jingling the bell that was fixed above the door. It was nice and cool indoors, a hand cranked fan circulating smell from the kitchen all throughout the room. Cooked eggs and fried sausages, his mouth moistened at the stimuli. He walked over to the lady behind the till and greeted her, pulling back his hood. She was a small pruney woman that he had never met, but once she had seen his purple eyes with the one black stripe down the middle, she knew who he was. He talked to her in a hushed tone, saying as few words as he could to tell her that he had followed up on her report and that there was no issue there. She started to stutter out an apology, but he stopped her, instead thanking her for her services and ordering some scrambled eggs. She nodded and smiled, before hurrying away to the kitchen. Fukai looked up, scanning the room for open booths. There was one between a man and his two children, and a young lady.

Upon walking up next to the booth with the family in it, the father focused on Fukai, obviously recognising him with wide eyes. Fukai passed, and wiggled into the booth as the father hurried his children out of the diner, pushing them out the door despite their discontent whines. He was used to this sort of reaction, being one of the more recognisable faces in the land, his flare of purple chakra and staff being synonymous with the wrath that Iwa presented those that defied it. He lay his staff down on the table and leaned back, resting. A man walked past the booth in front of him, tossing something down on the table with heavy hands before walking past without any interaction. He couldn’t see anything else from this angle, nor did he care to. It looked like some sort of exchange, probably information. He didn’t bother speculating any further, as he wasn’t interested in any business except his own. There were lots of sorts of reasons for these things out here, a lot of potential for shady business. With that, the young woman got to her feet and headed for the door, passing in front of the old lady that had come to deliver his eggs.

The wrinkly woman would place the eggs on the table and jerk around at the noise of a commotion happening at the doorway. Fukai turned his head to see what was up. There was a little tussle going on, the young woman throwing a man against the wall, only to have a clock fall down and clock him on the noggin, sending him to nap time. The old woman looked worried at this occurrence. Fukai grabbed her arm as she was about to withdraw, to grab her attention. As she looked at him, her height about level with his sitting height, he smiled and thanked her for the eggs, reassuring her that he was here. She forced a little smile and scurried off to pick up the patron off the floor and clean up the mess that the clock had made on the floor. The young woman was gone, having left the diner door swinging. Fukai’s attention was pulled back to the smell in front of him. He wielded his fork and dived recklessly into the fray.

1538
~exit~

Training:
1500/1538 learning sojutsu subspec from Misaka


____

 
Buki: SS | Nin: SS | Rai: SS | Fuu: SS
D: 4 | C: 12 | B: 7 | A: 1 | S: 1

3 Re: Probably Just a Moment [Private] on Tue Jun 21, 2016 10:47 am

Mikasa Ackerman

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Genin
759 words | 759 total

{Exit}

Strength: E-0 → D-0 { 750 words | 0 ryo }

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