Working Dreams

Thu May 19, 2022 5:45 am

Mission Name: Handle With Care
Rank: S
Mission Location: Borders

Challenges: -
Task: Some times, it takes a certain sort of professional to get things done. And sometimes, it takes a crazy person to do the impossible. You are that crazy person. The contract details the location of a person with incredible medical renown who has recently developed a cure for a very particular illness. Problem is, he is currently being held as a political hostage. Your task will be to enter this hostile land, avoid detection by their forces- including other ninjas- and retrieve the antidote from this person. Problem is, you must transport it by hand and on foot. Due to the rather volatile nature of the antidote, it will become inert when it comes into contact with abilities that alter space-time. This includes dimensional travel and storage. Don't allow the antidote to break, and do not spoil it during the return from the country, or else the contract will be considered a failure.

Word Count Requirement: 6,000
Reward: 12,000 Ryo / 60 AP

“Been awhile since we seen her face round here…”. The gruff voice said from a cloud of smoke. “Ain’t Jack yer normal broker?” He barked out, the smoke moving from his face, a hand…..no a hook waved through the air to clear it so he could be seen. A tall skinny man, a brilliantly long mustache and an outfit that looked on par with a pirate ship looked back at him. Hook was another broker in the underworld similar to what Jack had been. Though in the laters case, he’d been….removed from duty during a Halloween ball. It would seem that Hook was well informed, and the thought of lying this early in their conversation was a bad idea. These missing ninja brokers always seemed to have a way of determining the heart of a man and matter.

“I think you as well as I, know that old Jack retired. I’m sure he’s enjoying his time.” Maku would say, relaxing in the chair. He was amazed at how easy it was all coming back to him. He’d not taken a job in sometime, but here and now, sitting in front of the broker….it was like that time had never ceased.

“Yes well….ain’t we lucky if we get ter retire as easy as old Jack…..send him with a present did ya? Real nice.” Hook said a smile across his face, his hook moving down and spearing a candy chocolate. He popped it in his mouth, tongue obscenely licking the piece from the hook.

“Of course, a wonderful new suit, he will look good for the rest of his days I believe, but really I’m not here to talk about the past. Money isn’t easy to come by, the worlds slowing down, can you help a poor man out?” His voice was easy and slow. Playing into the game that they had begun. There was a certain finesse that went into these jobs that the standard village shinobi would never get to enjoy. Their missions merely assigned, where as these were….earned in their own way.

“Ye I got a couple of gigs….if the money is right fer you and me.” He’d say shuffling some papers pretending to read them in detail. He doubted very much that was the case. He had likely chosen the job the moment he’d walked through the door. Still, the dance, the game was important. “How bout a simple killin, some noble out ther in Rice country?”

Internally Maku would just shake his head. Of course he’d come out with something foolish for the first job. Assassinations and killings such as those were not something he planned on taking. Death had a way of bringing all his friends. Those were people he didn’t wish to meet in his current state. He felt confident he’d be able to perform some tasks, but something like that was beyond him at this time. “You know that isn’t what I’m up for right now. I’m taking it easy. One step from retirement myself.” He’d say loosely.

“Ye I think I might a heard something like that. Heard you were out of the jobs actually.” Hook would say his eyes looking hard at Maku. No doubt wondering just like so many where he had been, and what his next move was. In truth that was something he himself was searching for as well. Though the land of rivers restaurant sent him some passive income, it wasn’t much. He silently regretted leaving as much cash behind as he had. Still, Den would likely not have to rely on the good graces of strangers for several years. That was something.

“Look if you can’t help me, there’s other brokers. Ha Des was looking for clients I heard, he may be a hot head, but the man plans years ahead.” Maku would say, moving to stand up. It would be met with a grunt and angry muttering as he knew it would be. He’d known Hook, not as well as Jack but enough to know what to say to push the man’s buttons. Now he was finally getting somewhere.

“Fine fine, no killins, I got one fer ya then, real simple like. An old mob boss got some kinda gut disease. Ain’t no cure cept by this ole doc, but he ain’t been seen. We think the bosses son done did a kidnappin to make sure his ole dad don’t make it, speed up the inheritance o course.” He’d slide a peace of paper over that detailed the mission in earnest. Maku would read over it, and as the man had said it all seemed simple enough. Get the antidote form the doctor who was expendable, travel back with the antidote to the mob boss, Get money. Rubbing his chin, he considered. In truth this was the type of job he was looking for. Staying low, no outright deaths, and the client would be pleased enough to keep it all to themselves, especially since he doubted spreading information about his own weakness was good for business.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it, glad we got to the…point.” Maku would say with a slight laugh. He had started to feel like his old self, and the puns came easier. This was not doing him any favors with Hook, but that was just a bonus to it all. “I’ll take it, and all the information you got.” Hook would hand over the dossier that gave the details and profiles on the important people, as well as a detailed description of the antidote. Taking all of the information he would leave the office and step outside. Looking back at the manicure salon that doubled as a missing ninja mission hub, he’d laugh. “Should have got a manicure as well…”. He’d say as he started whistling. Walking through the small town streets, he made his way to the inn he’d taken up residence in for the time being. He only had a week to get the job done from a cursory reading, so better get started.

From the safety of the inn room, and the comfort of a drink and meal, he reviewed the documents. Even as he reviewed the papers a couple of times, it all seemed to remain as simple as described by Hook. The payor was a mob boss who had developed a rare illness affecting his digestive tract. Though wealthy he’d been unable to hire any medical shinobi that was able to make any dent in the illness, until a man named….Ibiji Hayato. The name’s irony wasn’t lost on Maku. A distant relative perhaps? Or merely a coincidence, he was unlikely to find out. The man had indeed created an antidote several weeks before. During its transport from his lab to the boss though he’d been snagged by the bosses sons men. A real coup de ta situation had unfolded as the bosses son sought to speed up his inheritance as de facto leader. Children, so quick to wish for greatness. Sighing he’d give the paper a toss into the fire place. The brisk Land of Snow wind always seemed to permeate this area, giving a perpetual chill to the air. Due to this the fire was raging and quickly ate through the documents.

The location the doctor was being held at was nearby, a couple miles down the road form the settlement that he was staying in. Supposedly the boy hadn’t destroyed the antidote or killed the doctor outright over fear he’d develop the same illness, which in Maku’s oppinion at least showed a bit of forethought that the mob boss himself had not shown. Perhaps his son would be better off running the organization. For a brief second he considered selling off the deal to the son and seeing if he could take an even easier pay day, but….that would ruin his street cred even more than his long time away had done. Resolving himself to merely take the mission as ordered, he sat back in his chair finishing the meal. After all it might be the last warm one he had for a couple of days. Finishing the chicken and spiced mead he’d resolve himself to start the trek in the morning. Several other individuals within the same inn were setting off in the morning as well which would help hide his own motives. He hadn’t needed to go in with stealth for some time, it was almost like he was starting from ground zero.

The bosses son while showing some level of forethought possessed the same tragic downfall of many children of powerful men. There was an old saying he could remember, hard times make hard men, hard men make easy times, easy times make soft men. The boss from what he was aware of was one of these hard men. Making an organization from nothing and capitalizing on the lawlessness of the boarder countries. His son had grown with wealth and the promises of an easy life presented by his forebearers. With such things he’d grown to enjoying the finer things in life. This was namely displayed in proclivities for good food, fine drink, and exotic women. Well, he could prepare one of those things, and hopefully earn the trust of another…and maybe steal some drink. His plan was simple enough. He would merge with the group leaving, some of which being concubines and entertainers to celebrate the son’s soon to be realized victory of taking over the organization. It seemed he had a decent enough following to make this happen. It was though this group he would be able to infiltrate the man’s base, and see the mission through.

That night sleep can quick, but uneasy. He again flashed through the different aspect of his life, as he had been doing every night. It was as though someone was trying to tell him something, or have him come to some level of understanding that was just outside his reach. This time his dreaming focused on Takigakure as he’d known it as a child. His time in the ninja academy, his frustrations on the lack of shinobi to train him. The perceived weakness of its leadership and its disinterest in the next generation or the betterment of the villagers. Things he’d attempted to do better when he briefly aided Yukigakure and to a lesser extent Kumogakure. Yet he himself had failed both of those villages as Saiga had failed him. Though, perhaps if he’d presented patience back then the story would be different. Perhaps had he not abandoned that day on guard duty Saiga would have returned, would have offered instruction and brought a younger Maku to heel. What would his life had been like had he become a true shinobi of the waterfall….what things would he have accomplished or would the walls have stifled him. At these thoughts….he dreamed even deeper…
—————————————-
Cold...pink...wet...

No it wasn't pink...more like scarlet. My head pounded, the chaos normally at play subsiding for an alien quietness. Opening my eyes the world danced to a waltz I couldn't get in step with...what had happened?...that was the main thought moving through my mind. Then, the world opened back up, my mind cleared, multiple thoughts began to occur at once...chiefly...we were in trouble.

The Takigakure forces slowly began to regroup. The sheer cold of the blast shaking them to the core, while the unluckiest of the shinobi now hung impaled from a multitude of glacial spikes extending from the wall of ice. They'd been taken by surprise, in a battle they had thought already won. An error that often resulted in death for even the best shinobi, and it had.

Pushing himself up, Maku tried to take stock of his battalion. Over half had been devastated by the surprise attack, while the rest where shakily getting to their feet. The only saving grace was that Youka's own had taken much less damage due to the direction of the attack.

A warmth was spreading inside his midnight black armor, while at the same time a cold breeze could be felt at odds with the situation. With great restraint the blonde shinobi forced himself not to look down. The damage was already done, but it would be nothing compared to their retaliation. The jovial play on his face was gone, replaced with an uncharacteristic shadow. Placing a hand on his chest that left a stain of red he reached through the fuinjutsu mark to speak to his brother. "Den...bring the medics in...we are gonna...need them." His voice was raspy, harder to get the words out than he had expected.

Forcing his frost covered hands to make some handseals he felt the pain ease, a warmth of comfort spread through his body, the self inflicted genjutsu was ill advised...even he knew that. Yet the battle wasn't over, and spying the smirking girl above the wall of ice had flipped a switch. Self inhibition be damned...this was why he was a shinobi. He prided himself on his position, this was the moment to prove it. Taking several steps forward the glacial wall began to recede, Taki corpses falling as though a macabre addition to the light snow.

Out of his right eye he saw the demon of red hair. Black tendrils searching from the crevasses in his hulking armor. There was no need for words. Their eyes met and they both knew the truth that was coming. He heard the priest give the retreat as he began to run forward.

They weren't brothers born by blood of any parent, but instead by the blood taken by enemies. It would take several minutes for the medics to arrive at the vanguard. By that time...one way or another the battle the two men ran towards would be over. He never saw the next moment, as his world went black.

First look at the office would give any casual observer the same thought. The pure sterility of it was almost overpowering. White tiled floor, windows with white curtains drawn, dark wood bookshelves with volume after volume of white leather bound books, and finally a matching dark wood desk with two swivel chairs stained the same, one on each side. The windows looked out upon the village. On one side the village leader's office was clearly visible, a bustling hub of activity. Out of the other, the entire view was taken up by the massive tree in the center of the village. The two pinnacles of Takigakure in one office view, the office of the Chief medical Ninja, and director of the esteemed Takigakure Medical Complex, Denkiteki Hayato.

"This would be a lot easier if you just held still.." a methodical voice said through what could have been a peaceful office.

"You could have better bedside manners, but here we are..." a second voice said, at complete ends with the first. Where the first was cool, calculated, and exuded a certain level of professional confidence...the second was sing song, erratic, and exuded a certain level of bravado esc confidence.

The sound of bickering saw two shinobi enter the office. The taller man, moved around the desk pulling his chair to sit beside the one in front of the desk. At the same time the much shorter individual flopped into the chair, putting the springs that held it together to the test with such force. Despite some obvious differences, the two men had a certain air about them that showed a closeness of blood. "What was it this time? And don't give me that "training" exercise lies you gave mother last week." Denkiteki Hayato spoke in the same cool voice, though a shadow of a smile had risen across his pale face. His brothers misadventures were often a great source of complicated amusement. To their parents however, it was bordering on shame.

"It was a type of training ya know...there was...cardio and...". Maku Jemezu Hayato never finished as his brothers hands moved through several seals before slapping his back with a green light. "Ouch!" The younger brother would yelp, "that was completely unnecessary..." his face would turn into a pout as he looked across the room, spotting the two in a mirror. The light from the windows cast both faces in relief. Around Maku's neck, and adorning Denkiteki's right arm was the shinobi headband sporting the Takigakure symbol. The strap of both a bright blue color showing both a Jounin of the village.

Denkiteki was tall, standing at just over 6 feet. Though his training as a shinobi left him strong, it was undeniable that he was more on the lanky side than some of the more taijutsu focused shinobi. He had dark eyes that appeared to drink in his surroundings, like an old oil painting even when his attention wasn't directed at you, you couldn't help but feel he was watching your movements. Complementing this feature was a curtain of dark hair that was long but kempt, and a pale almost aristocratic face. He wore a white lab coat over a black suit and tie, the head band on his arm in the traditional medic fashion the only tell he was a shinobi. That and the power that radiates from his hands causing the wounds of his brother to stitch together.

Where Denkiteki was all these things, Maku seemed rather opposite. Short, he was just under five and a half feet tall, though he wouldn't admit it. His eyes shined not only because of their unique violet color, but also with a certain airy mischief. They darted over his own features, chaotic and hard to follow. His skin was more sun kissed than his brothers, a byproduct of rarely being indoors. His hair was a shock of blond, not as long as his brothers, but three times the mess. His attire was more fitting of rank. A set of dark green pants and shirt covered by a forest camouflaged flak jacket. Despite his pout, and child like behavior though, the younger brother exuded just as much energy, though it was harder to pinpoint exactly how or why.

"There, all done.." the elder brother would say, pulling hard on the flak jacket to bring it up and jostle his sibling.

"Gee thanks..." The blonde would say blowing a raspberry as he fastened his equipment back properly. While he did, Denkiteki moved his chair back and sat behind the desk. Moving a ledger in front of him, he'd open it and begin writing. Filling out various reports, staffing, budgets, all the things that came with the administrative role he'd taken 2 years prior. For his part, Maku would lean far back in his chair, balancing one foot on the desk, and pulling out a small harmonica that their father had given him. Playing a jaunty tune, the brothers would once again be at ends. One working, and one distinctly not...yet even with all these differences the room had a certain quality about it, the quality of two people who had these differences, knew them, and still found a simple kind of joy in each others presence. For his part Maku would make idle chatter, about missions, the girls of the village, the latest recipe he'd been working on, all to a chorus of nods and occasional one word responses. Each brother comfortable in that very role.

It went on like this for some time. Though it seemed as though the blonde shinobi was simply avoiding work, the arrival of a messenger showed he had been waiting for something, albeit much longer than necessary. "Sirs!" The chunin would salute holding out a scroll. Snapping the chair up, Maku would stand and reach to take the note before dismissing the man. He'd resume his seated position before flicking a kunai from his sleeve and opening the missive.

His violet eyes moved over the page erratically. As though he read the middle of the sentences first, then the end, and finally ending back at the beginning. Eyes narrowed he'd look up. "Well I see I was betrayed by not only my "friend" but my "brother" as well." He'd make air quotes at the words of relation before putting the note down haughtily.

Sighing Den would look up, his eyelids heavy from note taking, and his soul tired from the forthcoming conversation. "You know very well she's worth it. You were the only one who disagreed."

"O I'm sorry. I just thought we had traditions around here, but yea let's let every one trick pony have a jounin rank. Why even have ranks let's just all be kage." Maku would punctuate this point by throwing his arms into the air, his voice rising higher with each word. "I can be the Makukage, you can be the doc-kage, Jorio down the street can be Ramen-kage...". He'd really been working himself up, but thankfully, for Den at least, the springs on the chair gave way to the backwards force and he toppled from the chair, taking the wind from his sails and the pride form the room...at least for the moment.

"Now I won't say you didn't deserve that, but you did." His brother would say heavily closing the ledger. "You know very well it isn't a full jounin rank. It's a Tokubetsu Jonin she will be. Even you can't complain about that." In truth Den had disagreed with his brother, and had not seen anything wrong with the appointment. The women had proved invaluable in the hospital, and despite some short comings in other shinobi arts due to being out of practice, her medical skills could not be denied. Besides, the extra help was more than needed.

"Yea well watch me." Maku would say getting to his feet and fixing the chair. "We aren't the other villages, this means something here." He'd gesture towards the blue fabric around the metal plate. "There isn't many of us, but we are each worth more than a dozen of other village jounin. I just thought we were keeping that tradition. Guess I was wrong." He'd cross his arms, as his brother pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not like she's even from here, but yea what do I kn..."

A gentle rap would come at the door, cutting off the rest of the tantrum. Something Denkiteki was infinitely grateful for. "Come in." He'd say gently, shooting a warning look at his brother.

At his behest the doors opened in what Maku considered a rather timid way. Walking slowly into the room Akihana Akari approaches Den before giving a polite bow. She was taller than Maku, light of build, with flowing blonde hair that was almost as bright as his own. Her eyes were a distinct yellow, the dormant effect of her bloodline. She wore the hospital uniform, a Takigakure band across her right arm in the same fashion as her superior. "Sir, you needed to see me?" Her voice was light, wispy, unsure...at least that was how Maku felt about the situation. In truth his vision was clouded by emotion.

"Yes Miss Akari. It seems my recommendation has...almost." Despite himself his eyes flickered to Maku for just an instant "been met with unanimous approval. You are to be promoted to Tokubetsu Jonin, specifically assigned you the medical core as my assistant. Congratulations." At this hed reach down to his desk and pull out a band. It almost matched the brothers, except for a line of white fabrics that moved through the middle of the blue like that of a wave. A symbolization of not the full rank, something Maku considered to barely count.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Maku gathered himself. "Well, have fun you two. Some of us have real work to do." His voice was still singsong which ruined the intended affect of somber dismissal. He hooked his thumbs in his flak jacket and made his way towards the window. "Tell mother I shall miss family dinner this weekend, and that I have decidedly not eaten my vegetables."

"Maku...your 29 I don't think she cares much anymore..."

"Yes well, all the same." Having made it to the window his hands would dance through several seals as he stepped out into the air. Before gravity could take effect a gold bubble seemed to envelope him, in a flash it compressed leaving the air empty once again.

Turning back to Akihana who had a slightly bewildered look, he'd look for some excuse. "You'll have to excuse my brother he's...well...". He'd finally give up and. Give a shrug, "insufferable, now let's get you squared away."

————————————

Late…late….he was running so damn late. The dream had taken him a way from this place. He’d viewed a separate world, a world that had never occurred but one where things where so different. Why must his mind torment him with a place that never existed and would never exist. A dreamland where everything had been in its own way, a perfect place . The shinobi world never offered perfection, it only ever offered blood and death, but every now and again it offered peace because of it. That dream, he’d stared down on it as though a third party. Seeing himself at the same rough age he was now, but as though he’d never left the waterfall. As though he had seen his training, his duty through to the end. Some things made no sense, like why was Denkitki there, Akihana, he’d never had met them if it hadn’t been for his leaving them place, still it had all seemed right, it had seemed….wonderful.

Wonders aside however, he still had a job to do. Infiltrating the troupe had been simple enough….after he’d finally caught up to them. Mingling in with the crowd he simply gave the story of q sleeping in; which seemed to go for the most part unquestioned. He had had Hook make up an identity and some papers showing him as a chef originally from Kumogakure. Here now he was set to serve the mob bosses son. An easy enough way to make sure he had close access. The journey would take about half a days walk before they arrived at the compound. Several large buildings surrounded by stone walls Mikey summoned by an earth style jutsu. A gate guard that frisked each individual, which in truth Maku didn’t mind much. Then they where shown to the quarters they would spend the night in after the party.

From there the group would split off in different directions. Dancers, jugglers, and the other entertainers to one area to rehearse and practice, while the cooks and caterers, along with Maku himself went to another to begin preparing. Shucking oysters of questionable origin this far inland he kept his eyes moving. He watched the guards and how they moved, the patterns of patrol. It all seemed fairly basic. The guy might have usurped some control but Maku seriously doubted he had taken the A team with him, rather the dumb ones who believed they had gotten in early on extra money.

With a precision and speed of someone who had been a chef for the last several years, he was quickly able to finish the sous chef prep work. Under the pretense of feeling queasy from handling so much seafood he found himself excused and moved back to the sleeping quarters. Watching he’d wait for an opening in the guard rotation before sneaking out. Ducking into a side building, a quick wardrobe change, clipboard in hand……the world was his…..well oyster. It is a well known universal truth that a man in uniform, that is holding a clipboard is not a man to question or bother. For he may write your name on said clipboard, and that is never a good place to have one’s name. It was in this way he was able to very carefully maneuver the buildings in the small compound. Determining the jail type area where the doctor was held was easy enough it was the second most guarded building, the first most guarded being the mob bosses sons living area of course. The real question however, was where was the antidote stored. It made little sense for it to be with the doctor after all.

Thinking back to the mission details, the doc wasn’t part of the requirement. So with a small inwardly, not very meaningful apology, he wrote him off the mission. He’d be fine, probably. Instead his mission was to get the tonic, and split. The details had described it as being fragile at best, so there was no choice but to hoof it once he had it in his possession. There were two likely scenarios. Either the antidote was with the son, which was the most likely case, or it was hidden away somewhere within the compound. Unlikely, but possible.

His plan was a simple one. Sneak away from the dinner during entertainment and search the living quarters. Presumably he would find the antidote there, and then it was a simple matter of escaping and running away for his life, and the life of the mob boss. Who he more or less didn’t care about, but hey money is a good thing. The remainder of the day went by quickly as he fell back in line with the sous chefs looking revitalized from his earlier feigned illness. In truth, he had fun with this portion of the mission. Being a chef was something he knew, he had genuinely liked most of those he was working with. He did hope when it was all said and done they would be spared from any retribution. While the old hit would have already killed the lad, taken the antidote and skipped away with a song on his lips…..he was determined to maintain himself as under the radar. Soon, the day melded away into night, and the time to act would be at hand. Without the need of him in the kitchen he was given a caterers wait staff uniform, as that would be his pretend role for the evening.

His mind continued to drift back to his dream, if the idealistic world he wished he could go to, or at least see come true. Dissociating through most of dinner, he almost missed his chance. It was during the juggling routine that he snuck away unnoticed. The guards now properly drunk with revere, the mob bosses fat cherry cheek son with a lady in each arm could be seen guffawing at the rather poor efforts of the performers. It was always an indicator of someone’s intelligence by what low brow entertainment they found hilarious. Juggling was near the bottom of this list, so naturally Maku had a hard time tearing himself away. Still, he was able to do it with a bottle of seltzer water and a sparing plate of food. He’d only been stopped once with a simple excuse of the boss wanting the prisoner to have one decent meal to celebrate his succession. The guard who was drunk hadn’t originally been willing to move until a hint that more drink was available saw to his quick leave. From there, he merely double backed and boom, he was in…..damn this guys good.

Inside the lads living quarters a small glass jar was found. Swapping its contents for the seltzer water he was careful to be gentle. Storing away the antidote within his wait staff jacket. Sneaking out of the building, he’d quickly move through the compound back to his original position. Sneaking back into the party. Running away right away could be dangerous he’d judged by the guards still sober at the gate. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was those that took their job seriously. Gathering up several bottles he made sure to leave them near the guards to give an added bit of temptation. It only took another hour before this but if temptation had done it’s duty. The rest was child’s play. Sneaking past the arm clasped guards he’d hit the open road. The road was thankfully empty, becoming even more silent as he moved further away. The distant music and chatter was nothing but a distant memory now. Having replaced the antidote with a fake seltzer water it was unlikely to be discovered during this night at the very least. No, it was the open road, a long walk back and delivery to receive his payment.

With nothing but the road ahead, his mind was free to search, Back into his memories. Even now the details of the dream he’d had were fading into obscurities. He could see Den in his Takigakure uniform, Aki as a newly promoted chunin….himself as a jounin, a rank he never achieved within the village system. The first part of the dream….had that been Youka fighting alongside him, in a war with the Snow village. That had nearly happened though the actual event had ended up being highly anticlimactic compared to the war scene he had watched. For the remainder of his journey his thoughts held a time that never was and a place that could never be. Arriving back in the smaller village he met up with hook, handing over the antidote and collecting his payment.

“Guess yer haven’t lost all her touch….though…”. He’d hold up his hook hand looking at a watch strapped just above it, “from the way I heard it, ye could have done it in half the time a couple years ago.” He’d pocketed the elixir and slid over the stack of ryo. Smiling a crooked tooth smile at his dig into his clients reputation.

“Yes well, gotta keep it interesting.” He’d say easily pocketing the cash. “Besides, this all stays hidden doesn’t it.” His voice changed slightly, lower than normal. As he stared into Hook’s eyes, Maku’s own eyes seemed to revolve. The blueish green morphed into black and then red. The eternal mangekyo stared into the man, and pleased it saw every muscle fiber twitch in shock. Then, it was gone, a smiling black haired man staring back. “I think we have an understanding and a business agreement.” He’d say reaching out a hand and shaking the hook.

“Erum ye that’s fine. I got mouths ter feed to ay know, don’t need no trouble.” Hooks words attempted confidence and non-challenge but…he was shaken. Not many had stared at the eternal mangekyo, and fewer still Maku’s. It was rare he caught people looking in his eyes back in the old days. More common now, but he hadn’t used any jutsu in quite some time. His energy in such things was weak, and a prolonged fight would not see him the better for it. Still, perhaps it was time to regain a little practice in the matter. Scaring old Hook was just a bonus to the down payment.

Leaving, he’d hire a shinobi service carriage. A rather fancy arrangement where the horse could be scratched behind the ear and reverse summoned back to its owner. Paying a rather large amount for the “we won’t track you” package he set off with all the contents of the inns room he’d brought with him. It was time to return home, a place to keep, a place to hide, a place to dream. He’d never liked sleep, finding it a waste of time. Yet now, for the first time that was all he wished to do. To dream dreams of another world, and to be with his friends, his family…..maybe those he even loved. The thought came and he brushed it aside. Foolishness…..and yet as he looked to the side of the carriage a small flower shop was offering blue roses cut fresh form the land of tea. If there was a god, or gods…..then mortals where clearly their play things. These subtle reminders proved that to him more than any major even that had occurred. Feeling his head drop several times to his chest, the horse stayed true, the carriage wheels creaking rhythmically as they went…..away from the past…..during the present……and to a future that never was.

TWC - 6009

Exit

Claims
+ 60ap
+12k ryo for mission
+7.5k ryo for A rank MN
+ 50 to chakra
+ 10 to Vigor

+ 2500 to Space Time Amp
+ 2500 to Nin Amp
+ 250 to Genjutsu Release mastery no handseals
+ 250 to Fear Pull mastery no handseals
+ 500 to Feint

Thu May 19, 2022 12:55 pm

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Working Dreams

Working Dreams

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