Can a Brudda Rest

Time had not been kind to the world. All of the knowledge amassed within the adult male's head had been unusable in some senses. As he walked the sky bridge to get to the towering gates of Kumo, the landscape according to his own memory had drastically changed. What had been a simple gate and mountains in the distance had changed so drastically that if he did not have a modern map he would have never found the village as a whole. It made him wonder how Suna had been faring, but that was a road long behind him. The blonde haired male had stopped in front of the gates for a moment and looking up to gauge its true size. The dull, almost black colored eyes marveled on it for just a moment as he mused to himself," I wonder how many years have went by to get the village to this state. Who is the Raikage now I wonder...and how is Koroshi doing...," he thought to himself as he tilted his head toward the guard shack to see if someone would notice his presence. Whenever someone did notice his presence he would smile and speak," Greetings. I seek asylum for a time to rest my battered body and mind," he would plainly state as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his to show a sign of neutrality, for the moment at least. He didn't know how neutral the village had been lately, but with the shifting of powers that he had heard about so far it was likely he would have to leave and go elsewhere. Only time would tell.

275 WC

[Attempting to Enter Kumo]

Sitting in the gate guard station, as per usual typically nowadays, was Hiroki Shimada alongside his dire wolf, Shichiro. Both were of the same destined path for this mortal plane, and so the two often walked alongside it together ever since they found each other again. Much similar to how it would seem that the typically fun loving prankster, was having to take on more serious and stern roles seeing as how often he was getting positioned as the guard on duty. But such was the way of things now. At least it would seem that over the past few days, activity has started to pick up. More interesting people were proceeding to come in to the village.

This day, would be close in relations to those being talked about.

Picking up on the higher chakra presence, 4 eyes, two human; light and blue, resembling a soft sky; the other two, wolven, yellow in nature with a harsh orange hue would lay to rest on where this presence was being picked up from. A lone shinobi, blonde, relatively tall. Sunagakure Shinobi Headband, meaning they were from Wind Country. Great…how…quaint…trying to not focus on this, the other man would be listened to while he was speaking. The simple sound of silence being broken by the beat of the spoken word, going in decent time and cadence. Nothing unusual could be predetermined from these things, so there was a simple reply for a simple statement:

”Hello. Entry into the village at this time can be potentially granted. I’ll need your name, where you’re coming from and any village affiliations. Also, any additional travel documents including your Shinobi ID to help speed this process up would be great if you have them.”

WC: 288

How long had the pair been there? He hadn’t seen anyone in some time, but that wasn’t an issue. The male had noticed the gate guards eyes looking him over, and trailed his eyes up to his forehead? Had Ikumo been wearing something there? He hadn’t worn his headband in ages and the scuffed and scratched keepsake had been tucked in the small bag situated on his back so it couldn’t have been that. Maybe the guard had been imagining things. None the less Ikumo’s right brow would raised ever so slightly as he listened to the male. “Potentially granted. Should be a yes or no to whether someone would be granted entry or denied but to each their own I suppose,” an inward thought that would never see the light of day. It was a weird yet roundabout way of saying things but maybe this was how gate guarding has been changed to these days? Questions that definitely needed answers but the weary male had no time to ask them. He would of course keep things as civil as he could, though judging by just the way he could sense their chakra it might have been an interesting bout if it were to happen. Either way he wasn’t here for that.

None the less when he was asked for his name, where he had been coming from and village affiliation he would cross his arms before speaking,” Kurogane. As for where I have come from, the land of Claw. No village affiliation to speak of and I don’t have any shinobi identification as I am not a shinobi of any village,” it was stated plainly but in a way that governess some form of respect. After all if he was denied passage there were other places he could visit. Maybe a beach.

(Just a quick fyi he wouldn’t have had his headband on or even out)

303 WC

Huh. The conversation had ran its course but now the male had been standing there, idle. Whatever would have came from his mouth had found itself stuck as if time itself had halted him to a stop. Such a weird time to do so, but then again who was he to judge. Shrugging, Ikumo would take a pen and write down his information- or the lack thereof as best he remembered before placing it on the guard shack desk and walking into the village. He wasn't hear for anything malicious, just food and board. Might as well see what the village was like after what felt like a decade away from the shinobi world. Maybe the Kage here had changed, the last he could remember it had been Kurisu....but times indeed do change. Whether or not the Kage was the same man, different man or woman the result did not matter to him. He was simply a fighter looking for a place to lay his head before he left back out into the world. If nothing else had been needed from him, Ikumo would head through the gates as he had been doing previously before first seeking out some food for his stomach, and lastly a place to stay. Before nightfall he would wander off into the mountains for some meditation and in the coming days be a mere shadow on the wall before vanishing once more into the jaws of the world. His hands would slide into the depths of his pockets as he began to whistle a tune as old as time, his soulless eyes focusing on the path ahead and the future it laid out for him.

240 WC
TWC: 818
Claiming 8 Stats
818 words toward Jotun Grip 818/1000
[Entering the village since its been 72 hours since the last post]

Approved