A Dark Mark, The Sixth Curse

Isamu approached the restaurant known as Darkside, hoping that this place had access to a bar of some sort. His stress levels had been increasing progressively as the day went on, putting people’s lives at risk in order for them to become stronger was starting to take a toll on the man’s conscious. Even if he was proving to be rather skilled, or perhaps lucky, with his Curse Mark applications it still was nerve racking every time. The wannabe samurai knew that his task wasn’t done yet, as much as he wished it. His creator had intended for him to give out quite a few of these Curse Marks, and he’d only attempted 5 so far. While Isamu hoped that he wouldn’t have to apply to many more he knew that he at least needed to create one or two more successful ones before he could try and convince The Masked Man that the village had been sufficiently strengthened.

The artificial man was still wearing his full armor except his helmet, which was tucked under his right arm as it had been for most of the day. In the man’s left hand was a lit smoking implement, one of a few joints that Sota had helped Isamu prepare before he had left the man’s home and entered the village.  

Approaching the restaurant, the armored man wondered if the place had any policy in regards to smoking. Not wanting to offend anyone by walking in with something already lit, the man took one last long drag and then passed the joint to a patron who was lounging outside the establishment.

Entering the building Isamu had to admit he liked the look of the place, especially the wait staff. Noticing a bar on one side of the building, the blue eyed man made his way over and sat down, placing his helmet on the counter. His expression was one of weariness, as though he’d worked a long day. And he had, applying the Curse Mark so many times in one day hadn’t just been mentally draining. It’d taken a physical one as well, while his chakra reserves weren’t completely drained the man had used up nearly half to enhance himself and apply the mark 5 times.

Isamu patiently waited for the bartender, keeping to himself as he simply enjoyed this brief moment of respite. When one finally approached him the wannabe samurai looked at them, his face showing his weariness but his blue eyes still possessing a piercing quality to them.

“You have any whiskey? I could use a shot right now, if you wouldn’t mind. I know nothing of your brands.. just so long as it isn’t cheap, please.”

WC:488

[Exit]