Days like this seemed to dwell in dullness, the cloaked figure could only bask within the dreadful aura of the of the waking sun. Waves of radiation plummeted Kirigakure and the cloaked man in sequence, but it seemed he was getting the short end of the stick and was experiencing more of the unbarring heat then anyone else. Such weird weather for a place like Kirigakure, it usually rained twenty-four/seven around these parts. The sun usually chose to hide its face when it came to the Water Country. Encroaching upon the entrance of the village the cloaked figure continued along the lines of other scrawling travelers scurrying along the forest floor towards the large bridge which made for the entrance of Kirigakure.
The barred heat continued and he could only escape it's bombardment of light waves by simply slipping into his subconscious mind to wander. Time seemed to stop, no longer relevant in his subconscious mind. He figuratively bounced from topic to topic pondering on all the aspects of his life: from what he was going to eat that night, to how this cloak made him appear rugged, he even retracted his sighting of the most gorgeous florist who adorned a small little kiosk back in Turtle Bay, a small island city in the Northern Providence of the Water Country.
Chuckling, "Why such a big pond?"
In that same moment he drifted away from his subconscious mind and back to his conscious one to preview the latest mishaps of the world. As he entered the village he took a load off and filled an empty pocket of space on a frail nugatory two seater bench which stood on the inside of the village. "Home sweet home..." Forging five singular hand motions in the form of a ram, boar, tiger, hare, and ox which where common in the ninja world he eased his bodily chakra to encompass the other half of the bench in a duplicate of himself. Lazily sitting and surveying the actions of the crowd closely. Peering deep within the village from the bench, the streets were alive with the flow of bodies. A plethora of voices bounced off of the wooden and concrete buildings that were packed so tightly, creating a funnel of imperceptibility.
Which made his actions minuscule in comparison to the bustling city. In the midst of enjoying such a jovial and wonderful scenery that was his home village of Kirigakure, the shinobi had other objects to deal with. The cloaked figure was always eager to take up actions on his own and this would be considered his biggest whim to take on the Mizukage. The solitary cloaked figure was full to the brim as it sat closer to the edge of a small wooden bench, casting the occasional glow that illuminated an aura of chakra around it. This incorporeal body soon made it's way toward the crowd in a menacing way. Nezumi rose from the bench next and breached upon the rooftops of the village, making his way to the towering building that was the office of the Mizukage in the same fashion as his counterpart.
The sun was high in the sky that day. It stretched its great rays over the entirety of the Water Country. It bathed the Village Hidden in the Mist in a great warmth and seemed to breath life into the city as a whole. The citizens, much like all other villages, kept busy with their daily chores. The streets were alive with the flow of bodies. A plethora of voices bounced off of the wooden and concrete buildings that were packed so tightly, creating a funnel of imperceptibility. The thoughts and vocalizations weaving in out - and everywhere between - the citizens of Kiri made for quite a chaotic environment. However, this Hidden Village had a beating heart at its core. The military and economic prowess that the country has amassed over decades of battles and trading made the village a hub of activity. It was a greatly respected power among the nations of the continent and to the keen eye a source of great power waiting to be exploited.
A cloaked figure stepped casually through the bustling streets of the village. The man seemed to be about six feet in height, maybe a little taller. His weathered cloak hung loose on his shoulders and chest and stretched down to about halfway down his shins. A hood hid the face of the man. As for the rest of the figure's person, he looked rather generic. The amount of "mysterious" and "wayward" travelers passing through the village numbered in the hundreds. The citizens payed no mind to those who kept to themselves. It was a sort of mutual understanding between the citizens and strange travelers. The citizens of the village wouldn't bother them, and they wouldn't bother the citizens.
The cloaked figure seemed to be in search for something. True, he hadn't been within the confines of this village for some time now, but he could tell the layout of the Hidden Village like the back of his hand. He needed to if he wanted to find what he was searching for. He walked along the street-side viewing the scenery: flower shops, bakeries, bathhouses, hotsprings, the hospital, restaurants, etc. Basically enjoying the scenery of the village and all its most appealing areas before making his way to his real destination.
The clouds perched atop the outer rims of the village of Kirigakure no Sato sat only a dozen or so miles away from where the cloaked figure gazed out upon his precarious setting within the village. It was said once...that the attitude of every man born in the mist village was given the attitudes that these bodies of waters that surrounded it had. To deep for the heavens...even though they will never match it. Like the water that covered the vast earth, the ocean reflected the endless heavens. The clouds reached out upon the village casting it's spell of horrendous weather amongst the village. Having great elegance that could only be found in the slow rhythmic motions of nature. Spreading it's daunting wickedness across the the village in a furry of unexpected rage. The emotionless gaze of the eyes, who watched the lightning dance and scurry amongst the clouds, shifted now to fall upon the newly created incorporeal body of his copy. The storm had came without warning, yet the people seem used to it. Bombarding the the cloaked man below without mercy.
As he continued through the soaked streets, the cloaked man eventually made his way to the very center of the village; the Heart of Kiri. A massive building stood before him, the Mizukage's Office. The edifice was sandy blue in color with great awnings of wood radiating from the center of the building every twenty feet or so. It stretched high into the air, and on the front of the building was the symbol of the whole Water Country, the kanji of "water."
As his arm raised, it signaled to Nezumi that he had reached the destination. Nezumi stood atop neighboring building only meters away, nodding his head to in approval for the next step of action. The cloaked man stood before the building for a few minutes, taking in the sight. With a sigh, the cloaked figure then stepped forward placing a hand firmly on the door, quickly after entering the building.
The inner sanctum of the building brought back so many old memories. The long winding hallways that seemed to continue for ages; the narrow staircases of cement that were incredibly stifling; the friendly faces of fellow shinobi that took no head to the cloaked figure. The man fished for glances as he rose his head slightly, giving a slight view of the rest of his face. However, the shinobi walking the halls payed no mind. They were each consumed in their work; something the young man had once thought to be an incredibly dreary and dull task. The cloaked individual sighed. They were making this to easy.
After walking for a short while, the cloaked figure had finally made it to his destination. The young man read the metal plate across the middle of the door.
The man nodded. He grabbed the handle of the door, grasping it tightly, pushing it open and and leaping into the office in the same motion. With a light rap on the wooden frame of the door, the figure made his presence known. This incorporeal body soon made it's way toward the man sitting before him in a daunting full-on sprint. The man should have just taken notice to his presence before he made way for his attack. In an ellipsis of action, the cloaked figure breached upon it's secondary pouch on it's left hip, drawing out a kunai. Calculating his distance from the man he clocked himself to be five feet away. In a downward slash the cloaked figure would attempt his attack on the man upon entering a close enough proximity, slicing his body from his right shoulder to his torso. He left ample space between him and the boy in regards to a counter attack, but due to his cloak it preempted his motion slightly rendering the right side of his body open to attack.
The barred heat continued and he could only escape it's bombardment of light waves by simply slipping into his subconscious mind to wander. Time seemed to stop, no longer relevant in his subconscious mind. He figuratively bounced from topic to topic pondering on all the aspects of his life: from what he was going to eat that night, to how this cloak made him appear rugged, he even retracted his sighting of the most gorgeous florist who adorned a small little kiosk back in Turtle Bay, a small island city in the Northern Providence of the Water Country.
His Subconscious Mind wrote:Her kiosk was just northwest of the cloaked man at the time of their first meeting. It sat upon a pond that decorated the entrance of the city. The structure must have been built into the ground to allow the body of water to surround it. A mere bravado of some sort to welcome travelers that came through the island with grace rather than effrontery. The mien of the pond was flourished with bouquet of fraxinella flowers, in a lesser meaning, the flowers symbolized the element of water which pays homage to the countries burning will and in turn resonates with the same corresponding energy that the country emitted. Hinting at how prideful the people of the island where.
Lilly pads decorated the actual essence of the pond, while touchstone rocks made for a bisecting bridge to walk on from the mainland to the kiosk. The dimensions of the pond bore a significant distance (12' x 12' or 144 sq. ft.) which dumbfounded the cloaked man at first sight. Regardless of the size of the pond, that girl and her bodacious body only made that kiosk seem like heaven.
Chuckling, "Why such a big pond?"
In that same moment he drifted away from his subconscious mind and back to his conscious one to preview the latest mishaps of the world. As he entered the village he took a load off and filled an empty pocket of space on a frail nugatory two seater bench which stood on the inside of the village. "Home sweet home..." Forging five singular hand motions in the form of a ram, boar, tiger, hare, and ox which where common in the ninja world he eased his bodily chakra to encompass the other half of the bench in a duplicate of himself. Lazily sitting and surveying the actions of the crowd closely. Peering deep within the village from the bench, the streets were alive with the flow of bodies. A plethora of voices bounced off of the wooden and concrete buildings that were packed so tightly, creating a funnel of imperceptibility.
Which made his actions minuscule in comparison to the bustling city. In the midst of enjoying such a jovial and wonderful scenery that was his home village of Kirigakure, the shinobi had other objects to deal with. The cloaked figure was always eager to take up actions on his own and this would be considered his biggest whim to take on the Mizukage. The solitary cloaked figure was full to the brim as it sat closer to the edge of a small wooden bench, casting the occasional glow that illuminated an aura of chakra around it. This incorporeal body soon made it's way toward the crowd in a menacing way. Nezumi rose from the bench next and breached upon the rooftops of the village, making his way to the towering building that was the office of the Mizukage in the same fashion as his counterpart.
The sun was high in the sky that day. It stretched its great rays over the entirety of the Water Country. It bathed the Village Hidden in the Mist in a great warmth and seemed to breath life into the city as a whole. The citizens, much like all other villages, kept busy with their daily chores. The streets were alive with the flow of bodies. A plethora of voices bounced off of the wooden and concrete buildings that were packed so tightly, creating a funnel of imperceptibility. The thoughts and vocalizations weaving in out - and everywhere between - the citizens of Kiri made for quite a chaotic environment. However, this Hidden Village had a beating heart at its core. The military and economic prowess that the country has amassed over decades of battles and trading made the village a hub of activity. It was a greatly respected power among the nations of the continent and to the keen eye a source of great power waiting to be exploited.
A cloaked figure stepped casually through the bustling streets of the village. The man seemed to be about six feet in height, maybe a little taller. His weathered cloak hung loose on his shoulders and chest and stretched down to about halfway down his shins. A hood hid the face of the man. As for the rest of the figure's person, he looked rather generic. The amount of "mysterious" and "wayward" travelers passing through the village numbered in the hundreds. The citizens payed no mind to those who kept to themselves. It was a sort of mutual understanding between the citizens and strange travelers. The citizens of the village wouldn't bother them, and they wouldn't bother the citizens.
The cloaked figure seemed to be in search for something. True, he hadn't been within the confines of this village for some time now, but he could tell the layout of the Hidden Village like the back of his hand. He needed to if he wanted to find what he was searching for. He walked along the street-side viewing the scenery: flower shops, bakeries, bathhouses, hotsprings, the hospital, restaurants, etc. Basically enjoying the scenery of the village and all its most appealing areas before making his way to his real destination.
The clouds perched atop the outer rims of the village of Kirigakure no Sato sat only a dozen or so miles away from where the cloaked figure gazed out upon his precarious setting within the village. It was said once...that the attitude of every man born in the mist village was given the attitudes that these bodies of waters that surrounded it had. To deep for the heavens...even though they will never match it. Like the water that covered the vast earth, the ocean reflected the endless heavens. The clouds reached out upon the village casting it's spell of horrendous weather amongst the village. Having great elegance that could only be found in the slow rhythmic motions of nature. Spreading it's daunting wickedness across the the village in a furry of unexpected rage. The emotionless gaze of the eyes, who watched the lightning dance and scurry amongst the clouds, shifted now to fall upon the newly created incorporeal body of his copy. The storm had came without warning, yet the people seem used to it. Bombarding the the cloaked man below without mercy.
As he continued through the soaked streets, the cloaked man eventually made his way to the very center of the village; the Heart of Kiri. A massive building stood before him, the Mizukage's Office. The edifice was sandy blue in color with great awnings of wood radiating from the center of the building every twenty feet or so. It stretched high into the air, and on the front of the building was the symbol of the whole Water Country, the kanji of "water."
As his arm raised, it signaled to Nezumi that he had reached the destination. Nezumi stood atop neighboring building only meters away, nodding his head to in approval for the next step of action. The cloaked man stood before the building for a few minutes, taking in the sight. With a sigh, the cloaked figure then stepped forward placing a hand firmly on the door, quickly after entering the building.
The inner sanctum of the building brought back so many old memories. The long winding hallways that seemed to continue for ages; the narrow staircases of cement that were incredibly stifling; the friendly faces of fellow shinobi that took no head to the cloaked figure. The man fished for glances as he rose his head slightly, giving a slight view of the rest of his face. However, the shinobi walking the halls payed no mind. They were each consumed in their work; something the young man had once thought to be an incredibly dreary and dull task. The cloaked individual sighed. They were making this to easy.
After walking for a short while, the cloaked figure had finally made it to his destination. The young man read the metal plate across the middle of the door.
"...Mizukage..."
The man nodded. He grabbed the handle of the door, grasping it tightly, pushing it open and and leaping into the office in the same motion. With a light rap on the wooden frame of the door, the figure made his presence known. This incorporeal body soon made it's way toward the man sitting before him in a daunting full-on sprint. The man should have just taken notice to his presence before he made way for his attack. In an ellipsis of action, the cloaked figure breached upon it's secondary pouch on it's left hip, drawing out a kunai. Calculating his distance from the man he clocked himself to be five feet away. In a downward slash the cloaked figure would attempt his attack on the man upon entering a close enough proximity, slicing his body from his right shoulder to his torso. He left ample space between him and the boy in regards to a counter attack, but due to his cloak it preempted his motion slightly rendering the right side of his body open to attack.
- Spoiler:
- Chakra Pool: 275/300