A Night Out [Open/Free]

[Shiruko Makoto]

"God, I need a drink."

Makoto wasn't aware he was echoing the words of one of his brothers, one particularly fateful day quite a few months earlier, but he wouldn't have been surprised to find out. Exasperation, he well knew, would tend to produce phrases like that.

His exasperation was over the shouting match he'd had to intervene in between his two teammates some time earlier. Well, shouting. Neither of them really shouted--Sheimi spoke more snippily than usual, and Tatsuya took passive-aggressiveness to nigh-heroic heights, but neither of them had really shouted with anything other than their emotions.

Which was really enough to start fraying Makoto's nerves, so he'd walked right out of the hotel and headed straight for the nearest bar he could find, after doing the admittedly very little he could do to defuse the tension.

Which was to actually snap at the both of them to act like adults.

Really, they'd been doing a lot of tedious work lately, and of course everyone was wearing a bit thin, but that was no reason to turn this into the trip from hell. So as soon as he'd realized he was only making it worse, he'd simply left. As either, or both, of them could have done at any point rather than acting like damn trainees who didn't like each other.

(Maybe at some point, he could explain to them about his empathy. But no. He didn't want people to know that.)

He'd uttered that frequently-used phrase the second the open--well, underground sort of open--air hit him as he left the hotel. Fortunately, it hadn't been difficult to find a bar.

Sand's bars were not much like Moon's. He had been to that one with the cactus in the corner before, when someone else had nearly started a bar fight, and it hadn't resembled one he'd ever seen before. This one didn't either--it wasn't as dark as he'd expect from, and the tables and bar were made from metal rather than wood. After a moment's thought, of course, this made sense. Wood, in the desert? He already knew that was an uncommon commodity.

He wasn't in the mood for anything fancy--never was, really--and just flung himself down at the bar and ordered something on tap with a kick to it. He received a mug of something foaming and amber that was not entirely unlike the beer he was used to, and settled back on the bar stool.

To anyone familiar at all with Sand's population, he was an obvious foreigner. To anyone who had been to Moon, his clothes were obviously from there.

To anyone remotely familiar with bars, he was there because he needed a distraction.

"What I'd like," he muttered, not quite quietly, "is to be around people not constantly at each other's throats..."

 

[Kazu]

Takeyashi was still trying to get used to the taste of alcohol. He was a younger man, about sixteen years old. It wasn't such a strange sight in Sunagakure, where the law of the land essentially equated to "if you can fight, you can drink." Sometimes you might see fresh Genin celebrating their graduation from the academy by running down to buy their first beer, only to find that they found the taste absolutely disgusting! Even though you could drink at a young age, not everyone liked the taste of the amber liquid until a few years later. Takeyashi had started to grow accustomed to the taste of most beers, but graduating on to hard alcohol had been a bit tougher for him. Firewater imported from Fire Country always burned too much, so he'd steered clear of that class of drink for a while now. He was slowly easing his way back into it, but for the moment he was content to sip on his foamy local brew.

Takeyashi sat at the bar, off to one side, enjoying the slight buzz he was developing halfway through his second drink. He was dressed in a black cloak which covered his body down to his knees, with the hood tossed back to give his dulled blue hair and murky blue eyes a chance to be seen. His sun-kissed face was calm, though draped in a slight but noticeable scowl. His pants were light brown in color, almost as if they were fashioned out of sand, and ended at his upper calf. His feet were covered by sandals, securely fashioned so as not to fall off. The young man, sitting there in his own little corner, saw the foreigner walk in. It was painfully obvious he wasn't from around here, and Takeyashi saw a few other people take notice of his presence too. It wasn't all that strange for an outsider to enter the village, but it still was a cause for curiosity. The man sat down, ordered a beer, and took to sipping on it quietly on his own — he had come here for the drink, and nothing else.

The young man was torn: on one hand he was curious about who this stranger was and what lands they came from, but on the other hand he didn't care much for other people. Takeyashi never felt at ease around other people, except when he was out on a mission with shinobi from his village. Common people, who weren't accustomed to a shinobi's way of life, didn't understand him. 'Understand' isn't actually the correct word. It's more like they despised him, feared him, hated him, and accused him of treachery. Takeyashi was not one of them, all because of something outside of his control. Something he tried his best to keep hidden when out in public, for fear of the ridicule and the fearful stares. His fist balled up a little bit, then he relaxed and pulled his cloak together a little bit more. He half his glass of beer all at once, and made his decision. He was tired of being afraid of rejection.

The young man got up out of his seat and walked over to the foreigner. Sitting down in the seat next to him, Takeyashi indicated to the barkeeper he wanted another drink. As the man behind the counter got to work, Takeyashi turned to the man sitting next to him. "So, what's your story? You're obviously not from around here." As the barkeeper set his drink down on the table, Takeyashi nodded his thanks to the man and took another sip of his beer. The foam stuck to his upper lip, so he wiped it away with the back of his left hand. Turning back to the foreigner, he extended out his right hand for a handshake. "My name is Takeyashi, it's nice to meet you."

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

This was a happy-drunk crowd. That was nice. Happy-drunk grated on Makoto's senses a lot less than any other kind of drunk.

There were a few twinges of curiosity over him too, of course, but as people didn't seem to be actually approaching them, he didn't bother acknowledging them, either. There wasn't any point in drawing attention; he didn't have a mission to talk to the locals this time around and he wasn't a wildly social person anyway, even when drinking.

Sand liquor was certainly not the same as Moon's, even if the visual resemblance was similar. Perhaps he ought to upgrade to something a little stronger than beer; this wasn't quite on the same strength level he was used to. Or maybe that was because he tended to drink with people who had pretty high tolerances, and had to go with something similar to not dent his pride.

There were sparks of other emotions here and there that he ignored, since none of them were overtly hostile. Funny, it seemed a little easier to filter when he'd drank a bit. Maybe that had to do with how he knew there was nothing much of importance in the air of a relatively friendly-seeming bar, or maybe his own relaxation level.

Since there was no threat, he didn't notice someone had dropped into the seat next to him until the man started talking.

Determination; curiosity. Nothing hostile at all. Which made a nice change from the people he'd had to talk to the past few days. Makoto knew their hostility had been directed at each other, but that didn't mean a whole lot to his empathy.

"Would you believe this isn't actually the first time I've been to Sand?" he half-answered, idly swirling his half-full mug. "That being said: no, I'm from Moon. I'm..." here on a mission didn't sound right, considering as he was supposedly from a civilian village, "here for the upcoming festivities. Sort of."

Alcohol loosened his lips to a rather severe degree, in his own opinion. Normally he wouldn't even make a slight slip toward the fact his homeland was more than it seemed.

"Sorry," he said after a brief second, setting his drink down on the bar to accept the handshake. "Makoto. Nice to meet you too."

In actual fact, he hadn't met many locals the previous time he had been there, even though he was supposed to have. Maybe that was a good thing though; it meant no one would recognize him this time.

"I apologize in advance if I seem a little...snippy, or out of sorts," he added as an afterthought. "My traveling companions have been grating on my nerves recently, is all."

 

[Kazu]

Their idle chatter began, the alcohol making their lips looser. Takeyashi listened to the man speak, nodding his head as he mentioned how this wasn't his first time to Sand. A bright smile made its way onto Takeyashi's lips. "Hehe, guess you just couldn't stay away, huh? This place has a certain charm to it." Taking another large mouthful of his drink, Takeyashi began to feel the alcohol really take affect. He was getting pretty buzzed by now. "Festivities, huh? Yeah, I heard things are supposed to get pretty fun around here. We really know how to throw a grand event around here, I'll tell you!" It was at this time that the man pulled a bit of a one-eighty on the young man and apologized. Frowning, Takeyashi was a little confused by the gesture. "You don't need to be apologizing to me. Relax! Your friends sound like they've upset because they've all got a bit too much sand in their unmentionables." Chuckling at his own joke, Takeyashi pulled back the rest of his beer and placed it back down onto the bar with a satisfying thud.

Now, it was the young man's turn to keep the conversation going. His drinking friend had his turn, and now it was Takeyashi's. "You're from Moon Country, huh? I hear it's beautiful. They say the Barrier Reef off the Western Shore is stunning to look at." While he waited for an answer, the young man contemplated getting another drink or not. He definitely wanted to drink more, but maybe he ought to cool it a little bit for the moment? For now, his buzz would last a bit longer. "Anyways, you said you're here for the festivities? Going to the wedding later on, then? It's supposed to be pretty grand. I can't imagine your friends will still be grumps once the celebrations begin." Takeyashi was having fun. This guy seemed nice, and it was great to get a chance to talk with someone he didn't vaguely know or recognize. It was hard to not recognize people in such a closed off community like Sunagakure, so these moments were rare and welcomed. A nice beer with a foreigner — what more could you ask for?

"Say, if you're going to be at the festivities, why don't we meet up again? I don't know how well you've explored Sunagakure, but there's some really great hole-in-the-wall places that we locals know about. You can even bring your grumpy friends."

 

[Ryu Hime]

[Topic Entered with npc Taisen Roku]​

Most of the people here seems to be happy drunks with laughing and cheer, but if you look carefully there was one that appears to have had too much to drink. The man seems to have passed out on the table with an empty bottle in his hand. However he didn’t snore or make much sound so it was easy to miss him.

Each table in the building had a lamp most likely for atmosphere, but the one at the sleeping man’s table was lit. The man was Taisen Roku and he lit the lamp himself with an Abysmal Harbinger jutsu, but one would never guess. The flame did not look like a creation jutsu; it looked like a simple flame. Roku was not unconscious because he overindulged, but because he was Yamanaka and he had his consciousness possess the flame. He found booze helps him relaxed enough to enter into this state of tranquility. As a flame he felt one with nature. He listens to all that went around him. He controls the flickering of the flame. He felt like he was dancing to a melody made of laughter.

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

A local who was proud of his city, hm? Well, as far as Makoto was concerned, they had a lot to be proud of. Sand was the first ninja village he'd ever properly visited instead of just spying from a far-off distance when on a mission for the Wardens. Not only did they seem to be an efficient, well-run ninja village, but they'd pulled themselves back from a debilitating isolation to be involved with what looked like a multi-national party.

"You could say that," he agreed amicably. "So far, fortunately, this time has been a bit less exciting than the last. I think I'll rather prefer a good party instead." He paused to take a sip of his drink. "And that's nice of you to say. Perhaps the alcohol will make me better company than I would otherwise be."

The image of his two teammates acting like children flitted across his mind again and he groaned.

"You know what, never mind, forget them." He waved his hand dismissively. "Their business isn't mine for the rest of the night. They can happily kill each other and I will have nothing to do with it."

A couple of men entered, in a slightly worse mood than the overall atmosphere of the room. They appeared to be drunk already too, if his senses were any judge, but his own mild buzz let him ignore the negative, sandpaper-scratching feeling across his own senses. It was a pity that being drunk all the time wasn't really an option.

His lips twitched into a smile as he heard the virtues of his own home country extolled. Oh, if only you knew...

"It's pretty spectacular," he agreed. "You have to be careful if you want to go in the water, of course, but I imagine that's true of anywhere."

Makoto drummed his fingers on the table briefly, then mentally shrugged and pulled out the invitation from his pocket.

"Someone hand-delivered this to us--my clan--a couple months back," he said, holding it up casually between two fingers. "Seemed like fun, or a 'diplomatic opportunity' as a couple of our elders put it." Stretching the truth, but not really; this was a largely clan-based operation due to the setup of the team. It wasn't very hard to imply the quote marks with his voice, either, given his general thoughts about the whole thing. "So, since I was here before, I got to come back again, since not many people where I'm from know the lay of the land here."

He tucked the invitation away again just as the two men started shouting at another one in the corner, apparently of some acquaintance. The shouting cut off after a few seconds, and he relaxed, realizing he'd picked up their anger even through some rather strong beer.

"I don't see why not," he said after a second of consideration. "I don't actually go drinking at home all that often, but I can hold my liquor. A guide to Sand's bar scene sounds quite agreeable."

Just then, there was a crash in the corner where the yelling had been. He twisted in his seat just in time to see the man who had been getting yelled at swing a nearby chair at one of the newcomers.

"Oh great," he muttered as the mood of the room swung into anticipation. He glanced back at Takeyashi. "What do you think the odds are of getting out of here without dealing with the inevitable brawl...?"

 

[Kazu]

"That's the spirit!" Takeyashi roared with a laugh, clapping the man jovially on the back, as he dismissed his teammates as if they were an afterthought. "It's the-" Takeyashi paused for a moment to let out a small burp, "-their fault for not coming out to have fun!" As the two of them continued drinking, having a good time and exchanging stories, a couple of angry patrons walked into the bar. They were the only ones who seemed to be looking for a fight, and Takeyashi simply tried to ignore them. Such a crowd wasn't really welcomed here, and the usual customers here knew it. Instead, he focused in on the foreigner's agreement that they should go check out more of the bar scene in the city. A wide smile grew upon his face and his fist slammed down onto the counter top enthusiastically. God, it was great to be drunk. "You, sir, know how to have a good time! We're going to- *hic* -have some fun tonight!" He downed the beer he had been nursing, making this his...oh gosh, he'd lost track of how many beer's he'd had tonight. Maybe Takeyashi shouldn't have let himself get so drunk, especially because he was younger and a shinobi. But damn, that beer was just so good...

A crash resounded in the corner. With a delayed reaction, the young man turned towards the noise with a confused and annoyed look. Those buffoons who'd entered the pub earlier had gone and started a fight, ruining the calm and lively atmosphere that they'd all been enjoying. This was the last straw. Turning to his new friend when he mentioned leaving without dealing with the brawl, Takeyashi's faced scrunched up a little as if he were trying to understand the words the man was saying. "Get out? Hold on, we'll do- *burp* -do that in a second. I gotta first teach these guys a lesson." Loosened up by the alcohol, the young man clumsily got out of his seat with a mission on his mind. Steadying himself a little, he turned again to his friend. "This'll only take a second. I shwear." Dragging his feet over towards the corner, Takeyashi did his best not to hit into the other patrons sitting at their tables. It was hard, considering how much he was swaying, but for the most part he seemed to be doing okay. That was until he got to a table with a man passed out on a table with a flame still lit on the table. As he walked, his arm accidentally hit into the man's passed out body. Spinning around in an almost comical way, Takeyashi gasped in a really surprised way. "Oh my gosh, I'm so shorry. I didn't mean to hit you!" Extending his hands in front of him to indicate that he was really sorry, it didn't dawn on the young man that this guy was knocked out for at least a few moments. Once he realized it, though, the shock seemed to disappear. "Oh. Wait a minute..." Shrugging to himself, the young man continued on his holy quest.

Approaching the rabble-rousers, Takeyashi's brow scrunched into a frown. He balled one of his hands into a fist, and then shouted at the fighters. "Hey! Whaddya think your doin'? We're all trynna drink o'er here!" With his balled fist, he sucker punched one of the people fighting straight in the gut. It was a really hard punch, and instantly sent him collapsing on the floor while clutching at his stomach. Smirking while addressing the fallen man's friend, Takeyashi looked pretty cocky right then. "Tha's right. You haddanough?"

 

[Ryu Hime]

The flame on the candle only grew hotter and brighter as a couple of folks disturbs his moment of serenity with a bar brawl. After the chair throw Roku was tempted to intervene however it seems he was not alone in that idea. Roku then decides to let the six armed fellow take a crack at them. Unfortunately the man seemed rather drunk, which did concern him. The Hachiashi bumps into his main body as he walks over to the two hooligans and sincerely apologizes. The flame flickers and tells him, “It’s alright.” The man probably thinks he is more drunk than he really is seeing a flame speak to him.

After the first punch Roku’s consciousness returns to his body and he gets himself up off the table. Blinking a few times before addressing a man at a nearby table, “I *hic* bet you a beer the sorry sap turns tail and runs like a coward.” The guy immediately agrees to Roku’s bet. What’s a bar without some gambling? Though Roku could have worded that better. He was likely incidentally goad the guy into staying. Roku will likely later blame the drink for his lack of foresight.

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

Makoto felt himself cheering up significantly and even managing to tamp down a bit on his empathy as he drank. He wasn't as much of a lightweight as he looked--nothing compared to his brother, of course, but still, the bartender hadn't given him anything particularly strong (probably due to his height). But still, good, non-hostile company worked wonders that even alcohol didn't.

And it was possible he was slightly drunker than he was physically, from all the people around him. Okay, maybe he wasn't filtering very well.

He still wanted to find some place where there wasn't going to be a fight, though.

"I really don't think getting involved is a good..." he trailed off and sighed as his new acquaintance decided to go off and deal with the ornery drunks. What was it about Sand nin and jumping headlong into danger, anyway? "Oh, all right."

He finished his own pint and slid off the stool. Fortunately, Takeyashi seemed to have the actual fight well in hand, for the moment. Makoto glanced at the unconscious man draped over the table and raised a single eyebrow. Drunk? Passed out drunk? Very possibly...

The man Takeyashi had punched was making pitiful noises on the floor while the guy they had previously been trying to start a fight with was awkwardly clutching the chair he'd swung at the other one with (and missed, significantly--Makoto estimated him, based on his swaying, to be somewhere in the vicinity of 'plastered'). The second of the two newcomers was nervously glancing between his friend on the ground and Takeyashi.

He vaguely heard the previously-passed-out man mention a bet, and absently half-replied to it. "Depends on whether he's too drunk to consider consequences or not."

Even the bartender was watching, now, to see what happened, though he badly pretended to be polishing a glass mug instead.

"Hey Daisuke!" someone yelled from the other end of the bar. "What's the matter, did you finally drink your last braincells away?"

Oh shit, he's a regular.

Makoto had about five seconds to register the wave of offense rolling out from various places in the bar--the upright newcomer, several various directions that must have been friends of his--before a table was overturned and the back of the bar erupted into a fight.

The unfortunate Daisuke, for his part, decided to take a clumsy swing at Takeyashi.

Probably not a good idea.

For his part, Makoto simply twirled his parasol out of its spot at his side and spun it to open so he could block anything that came flying his way. Half a second later, a glass smashed into it, so he was rather thankful for it.

"This," he called to Takeyashi, "was why I would have preferred to leave!"

 

[Kazu]

Takeyashi was having trouble keeping his focus on the fallen man's friend. There was still a cocky smile plastered all over the young man's face, which probably didn't help in keeping the guy from getting involved. However, Takeyashi was in no mental state to account for that right now. At this very moment, all he knew was that the room was accelerating at an alarming rate. Somewhere off in the distance he heard shouting, something about drinking. Takeyashi's eyes lit up, thinking that someone was offering him more booze. Then he heard another yell from behind him and saw the guy, whom he didn't know was named Daisuke, charging him with a furious anger in his eyes. The man made contact, instantly knocking Takeyashi down onto his back as all hell broke out around them. A full on bar fight had erupted, and Takeyashi was to blame. Not as if he realized it, though. To the young man, all he knew was some dude had just tackled him to the ground. His drunken anger was overflowing. "You jerk! I'mma gun fuck you uop!" Unfortunately for Daisuke, Takeyashi was a shinobi. He was faster, better, and stronger than an average civilian. Takeyashi, with both of his arms, lifted the man off of him, and raised him above his head. Despite the man's cries of despair and mercy, the young shinobi fell backwards, aiming the man's head towards the ground. It was a brutal KO, knocking the man out instantly. Getting up, Takeyashi unleashed a mighty roar of victory. "Oh yesh! Whoz da king 'roun ere?!" Swaying back a forth a little, the young man brings one of his hands up to his chest. Extending his thumb straight into him, Takeyashi starts to giggle as he speaks. "'Dis gauy!" He was way past plastered at this point.

His sense of victory and accomplishment was short lived, however. As his excitement began to fade away, and he looked around at the fighting erupting, Takeyashi realized he'd left his friend at the bar alone. Making his way over there through a torrent of smashing glasses, fist fights, and angry battle cries, Takeyashi re-grouped with his foreign friend. He saw him warding off attacks with a parasol — must be a foreign thing. "I told'ya, only a mi'ute." Takeyashi watched with a quizzically confused look as a bottle flew past his head and hit the parasol before shattering to the ground. "Wha-?" The foreigner's words finally sunk into the young man's brain. "Oh, I gotchu. Lesh go, 'den." Takeyashi was about to lead his new friend out the bar, when suddenly one of those participating in the fights grabbed at his cloak. With great force, the man pulled at Takeyashi's cloak. The young man didn't realize what was going on at first, but the buttoning on the cloak was coming undone. In just a moment, the cloak was ripped open to reveal what he'd been hiding underneath — Takeyashi possessed not one set of arms, but three! As the drunken brawler continued to pull, the cloak came completely off to reveal his biology to everyone in the bar. A couple of people stopped to stare stupidly at the abnormality, though most people continued to simply fight. For Takeyashi, however, the world seemed to instantly stop spinning as clarity came to his mind. "We shoul' go. Right now."

Pulling Makoto's arm, the young man barrelled through the people in between him and the door. He had no problems, now that he could use all of his arms again, to push people cleanly out of the way. He looked like some sort of monstrous spider, pushing people from one side to another. Bursting through the front doors, a couple of people on the streets snapped their heads to look at who had slammed the doors so rudely. A few people in the crowd saw Takeyashi, fear and confusion spreading rapidly as they tried to process the multi-armed man. Thinking quickly, Takeyashi looked to the roof. "Quick, follo' me." Takeyashi let go of the man's arm, or else he'd pull him awkwardly upwards. Jumping from the group halfway up the building, the young man scaled the rest of the wall as easily as any shinobi would do. Instantly, all pretenses of him not being a Sunagakure shinobi were obliterated. Makoto would know immediately. If the foreigner had followed, he'd find the young man sitting with him back against the opposite roof wall, a dejected look on his face. It was almost an embarrassed look. "I-*hic*-wish you ha'n't seen tha'." Furrowing his brow, the young man tossed his head back in what looked like frustration. "I mush-*hic*-seem like sum kin'a freak, huh?"

 

[Ryu Hime]

Suddenly the unexpected happens and all hell breaks loose. It was like the whole bar wanted in on the fight and it was only moments ago that they were all happy, peaceful and drunk. With Roku tranquility flying out the window he decides to do the same. Dodging punches and thrown objects he get to a nearby window, open’s it and climbs out. He owned that one man a drink but it will have to wait for another night because for now Roku was heading home before things get too out of hand.

[left topic; sorry for the wait. Forgot I didn't post this yet]

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

Bar fights. He hated bar fights; people always got hit over the head with chairs.

Makoto was loath to lower his parasol, as it was his only shield from flying bottles, chairs, and sometimes even tables, but there really was no way he was getting out of there with it up.

Especially not when his erstwhile drinking companion was plastered, by the looks and sounds of it.

He was also glad a second later he hadn't lowered it yet when a chair crashed into his parasol and splintered. Well, that sort of gave the game away that he wasn't just carrying it around for the sun on the surface, now didn't it.

For his part, he only glanced over Takeyashi neutrally.

Ah, one of the bloodline with multiple arms...well, that explains the cloak, not that anything really needs to. If he were one of his less open-minded relatives, he might have even caused some kind of a scene then and there over the fact, never mind how terrible an idea that was in an already actively brawling bar.

There were a couple of gawkers, of course, but they seemed to forget what they were looking at after a moment and go back to the brawl. The bartender had long since retreated somewhere out of sight, either ducked behind the bar or slid into a back room somewhere.

"Yes, do let's." Fortunately, he still had use of his faculties, even if he was feeling a little edge from all the drunken hostility climbing all over his emotional senses.

Takeyashi seemed more sober than he had been a moment earlier. Was that...worry? Embarrassment? He wasn't particularly familiar with either sensation coming through his empathy through the drunken haze of the bar.

Either way, it seemed more efficient to follow along and simply block behind them with his parasol, which caught several more flying objects (or, by this point, pieces of objects, mostly chairs).

Once they were outside, there were echoes of confusion, fear, curiosity, amusement ricocheting around, which he identified in rapid succession behind a slight headache. He still didn't do well with average crowds, and was glad he had someone to follow along.

Up? Well, he'd already blown that he was a ninja.

It may not be a good idea to leave him alone anyway, and it will help you to get away from the crowds.

Basically what I was thinking myself.

He folded and sheathed his parasol on his back, then charged his muscles with a jolt of chakra and leaped straight up, latching onto the building several metres in the air and scaling the rest rapidly.

Dejection, shame, slight edge of drunkenness.

Makoto approached Takeyashi warily, though not really out of any fear so much as a desire to not make that vaguely-wet depression sensation stronger.

"The first time I was here, I met a man who wore full armor, so that he had to assure me he was not a construct of some kind," he said, choosing his words carefully. "One of my traveling companions can't seem to help unnerving everyone within twenty metres with some strange aura and carries a talking snake. And one of my...childhood friends..." Yes, let's go with that, and skip the most alarming aspect of that oddity at the shrine, "can walk through walls. I don't know as if having a few extra limbs is all that odd, when it comes to ninja."

He hesitated before lightly sitting himself down across from Takeyashi, brushing a bit of dust off himself.

"Besides, I...probably am not supposed to advertise that I'm a ninja." He lifted his hands palm-up in a half-shrug. "Not widely as I just did, anyway. So we can call it a wash, if you like. Especially if we managed to get away from there early enough to avoid having to pay for anything that was broken."

Well, he could afford it, but he was pretty sure he wasn't generally supposed to admit to that...

 

[Kazu]

Still quite drunk, the man sat there listening to his new companion's words. The way he spoke was casual, and his attitude seemed unfazed. Did he really not care at all? Takeyashi had always grown up as some sort of a freak, so it was odd for him to meet people that didn't seem unnerved about it at first. He was right, though: there were definitely stranger shinobi out there. Managing a half smile after he rather violent hiccup, Takeyashi was beginning to slur his words considerably less. Perhaps the shocking event of being found out had sobered him up a bit? "I s'ppose you're right. Ninjas have too much t' worry 'bout as it is..." It was true, the young man had always felt like his fellow Sunagakure shinobi judged him less harshly. Perhaps it was due to the high danger life they led, or perhaps it was because of the military discipline that had been beaten into them. Maybe it wasn't either of those, and it was due to something else completely? Whatever the case, the Spiderling knew that the man in front of him was being sincere. Sighing loudly, the young man allowed a bit of a stronger grin make its way back onto his face. "Thanks, man. I guess we've both kinda of messed up 'ere." In a way, the two of them were very similar. Hiding secrets, trying to just enjoy their night as normal people. In the end, it seemed that neither of them were going to get their wish.

The two of them would sit up there, the sounds of the bar fight carrying quite clearly through the crisp night air. The young man was at a loss as to what to do next. The night seemed to simply stand still as this moment seemed to sink in. Eventually cutting through the stillness with nothing more than his voice, the young Spiderling decided that he would make a proposition. "Well, seein' as how I'm mostly ta blame for tha' ruckus, why don't I treat ya to sum food? Somethin' ta soak up all tha' booze?" Drunchies were a serious issue that should never be taken lightly. In this city, there was plenty to eat — the only questions you needed to figure out were what kind of food you wanted and which of the dozens of restaurants did you want to have it at? "We coul' do barbecue? I know a good ramen place down tha' street. Ooh, there's also a new dumpling shop down a couple blocks!" The idea of eating something tasty was now the only thing that was occupying the young man's mind. The moon was high in the sky, and he was having a really tough time figuring out which direction that was. It was the perfect time for food.

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

The wet sad feeling had stopped radiating so strongly from Takeyashi, and Makoto relaxed a bit. At the same time, he wondered why his drinking companion was so worried about this in the first place. Certainly the reactions of civilians were unfavourable, as they were to most visible differences in ninja with specific traits, but wouldn't other Sand nin be perfectly fine with them? Ninja often considered the utility of said traits as a reasonable trade off for their appearance being altered from the norm.

"I would expect you all have plenty to worry about, given that every time I have been in Sand things have always been...happening." He waved his hands a bit vaguely. "You all seem to keep busy."

Makoto really did not want to reveal what he had done the last time he was in Sand. Certainly it would be considered a good thing, but he wasn't really fond of the idea of people knowing he'd done something. As it was, it appeared his named hadn't been bandied about in whatever reports were made of the end of the Storm, at least, which was a relief.

He snorted lightly. "A touch, I suppose. Though I think it was better than the alternative of getting caught in a bar fight and potentially being either arrested or asked to pay for the damages." He rolled his eyes. "Not that it was either of us at fault."

He did contemplate the offer, though.

Food does help with preventing hangovers, that's true...and I don't know a ton of restaurants in this area...

"Sold. Although I wouldn't really blame you for the miniature riot going on down there." The people in the crowd from when they had exited the bar were mostly long gone, though a few had hung around to watch the bar fight from a relatively safe distance.

Relatively. There were sounds of breaking glass, of course, which meant that remaining outside the bar, even across the road, was probably not wise.

"I don't have a lot of food preferences," he added, standing up and brushing himself off. "As long as it's not some place serving exclusively tofu, I'll manage. Although it might be best to go for dumplings, since it's a little further away from the mess downstairs."

 

[Kazu]

Small talk. Takeyashi wasn't really the best at it, but he did his best. They talked about the village, about how the night was going, and different shops as they passed by while walking down the streets towards their destination. They'd left the bar and the fight behind them, and were probably a good ten streets down now. Takeyashi was beyond caring that he no longer had a robe to hide his arms — while shinobi were perfectly okay with his little genetic abnormality, he still got worried looks from regular civilians. To them, it didn't matter how useful the extra arms were in combat. It was just downright unnatural for them. "Get stuffed," he'd mutter under his breath as he caught the gaze of a group of worried people. With this much liquor in him, it was to be expected that he wouldn't give a rat's ass anymore. With the liberating feeling of apathy fresh in his mind, Takeyashi opened the doors to the restaurant he'd been honing in on: an All-You-Can-Eat barbecue place. "This, my friend, is a paradise on earth." Grabbing a table against one of the walls, the young Spiderling sat down in one of the chairs and began to massage his head a little bit. He could feel the hangover starting.

Ordering was a simple matter — lots of various meats to grill and some sake to stave off the headache. With the food on its way and a drink in hand, Takeyashi decided to bring up a new chain of conversation. "Okay, I've had some time to think about this whole night. You're going to need to explain something to me." The young man took a big gulp of his sake, as the headache was really starting to get to him. The best way to stave off a hangover was to keep being drunk, or at least that's what he'd been told. Swallowing, the young man continued. "You're from Moon Country, but you're not a civilian. That alone is kind of weird." Takeyashi wasn't the cleverest of people. He was the kind of person to trust his gut over his brain, but every so often he fell back onto his wits. When he did, he usually was able to come up with some good ideas. "You said you were here for the festivities? Are you on a vacation? If you are, why are you with other ninjas?" Another sip of sake, finishing the glass. The Spiderling moved to pour himself another glass, waiting to see if the man responded. Takeyashi felt like he was onto something here.

"You're here on a mission, aren't you? What's your goal?" As he finished his sentence, the waiter brought out the plate of meats. A quick smile of thanks, and then the young man's attention was trained back on the foreigner before him. He began grilling meats without looking away from his dinner companion. "Unless you're doing something that's a threat to the village, I really don't care what it is you're doing. Hell, I might even tag along if it's something fun enough." Takeyashi's morals were pretty loose. With the exception of defending his village, the young man's morals fluctuated quite a bit from situation to situation. He recalled the time he poisoned a civilian kid, because he thought the kid would ID him when an assassination mission went south. There was that other time he was asked to kidnap the Daimyo's daughter, and drugged her in the process. The list went on. Suffice to say, he was no stranger to shady dealings. "So, what's the mission then? Recon? Infiltration? Assassination?"

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

The crowds were a blend of worry, anxiety, fear, disdain whenever people spotted Takeyashi. That on top of the usual in-a-city morass of emotions scraped at Makoto's senses and had him gritting his teeth. He also didn't see any need to enlighten his new friend on the extra details his empathy picked up; it would only be rude and was definitely unnecessary.

He tentatively followed Takeyashi into the restaurant, then relaxed as a seat near the wall was claimed. Far enough away from others that he could at least try to filter his empathy, at least.

"You should probably be getting water if you don't want a hangover," he said, but it was with a restrained sort of amusement rather than any kind of reproval or scolding. For his part, he ordered a nonalcoholic mixed drink; he didn't pay attention to exactly what other than that it was sugary. And seeing as this was a place that probably would have tossed out anyone who even uttered the word 'tofu,' an attitude he was fine with, he picked randomly there too--just something grilled rare, thanks.

...Maybe there was a reason he was the short one in the family.

Makoto raised an eyebrow in an attempt to play it cool, but in truth he had blown his cover earlier half-deliberately. There was no point in pretending, as far as he saw it, and this time around he hadn't actually been ordered to. And he disliked outright lying, not so much as a matter of principle, but because it was annoying to waste brainpower on keeping your story straight when you could just either admit to things or not tell them in the first place.

That Takeyashi had picked it up while half-drunk spoke volumes of his own cleverness, and meant he could come at least partially clean.

"You know, or maybe you don't, that some countries and territories without official ninja villages in their jurisdiction maintain ninja," Makoto began casually. "Moon is one of those. Nothing comparable to Sand, of course, or any of the major villages in any way. Ninja just work better as law enforcement, as far as many are concerned. So that's what we are, generally speaking. Although one of my companions is actually from Mist in the first place, from before the freeze." He shrugged loosely. "We are still a civilian village, not a hidden one."

Technically true; they were not recognized as a ninja village and had never applied to be. Though, many would likely say that since they had training facilities, and the level of involvement of ninja that they did (not that he intended to mention that), they would qualify well enough.

But that was aside from the point, really. That wasn't the party line.

He barely glanced at the waitress except to stop speaking when she was in hearing range, and tilt his head to her when she set the plates down.

"Nothing so sinister as that, no," he said, swirling his drink in his glass. "Moon has no desire to earn the wrath of a much larger and more powerful territory. Quite the opposite, actually. If, in the course of my being here for the upcoming wedding--which we received an invitation for--something shady happens, I and my team are to do what we can to assist Sand, and come down on your side of things."

That part, at least, was the plain, unvarnished truth.

"As such," he added as an after thought, picking up his fork and knife and glancing down to note he'd ordered some manner of steak, "this is technically a diplomatic mission more than anything. Not that I expect things to stay quiet around here. Last time I was here...well, things happened, and I suppose they were certainly to the good, but they were definitely not quiet."

He quirked an eyebrow again, seemingly amused by the offer.

"I'm supposed to maintain cordial relations with the locals. I would call this night a success and a help based on that." The last mission had certainly been recon, though. "And if I can dig up any more intel on this Cabal that I heard about last time and potentially do anything to hinder them, I am supposed to do that--unofficially, of course. But by your standards? I'm afraid our missions probably tend to seem fairly lightweight."

It shouldn't be surprising that a place with Moon's reputation would have a diplomatic mission of sorts here. The unstated part that Takeyashi might or might not pick up on, depending on how much more drunk he got, was that they had sent ninja because they had considered it likely there would be trouble for Sand at or before the wedding.

Or they were paranoid. He didn't know himself. Either was a good enough guess, really.

 

[Kazu]

Takeyashi listened as the man spoke of his home country, it's small but necessary military force, and many other geo-political issues with much passion and knowledge. However, the young spiderling, while interested, was dealing with another problem altogether. His head was absolutely throbbing right now. He'd gotten through his first cup of sake, but it hadn't quite made its way into his system. This hangover was still pretty killer. He'd have to fight through the pain, and muster all of his willpower into focusing on the matter at hand. The bottom line to this whole part: still a civilian village, not a hidden one.

And then, a tempting development. The man spoke of wishing to be on Sand's side in the event that events were to unfold badly in future. This was a tantalizing, and yet devious, offer. Something flared up inside Takeyashi, like a sixth sense. Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but something bothered him about what the man had just said. He ignored it, choosing to continue to focus on what the man was saying. "Well, that's very neighborly of you. Always happy to get more support these days!" The young spiderling had a look in his eye, though. He was beginning to piece the puzzle together. "Well, I'm sure whatever little kerfuffle you got yourself into is more than excusable."

A smile, and the spiderling began to cut at his meat. It was just a bit bloody, exactly how he loved it. He used one pair of arms to cut the food, and another to eat with. It was interesting to see, but ultimately of little value to the conversation they were having. His eyes flicked back to the man as he chewed his food, a small dribble of blood escaping his lips. "I would agree with you. Tonight was quite the success. I believe we've both learned some interesting information." A raised eyebrow at the request for information on the Cabal. "Why the interest? I can maybe help as much as I can, but I don't quite get what for?" Of course he did. He needed to play the part, though. He didn't want to let off how much he was onto. Before him laid a double edged sword, that both had the power to help and hinder. He prayed to use it well.

"Don't worry, whatever support you guys can survive is appreciated. Doubt we'll ever need it, though! Sunagakure is pretty safe from any outside threats. Believe me, this city has been through a lot." Yeah, except for the fact that what this guy was up to was big trouble. If a civilian village decided to send its top military shinobi to a land where previously there were no signs of turmoil, and then immediately offer to defend them if anything were to happen for no particular reason, wouldn't that be a little strange? Of course it is. They know something that he didn't. And that could only mean bad things for Sunagakure. Takeyashi just now realized what it is he'd stumbled into, and knew that he couldn't waste this opportunity. He was possibly in the middle of one of the largest events to shape Sunagakure's history. He didn't want to screw anything up.

And you know how you don't tip people involved in a grand plot off to knowing that you know about their plot? You pretend like you don't know anything about it.

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

The problem with being an empath, aside from the many and varied other problems, was that it told you what people were feeling but not what they were thinking. To someone like Makoto for whom thoughts were infinitely more important than feelings, this was beyond frustrating. He had to guess at what people were thinking based on what they were feeling.

And when it felt like he'd walked into the middle of a spy drama manga, that was even more frustrating. At least he could keep his own emotions off his face; there were at least minor advantages to having a family that raised you not to bother other people with your feelings.

So the flare of suspicion, curiosity (at least, that's what he thought those were; he didn't have a whole lot of experience picking up on the first) didn't make him so much as pause from his meal.

"It's to our advantage to appear friendly," Makoto said evenly. "For political reasons. Moon doesn't want to ruin our historic neutrality, you see." Even if we might be more disposed to be friendly to Sand that Wind, he very carefully did not say.

He really didn't want to bring up the whole Storm God mission. If Sand hadn't publicized the names of the people involved, then there was no point saying anything. He didn't want to attract attention for that. Didn't want anyone's impressions of him to be coloured by it. He was vaguely aware it could sound shady to not bring it up, as if whatever he had done last time was damaging as opposed to helpful, but even that rational thought wasn't enough to make him bring it up.

As for his curiosity on the Cabal...well.

Part of it was indeed his need to collect intel, and part of it was because he felt as though that the presence of anyone assisting Sand would attract their attention and he would rather not be ambushed by them. And he'd already cemented himself on Sand's side, previously.

"Prudence, mostly," he said, selecting the more dominant of the two reasons. "It is undoubtedly something of interest to my superiors back home, but mostly I don't want to run into them and have no idea what they're about. Which is looking like a possibility the more I'm here. Especially if I meddle with any of their plans by accident."

By accident.

Yeah, it probably wouldn't be an accident if he did.

He was carefully deliberating what to say and what not to say to those sharp flares of suspicion that were totally at odds with what Takeyashi was actually saying around his bites of steak. Obviously, he didn't want to let on that he knew that his new friend suspected something was up. But when he started thinking about the 'I know that you know that I know' and so on, it just gave him the beginnings of a headache, so he stopped. Easier to focus on the doing than to work out the tangled labyrinth of spy drama. He really had no idea how Saito or any of their other spies ever did it.

Of course, he didn't know what Takeyashi was suspicious of, which was a problem. It could have been him, or his mission, or someone he could see out of his peripheral vision or something. That was the annoying part of empathy.

The fact that he wasn't, personally, up to anything damaging to Sand was of little consequence.

"Oh, I'm sure. It's a lot more hectic here than what I'm used to." Makoto gave a thin smile as he absently carved up the vegetables on his plate. "But sometimes an outside perspective can be helpful, and your enemies might not suspect particular angles of aid. I'm not only here because I've been here before, after all. Obviously a civilian village doesn't have quite the equal of your branch's training, but let's just say I'm used to this type of assignment."

Wardens were...technically the same as ANBU in a lot more ways than just the veneer, after all.

Not that he ought to say that outright, but, well. There was no reason not to hint at it. He really, really doubted Takeyashi was actually in with the Cabal, which would be the only danger here.

 

[Kazu]

"By accident. Of course." Takeyashi mused as he ate his food, the meat melting in his mouth every time he brought his teeth down to chew. The six-armed shinobi picked up the napkin next to him and wiped at his mouth, cleaning up any small bits of juices that might have collected around his lips. His eyes looked kind and understanding, and yet the fact that his gaze hadn't wavered in a few minutes might have been a tad disconcerting. "I wouldn't recommend interacting with the Cabal. They're criminals, and fiends. The whole village would be better off if they'd all just drop dead." Takeyashi didn't like terrorist groups that threatened the safety of his village. His vehemence wasn't an uncommon emotion among the citizens of the village, especially considering how many people had been killed over the years during these Cabal attacks. This level of danger was precisely why it was so odd that this stranger seemed so nonchalant about avoiding them. Think about it — an ordinary civilian wouldn't be able to do anything to avoid the Cabal even if they wanted to. The terrorist group was more like a natural disaster than an avoidable occurrence. Even shinobi up to a Jounin level were in danger if specific members of the Cabal were to show up.

If this foreigner was so calm about the idea of being able to avoid the Cabal, then they must be pretty confident in their abilities to anticipate and escape from any potential Cabal attacks. That would put his skill level closer to the Cabal's than to a typical shinobi. Takeyashi was extremely interested in this, which made his suspicions about this man even more intense. Too bad for the young man that he didn't know about his newly made friend's empathetic nature. It might have been better to not help the man hone in on what it was Takeyashi was reacting to.

"Of course. Even as a civilian village, you'd have to have at least basic training for shinobi. If our village manages to find anything out, I'd be more than happy to pass the information along. Gotta protect our allies, after all!" Play innocent. Make the foreigner feel that the young man was blissfully unaware of his slip-ups. Of course, the more he inwardly focused on these thoughts, the more of an emotional response he would give off. Takeyashi was woefully unprepared to be talking with a natural interrogator, his ignorance of his friend's abilities playing directly into Makoto's favor. "I'll find you if anything comes up. Which inn are you staying at?" Takeyashi needed to gather some more intel about these people. Some digging was required, and he wasn't going to be able to do anything useful with this information unless he got out and started asking questions with the village officials. The spiderling began to fish around in his pockets for enough money to cover his meal, then left it on the table. "Makoto, it was great meeting you. Let's meet up at the festival or something, yeah? If you'll excuse me, I think I need to go lie down..." As he got up, the young man would rub his temples with one set of arms — the headache was really beginning to set in, and the pain was getting pretty heavy.

His friend would surely understand. Besides, they both had a lot to process right now.

[ooc: Topic Left unless stopped.]

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

Makoto raised an eyebrow to the first, and said nothing. He'd not made any pretense of the air quotes not being obvious, after all. And if Takeyashi didn't draw from that that he'd already done some meddling, well, he didn't need to. He probably didn't have the base information to do that with, though it might not be difficult to come by, with the right avenue of research and potentially connections. If he were truly curious, or if he knew Sousuke or Katsuo well enough to know of their involvement and question them, should his suspicions head off in the correct direction.

But clearly this was a subject that Takeyashi was passionate on, quite firmly set. There was no trace of deception, no wavering. If the entirety of the organization called The Cabal were disbanded, or should happen to all drop dead, it was clear that at least one person in Sand--probably a lot more than one, actually--would be much happier for it.

If they were prone to essaying things like the Storm God, he might even be one of them.

(From a certain point of view, his family could in some ways be considered criminals. Not just the new parts of it, either. But he didn't think they really classed as fiends; though that was certainly true of some of Moon's government. Maybe it wasn't anything worse than what you'd hear some of the shrine speak of his clan, or vice versa--and not all of that would be true, either. But some would, enough would, that he didn't feel inclined to add too much salt to what Takeyashi said.)

"I'll keep that in mind," he said in a light tone. "I'll be sure not to hold back if I run into one, then."

No need to say that he didn't hold back, in cunning or strength depending as the situation called, against anyone he considered an opponent.

He didn't let any bit of his expression slip in response to the other man's emotions. He truly wasn't treating Takeyashi as an enemy, or even really an opponent--he simply couldn't avoid picking some things up.

And there was still suspicion. More of it. Definitely, given the bent of the conversation, directed at him. Makoto filed that one away; there was no point in announcing he was aware of it.

"I'm glad to hear it. In general, if I find anything out myself, I will of course pass the information along to someone within Sand's leadership." It wasn't Takeyashi's fault he was dealing with an empath, much less one whose family specifically trained their children not to externally emote much, to the point where many of them felt doing so was a weakness. "And you, the next time we meet after I acquire it."

He tilted his head thoughtfully and rattled off the name of the inn where he was staying--a relatively nice one in this same district, not quite posh but within sneezing distance of the definition of it.

"My teammates are named Kiyomizu Sheimi and Shoukyou Tatsuya; if I am not present, you can ask for one of them and they can contact me more directly." That wouldn't be harmful to tell him--Sheimi was, like him, in good standing in Moon's Wardens, if he had any means of checking such, and Tatsuya was a former Sennin of Mist--something they were more likely to be able to find out. They'd all entered legally, and if Takeyashi did do some digging, he might find out about Makoto's involvement in the mission to disrupt the Maelstrom.

A peace offering, of sorts, too. Takeyashi was unlikely to realize just how much Makoto had gleaned here; it was only fair to set him down the path to find out some things of his own.

"Likewise. If all goes well, I'll see you there." He paused, and added, with some consideration, "you might want to grab a drink of water before lying down though, if you don't want a hangover too difficult to function on in the morning."

He'd wait until after Takeyashi left to pay his own bill and add a tip, then stroll out into the night air, heading back toward his hotel.

That was illuminating. Though his research won't dig up anything particularly suspicious on me...it'll be interesting to see how he reacts next time we meet.

[Topic Left]