Ah, the smell of a classroom.
Migoya leant casually back against the curved desk behind him, looking down at the teacher’s desk, placed in front of a now blank blackboard. It was this very seat so many years ago that he had first started on his path to becoming a shinobi, though the academy had been rebuilt several times in the interim.
A small wooden mannequin, ‘Mikki’, would sit at that teachers desk, not moving but seeming to scan the room for possible danger. Arranged neatly on the desk in front of the puppet were various powders, unguents, dyes, clay, wigs and other paraphernalia suggesting the topic of today's lesson.
Disguise.
Several different types of clothing accompanied those on the table, hanging up on movable trolleys like some sort of fashion show. The clothing varied in size and shape, offering a wide variety of couture for the choosy academy student.
Migoya stretched, then rocked to his feet, slowly walking down the couple of steps to slowly walk and eventually lean against the teachers desk. It was strange that he was going to be taking a class, especially since most of the people in the village had no idea who he was.
Reaching lazily over to a red wig, Migoya smirked. He had asked his clan mates to provide some excess disguises and costumes from their own stores, and it looked like they had done exactly that. They weren't the best, but they would do.
A tanned hand, covered by black fingerless gloves, ran through silky black hair as Migoya sat on the desk, awaiting the arrival of the students. He was dressed simply in the standard Chuunin Flak Jacket, covering the stock blue uniform of a shinobi of the Hidden Village in the Leaves. On one arm his forehead protector was tied, accompanied on the other by a strange strip of white material, similar to a bandage. His face, seemingly reddened by staying out in the sun too long, carried a mirthful expression but his deep brown eyes did not convey the same emotion.
“Well Mikki - it is a risk, but hopefully one that will pay off for the benefit of the village”, Migoya seemed to respond to no-one in particular. A moment of silence followed. “Because they need us…”
With this, Migoya would walk over to the chalkboard and write in thick, white words, before placing the chalk down and sitting at the desk, Mikki clamoring up to rest on his shoulder.
WC - 422/1500
Migoya leant casually back against the curved desk behind him, looking down at the teacher’s desk, placed in front of a now blank blackboard. It was this very seat so many years ago that he had first started on his path to becoming a shinobi, though the academy had been rebuilt several times in the interim.
A small wooden mannequin, ‘Mikki’, would sit at that teachers desk, not moving but seeming to scan the room for possible danger. Arranged neatly on the desk in front of the puppet were various powders, unguents, dyes, clay, wigs and other paraphernalia suggesting the topic of today's lesson.
Disguise.
Several different types of clothing accompanied those on the table, hanging up on movable trolleys like some sort of fashion show. The clothing varied in size and shape, offering a wide variety of couture for the choosy academy student.
Migoya stretched, then rocked to his feet, slowly walking down the couple of steps to slowly walk and eventually lean against the teachers desk. It was strange that he was going to be taking a class, especially since most of the people in the village had no idea who he was.
Reaching lazily over to a red wig, Migoya smirked. He had asked his clan mates to provide some excess disguises and costumes from their own stores, and it looked like they had done exactly that. They weren't the best, but they would do.
A tanned hand, covered by black fingerless gloves, ran through silky black hair as Migoya sat on the desk, awaiting the arrival of the students. He was dressed simply in the standard Chuunin Flak Jacket, covering the stock blue uniform of a shinobi of the Hidden Village in the Leaves. On one arm his forehead protector was tied, accompanied on the other by a strange strip of white material, similar to a bandage. His face, seemingly reddened by staying out in the sun too long, carried a mirthful expression but his deep brown eyes did not convey the same emotion.
“Well Mikki - it is a risk, but hopefully one that will pay off for the benefit of the village”, Migoya seemed to respond to no-one in particular. A moment of silence followed. “Because they need us…”
With this, Migoya would walk over to the chalkboard and write in thick, white words, before placing the chalk down and sitting at the desk, Mikki clamoring up to rest on his shoulder.
<i></i>‘Welcome to Disguise - an art of survival’
WC - 422/1500