Eagle's Pirch, Soldier's Resolve

[Moyamaru]

Look at them, blissfully unaware of the watchful eyes that constantly insured that they had a conflict free place to eat, sleep, and do whatever platonic activities their minds had set upon for each individual day. The life of the seen unseen was bittersweet and psychologically demanding, a life of secrets and seclusion for those who opted to become Anbu. While they were on the same tier as Guardians, those within Anbu were much more in Kanki's eyes, they experienced much more. No one knew their face, some purposely altered their appearances to become ghost and even more there were more than a few Anbu agents whom had families that were under the assumption they had died. Disappearing from records and personal relations, the life of the eternal stalker and hunter and in his mind, the true Black Ops of the Village.

Kanki leaned his backside against the structures physical wall, a pillar that was constructed to support the physical spectacle that was the Terrace's glass sections which allowed anyone who had access the ability to peer over the village. It was a place Kanki frequented and although named after the Guardian ranks, it was not uncommon for an Anbu Agent to use such a place as a stress reliever or to receive mental assurance. He watched, the village though cloaked in the darkness remained somewhat illuminated thanks to primitive lighting technology and the time tested flame wicks of lanterns and candles. Citizens moved through the streets, though the number who undertook to the cobblestone pathways were far from the bustling traffic that followed the rays of the sun. He was in a strange position, a youth whom grew up far outside the reaches of this countries eyes upon the frozen plains of ice and snow, yet here he stood serving as their protector from any and all dangers.

"Only a matter of time...that's what I keep telling myself.", was what he spoke in a voice that was deeper than his natural one. Muffled and miscued by the mere mechanics of wearing a mask that enclosed his entire facial appearance.

His appearance was not uncommon given his rank, a blank marking-less mask with a black cloak that completely made finding out details about his body type and buildup impossible. The sleeves dangled freely, a trained eye understanding that sleeve that had the arms pulled in would not dangle flat in such a way. His body naturally caused the glass around him to frost up slightly, the enclosed spaces internal temperature far lower than the outsides. Remaining motionless even to natural muscle movements such as blinks or swallows, his body did not respond. He was a statue in the shadow of the room, solemnly contemplating his purpose, his plans, and his end game.

 

[Inuzuka Junko]

[legend="Post Torture Stress Relief"]
Junko’s footsteps echoed through the near lifeless corridors as she made her way up from the shadowy bowels of the shrine known as the Onyxian Sanctum. A place that holds the most villainous and traitorous beings that commit crimes against Stone and its people; The red headed girl was somewhat of a celebrity within the sanctum, those lucky enough to have been spared her methods pass stories through the darkness to other inmates, most believe she has some kind of demonic being inside of her, controlling her every breath; Though if any were to bring it up in her presence they’d soon be made silent. As she wandered through the corridors she could be seen wiping at and cleaning blood off of her hands and arms which were bare up to the shoulder save for a pair of black, padded and fingerless gloves. Her attire as per usual consisted of her sentinels armour that consisted of a black under-vest and a grey sleeveless jacket atop it, aside from this she wore a pair of black pants and boots which was normal among the ranks. Her mask was probably the first thing anyone would notice, shaped like a canines face and with to red marking around each eye and the top, there was then crimson blood splatters all over though they seemed to be a product of whatever she had been doing previously.

After spending time down in the dungeons there were few things the girl could do to relax herself, exercise was the most obvious path and there were always the springs but she was aware that perhaps she’d visited the waters a little much recently and needed a break from it before she ended up cooking herself. Today would be different; she’d been there a few times and found it to be relaxing in its own way and would help her wind down from the bloodlust she tended to feel after a particularly disappointing battle. The terrace was truly a marvel and believed by most to be the most beautiful place in the village and she couldn’t really argue against that, though upon entering she was surprised to see another already there and not only that, frosting up the area around him and seemingly speaking to himself, Junko would move into the room silently though not enough to go undetected as that was not her goal, she would come to the centre of the room and gaze down upon the village. “What is it that you are waiting for, trainee?” She would speak, her voice monotone as it generally tended to be when she donned her mask. The drop in the areas temperature didn’t bother her all that much; in fact she welcomed the chill as it cooled down her muscles and chipped away at her adrenaline.

[Topic Entered~]
[MFT - 478]
[/legend]

 

[Moyamaru]

[legend="The Cold One Lurks"]
His icy blue gaze peered through the portholes of his mask momentarily illuminated by the moonlight through the glass terrace, their gaze carried with them a stare which Junko had seen many times. He had the eyes of someone who was capable of drowning out their humanity in the guise of performing their obligation to the village and as such had seen and done things in pursuit of this. Equally so his gaze did not show acknowledgement of anything out of the ordinary towards Junko not admiration or disgust just a sense of knowing that another living figure was in the same general space. Blood was something that he passively knew was on her mask, the smell was what drew this distinction firstly because he was a trained hunter and had known the iron based scent of blood since a youth. The splattered pattern on her mask just served as mental confirmation to this but nevermore than that as it neither brought questions to his mind neither made him think anything more or less of her. He exhaled calmly and without a sound, the chilled environment allowing for their breath to be seen although they wore masks...

"Answers. We are the shadows behind the guardians, outcasts within a dark world tasked with doing things not even the Guardians would do openly. Whereas they feel the need to reveal themselves to be seen to the village as heroes in the dark....we prefer to stay secluded and unknown in our tasks, mentally locking our personalities up into safe boxes that shall never be opened even among the most heaviest of pressures. Question is....why? Why does our choice to do our job in the effective manner without fanfare or the public knowing who we are make us lesser than the Guardian's? Is it because many of us are technically refugees from foreign countries? If so...does our positions only mean that they actually question our reason and resolve, secretly belittling us....I wonder..."

He spoke as cold and monotone as the frost on the glass...he spoke what was on his mind and nothing more.
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[Inuzuka Junko]

[legend="Post Torture Stress Relief"]
The ANBU girl would turn to face the male, folding her arms beneath her bosom and sighing softly behind the mask as she listened to his words. It wasn’t as though she didn’t feel the same way as him though, the Guardians seemed to be doing the jobs that should fall to the main branch MilPol forces and they received admiration and fame for it. In the meantime these men and women, putting their lives on the line protecting the village from the shadows, taking people and organizations out before the populous even knows of their existence. “Perhaps they are unable to completely disconnect themselves, perhaps they aren’t willing to do certain things that are asked of one in our position… but if I had to guess, I’d say they’re scared…” She would say calmly as she began to pace around the room, looking down at the village below. “Scared of being feared… hated, outcasts from the very people they’re sworn to protect.” She’d then turn to look at the male and start to slowly move to him. “After all, if you were to kill a man planning to rebel against the Kage, you would do it without a moment’s hesitation, correct? But then what of that man’s parents, children, lover? If it is proven they had nothing to do with the rebellion would they then not despise you?” She would chuckle softly and come to a stop half a dozen or so feet away from Kanki. “Some people don’t have the mental capacity for such things, so it falls to us. The guardians? Simply an extension of the main branch that’ve had special training and seek to hide from their own fear.”

The woman would stand silent for a moment and start to peel off her gloves, beneath were blood stained bandages however it was obviously not from an outside source. “It is a difficult topic to speak on though, we have out opinion and perhaps a few scraps of facts we have picked up along the way.” This was a topic Junko had thought on in great detail herself. Sure she had met with plenty of strong and skilled guardians and wouldn’t go so far as to call them glory hounds since they protect the village just as passionately; it was just strange, why have these two groups in the same branch? The medics have something similar but their made sense, medics and shamans, those who prepare the old way and those who don’t. When it came to ANBU and Guardians though, they were expected to do the same jobs, how did that make sense? Leave the undesirable crap to the ANBU seemed to be the attitude the current heads of the village, frustrating. “Perhaps this is something that I can change in the future…” She would say quietly as an afterthought, it was not impossible that the woman had big dreams after all.

[MFT - 486]
[/legend]

 

[Moyamaru]

[legend="The Cold One Lurks"]
His gaze remained looking expressionless throughout it all, her speech and her movements were all things he absorbed subconsciously but never allowed to show physically. She had made some relevant points for sure but as a human he still retained the core of his fledgling understanding of what it meant to be an expendable pawn in the grand scheme of things. His fingertips reached at the cloak he was wearing before pulling off the article of clothing, revealing his anbu armor that was the standard attire beneath. What was not standard however was the fact that covering his visible skin from his collarbone area around his entire torso was one intricately designed tattoo in azure blue ink. The tattoo was designed with tribal images and markings all of which flowed smoothly along his skin. This ink was special as well as it was reactive to the temperature and as his body was always on the precipice of freezing the ink actually seemed to glow in the dimly lit area.

"What made you do all this, join a branch...no join a military force knowing that in doing so makes your life expendable?", his question was one he was asking himself as well but as he spoke his breath could be visible as the temperature finally stabilized around freezing point.
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