Here Comes the Sun [Requesting Exit]

[Shiruko Makoto]

All told, Makoto felt he'd spent enough time in Sand.

He didn't have anything against the people--no more than he did against any general sample of people--but the climate was unforgivable. If he spent too much longer in the desert, he was fairly sure he'd dry up and blow away, never mind all the water he'd been drinking. The storm may have been gone now, but to someone raised in a humid climate the desert wasn't that much more hospitable.

Besides, he'd accomplished his mission and then some. He knew, or could put together, all the information his mission required. He'd fostered good will with the locals by assisting in dispersing the Storm. And he hadn't let anyone know where he was from, save a distant relation (which didn't count). All told, he felt he'd done reasonably well for someone who'd never put much stock in their ability to talk to people.

And...well, never mind the personal revelations, either. He could deal with those when he was somewhere with a sensible idea of weather and what it should be. Not to mention people he was mad at within hitting range.

So it was that with a full stock of water bottles in his pack, parasol slung over his shoulder for deployment when he got into the desert, and his scarf hung loosely around his neck in case a regular sandstorm kicked up and he needed to cover his nose and mouth he hung around waiting to be let out.

"Excuse me," he called as he approached. "Any Sand nin around capable of letting a traveler back out? I'd appreciate it."

It would be faster and was much less work to be let out, after all. Never mind the trills in his head pleased with his politeness.

 

[Toraono Kuro]

Kuro's armored masked aspect Kyojin Kuro just happened to be in the vicinity when the traveler requested permission to leave instead of just pushing the doors open and making his own way. It had been going on since the Cabal attacks had decimated the ranks of Suna's Anbu corps leaving the Toraono Clan fully responsible for border security. A task that Kuro himself had yet to fully commit himself to due to all that had transpired but needless to say he was getting to it. Plans were underway to reinforce Suna's borders in full. Kyojin Kuro stood at seven feet and weighed in at four hundred and fifty pounds. He wore a sand camouflage pattern heavy armor made of Takahashi fire-forged steel with matte-black transformation seals allowing it to switch from desert colors to pitch black dependent on Kuro’s vocal command or four tap sonic patterned code along his right thigh plate. Kyojin Kuro wore a matching belt and sheath around his waist where he had sheathed a pair of blade attachments for his battle gauntlets. Kyojin Kuro wore his battle pouch atop the belt it was a simple lizard leather pouch but easily camouflaged by rubbing it with sand or crushed stone if ever necessary just above his right hip. Kyojin Kuro wore his leg sheath on the interior of his left armored thigh just atop his silk gi shorts. A convenient slot in the multi-folded steel of his left thigh armor allowed Kyojin Kuro full access to his items without showing exactly where it was till he motioned to grab it. Securing his Takahashi forged battle guards and lower leggings were Kyojin Kuro’s enhanced runic terran sealed leather wraps for his hands, forearms, shins and feet. Kyojin Kuro had wrapped his armored tail around his belt making it appear that Kuro wore a belt of armor resembling hand-sized reinforced double blades. Kyojin Kuro wore his mane of silver hair in tight war braids in ancient ceremonial fashion making his oxen horns much more pronounced but also making him look like a serious battle veteran, massive chakra gems implanted into his flesh and endoskeletal structure stood out on the back of his hands. The chakra gem in his left hand was emerald green with a spiral of a star in its center, if you looked at it closely and long enough one could see where it interfaced with the flesh and bone with tiny bio crystal circuits. The chakra gem in his right hand was ruby red with a six point star in its center, this one also interfaced with his flesh and bone with tiny bio crystal circuits. These carmot stones allowed Kuro to dramatically pulse chakra throughout this body which was now one of the keys to his defensive capabilities. It also allowed him to control his metabolic rate at a degree he had never believed was possible. His dark flesh was runed with runic terran seals and tattoos. His horns looked as if they were part of his armor along with his gems but the discerning eye would know that they were part of this giant warrior's body. His dark reinforced helmet head his facial features completely but it was quite easy to see he was from the Toraono Clan. Holding out a Return Visa to him he placed a Toraono Clan seal upon it so that he might return to Sunagakure at anytime as a recognized friend of Sunagakure. "You are free to pass from our lands and return as a welcome friend at any time. This seal carries the mark of the Toraono Clan, may your journey be safe."<i></i> Quietly and quickly for a monster his size he left and went back to monitoring the dojo.


Exit granted

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

Makoto was really starting to wonder why every single guy in Sand seemed to be a hulking armored giant of some kind or another. It was enough to give him a complex about his height--well, more of one.

He was also not really expecting the missive he was handed, though. He managed to keep himself from gaping, barely, not sure if this was given in general to travelers who didn't break things or because he was involved in the Sandstorm mission. Either way, it served even better for his purposes than just claiming he'd done some things. This was actual proof that he had not, in fact, started a diplomatic incident.

(In fairness--that had been a very near thing at the bar that one time, but it was not really his fault.)

He accepted the seal gracefully, despite the fact he was grinning inside. Hell, he'd earned it either way.

"Thank you very much," he said sincerely. "I'm glad I was able to be of some help while I was here."

The phoenix trilled in approval in his head again, whether at his grace in accepting the seal or because of what he'd done to earn it, he didn't know. This he tried to respond to nicely as well by not shutting the bird out of his thoughts or ignoring it.

Instead he let the internal phoenix song wash over him as he stepped out into the desert and mentally plotted a course back to the port, waving backward before tucking the seal into his pack and letting his feet carry him out into the burning sands.

[Topic Left; 30 min to OV]