Out for a Drink [Open]

[Shiruko Makoto]

Sand was...interesting.

Some of this was due to the fact Makoto had never been in a shinobi village before, so he had no idea what one in top shape was supposed to look like. He was guessing this wasn't it, as generally people seemed to move with purpose toward whatever they were doing, and always seemed to be moving to do something. He had been reluctant to step in to help, but it honestly seemed like the locals had things fairly well under control.

So what in blue blazes am I supposed to do? In this mess, I'm certain everyone of note is busy. He could ask someone exactly what had gone down, he supposed. Any random Sand nin would likely know about this.

Assuming he could find one who wasn't busy.

Maybe the local watering hole will have a few people who know what's going on...

Strictly speaking, Makoto was not a barfly. Not at all. In fact, he rarely drank, since he wasn't fond of losing control and he had the worst alcohol tolerance of anyone he knew. (Which was still quite high--it was just unnerving to be the only one tipsy in the room, no matter how many shots deep you were when that happened.) But also strictly speaking, alcohol loosened lips and bars were always open, especially in troubling times.

'When it looked like several sections of town had exploded not all that long ago' seemed to count as 'troubling times.' If he was any judge of it.

So he was picking through the most well-traveled, friendly looking area he'd yet come across, not all that far from the hotel he was staying at. Really, it was actually quite a nice district. Sand nin also didn't have to deal with much of the harshness of the outside desert, including the sun it seemed--which was a big plus. But no one went to a bar during the day, so he had waited until evening to make his little jaunt. It wasn't that cold out, the underground locale seeming to protect from the insane heights and lows of temperature in the desert.

Defensible and comfortable both. Shame there's not much of a view and they're about a million miles away from open water.

He finally located a place that looked like a nice spot for a drink, and maybe an evening snack. He wasn't visibly armed, his parasol not obviously a weapon and strapped across his back and rolled up besides, so it wasn't that hard to get. With a mental shrug, he made his way past the odd-looking cactus by the entrance (local affectation? It'd do better than a normal potted plant for sure) to sit at the bar.

"A glass of something local please," he told the bartender. "It's my first time here."

He could always attempt to find someone more official to talk to if this didn't work, and no one local joined him.

 

[Michi]

Continuation from HERE

Known as delirium tremors, characterized by nausea, vomiting, delirium, sensory illusions, tremors that could progress to seizures, diaphoresis, hypertension, fever and potentially fatal consequences. A withdrawal syndrome associated commonly with alcoholics, but it can also be seen in those that frequently utilize benzodiazepines for a period of time in sufficient quantities. It is a terrible experience to do without something your body needs regardless of the reason, be it addiction or physical necessity, as the reasons were irrelevant. The course of this syndrome can be anywhere from a matter of days to a protracted syndrome that could last for months if someone was truly unfortunate. The treatment is simple for such a condition, resume his medication or provide him with a bandage with a similar 'medication.' Drugs are of limited quantity and of questionable quality at this point, most being relegated to those in acute need and fostering what would be considered an addiction and to an outsider for that matter would likely not bode well and depending on the gravity of his need they might not have the quantity sufficient to fulfill his need. However, there was a simple and almost eloquent solution - there is one thing every city has in excess: booze. A strong drink, or a dozen if necessary would sate his need and be something he could refill without a medic to verify his dependence. Until this point was proven, she would likely look the part of a mad-woman or a fool. Neither bothered her, she made a terrible shinobi and an even worse medic.

"I need some absinthe" Shiori announced as she pushed through the door of a particularly active bar. Absinthe, sometimes regarded as a hallucinogen but such statements have been refuted but the false sentiment remains has minimized the use of the potent drink in most establishments. This being an exception. There were properties that made this specific drink choice more effective than others, one being the fact that some of the herbs distilled in the drink act as stimulants to help maintain a sense of lucid drunkenness rather than diminishing the armored man into a stupor. Second, absinthe is a strong drink commonly diluted but not necessarily. The amount necessary to repair this stranger, IF her theory was correct could be massive. Success with a watered down glass of wine might never be enough.

The mixing of this drink was mildly interesting: a sugar cube is placed on a slotted spoon over a glass containing one shot of absinthe. The sugar is pre-soaked in alcohol (usually more absinthe), then set ablaze. The flaming sugar cube is then dropped into the glass, thus igniting the absinthe. Finally, a shot glass of water is added to douse the flames.

Worst case scenario, she would look like a fool twice in a single day, for her that was not a bad ratio of successes to failures. The large blonde muscle man doubted her skill enough to depart for the Omni Prime Medical Center, a prudent choice considering the fact that he had no idea who she was and if he did he probably would have taken the visitors with him for their safety. While she waited for the armored giant's drink she ordered herself a bottle of whiskey and took a seat next to a stranger. Bars were nice places, the drinks made her belly feel warm and her head feel fuzzy and happy. She would wave them, being all of these mercenaries (not that she knew that nor would she have cared to know) to take a seat and to perhaps lay the vomit-covered giant on a table or the counter.

The only problem was going to be administering the alcohol...

Perhaps that is something she should have considered. Is alcohol injectable? Doubtful and if it was, that would sting like hell. Perhaps a funnel could be of use. He did not have to breathe all of the time. Maybe she would wait until he had a seizure and then after his postical period resolved she or one of his allies could feed him a drink. She did not need to be sober to think, neither did his friends. Drinks always make things clearer, or at least more interesting. "What do you guys like, the fruity kind or the burny kind?" She called out in inquiry as she popped the top off her bottle of whisky and took a swig.

Topic Crashing, Sorry for the delay​

<i></i>

 

[Kairyuu]

Osore was mumbling as he stumbles into the bar, having regained consciousness only moments ago and figuring that this establishment to which he was being carried would be a better option than dying out on the streets. Streets was a relative term since near as he could tell this place was as open as his armor most of the time. It would normally be disconcerting to have only rock over your head, but he was currently too far gone to even notice, much less care. The doors to the bar are less pushed open and more fallen upon as he tries to get his feet under him once more and fails. Well, at least he was making an entrance.

His helmet was under one arm, watery blue eyes free to look around for the flaming head of hair and head that way. Not because he knew this woman or trusted her but because it was more familiar to him than anything else in the room. He falls onto a chair near her, panting from the exertion as she asks something about bunnies. Wait no...bunnies? That made no sense. ”Hop hop....?” That was likely all she'd be able to get out of him for the moment as the world swam around him and then froze askew.

And before him was the body. Dark hair, golden eyes, dark skin. Smiling as he leaned on his staff and watched. Hoshikata, somewhere beyond this world but not gone. And watching. Waiting. He vanishes as the world begins revolving like the inside of a globe around him again. Osore leans back in his seat and continues to take deep breaths, not even noticing that his lips were beginning to turn blue.

If he did he wouldn't care. Right now his only concern was that he was both in the worst pain of his life and conscious, and one of those was going to have to go.

 

[Takahashi Matsu]

[Just going to slide in as well, because activity is solo]

Sarunishi's nose burned at the absolute bastardization that was performed in regards to a most wondrous of drinks. His jaw clenched as it stuck out more obviously than sandworms or giants. What unsophisticated practices from these savages. Wheeling himself right around from the street he had been meandering down and pushed himself past those filtering in and out of said bar that was full of particularly obvious congregation from this with more...active wills. An unfortunate man found himself prickled deeply by a cactus as Sarunishi barreled his way through. In complete disbelief and a particularly large amount of pain, the man scurried away after realizing the sheer bulk Sarunishi commanded. He was in no way larger than others, but he was a man of considerable height and shocking appearance. This, however, seemed to be the case of many in their world. Hunting for the words in his mind, Sarunishi's hand shot out as a finger was pointed directly at the glass of absinthe which had flame put to it and he burst. "Poison, I dare say, vaaaaaaaaagrants! How dare thee try and serve such malign elixirs without proper conduct!"<i></i> Sarunishi harumphed and moved forward towards the ensemble.

He was completely oblivious to the world around him. His massive nest of fire beetles had become disrupted and many sought refuge outside of his frame for once. They scurried all over, perhaps igniting various materials as they went and exploded in small puffs of flame. It was an unfortunate side effect of being a gigantic furnace contained within flesh. "Don't you dare serve the diminished concoction! It infiltrated my nose and assassinated my senses that someone would be so careless as to actually burn such magnificent booze of this nature!"<i></i> Sarunishi's words were sharp and to the point. He simply did not approve of such drink preparation. Truly, however, he did not notice Shiori, Osore, or otherwise whatever company may be had. He was fixated on the drink and nothing more.

If given the opportunity, Sarunishi's hands would dash said drink to bits. Simultaneously his fire beetles would reside themselves in and around him if they hadn;t exploded. Some would find their way onto Osore's armor or into Shiori's hair if permitted. They might even find their ways into Makoto's nostrils if given the chance. He had no control over them. They simply wished to defend their host when threatened and they took Sarunishi's temper over drinks to mean there was conflict. Assessing that such was not exactly the case they would make themselves comfortable by watching and learning. After said bit of rage, Sarunishi would pull himself up over the bar and push aside the bartender, likely resulting in some sort of head trauma given Sarunishi's lack of knowledge pertaining to his own strength. He'd then proceed, if permitted, to make absinthe properly with an actual absinthe fountain the diluted the water over a scale that hit sugar on only one part allowing the sugar to hit the liquid and mingle properly without flame. "Philistines and cretins. Flames should be used rarely in drinks. Might as well wear a giant hat that's on fire while you're at it."<i></i> Still, completely focused on the drinks.

 

[Tsukino Nanami]

</B>Chapter 9: Gates of Hell<B>Act 3: Bar in Babylon
Owners of dogs will have noticed that,
if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection,
they will think you are God.

Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that,
if you provide them with food and water and affection,
they draw the conclusion that they are God.

~Christopher Hitchens​

Having followed Osore to the bar, she noticed the man snap-to just moments before approaching the bar. She truly dislikes this man and his clan. No, she didn't dislike Osore, but rather Tenken. The man promised her payment if she worked with the clan and this is her third job without a single iota of payment. She saw the man once, having asked for an audience with him upon making her introduction only for him to promptly leave without even amusing her with a conversation of payment. The man, known as Tenken, didn't bother to hear what her terms were. She didn't ask for riches, great clothing, a home in moon, nor did she ask for royalty; all she wanted was information on her beloved home which is now in ruins. A land forsaken by everyone in this world due to 'a god's will'. If that is the answer she has 'earned' by working with the clan for 3 jobs unpaid, she will bear great resentment for the clan and do everything in her power to tear it apart.

Same shackles
Different Master​

She had spent her entire adolescence as a slave to Mist ANBU's S.C.A.R splinter organization, having been put through brainwashing to fulfill the desires and longing for vengeance for one man. A slave to a word that turned her into a puppet to kill her own family against her will. Her mother and father were part of a terrorist faction from Storm and she was used to kill them with her very own hands. Ghosts of the past continued to haunt her during her waking hours and give her terrors while she slept. A slave to a man known simply as 'Leader' is no different than her current situation of being a slave to an entire clan of people. While the clan are filled with colorful and interesting characters, her resentment towards the clan doesn't waver. She won't resort to killing Tenken or any other member of the Isaki Clan; no. Something so swift is too kind for a clan who relishes in playing political games. Internal strife is what will ultimately ruin Tenken. Though, if she is given ample information, all of this conspiring will be for moot.

Conspiring will have to wait until after this job. She will not accept another until payment has been received. Though, she is on-the-fence about whether to leave this decrepit and putrid clan behind after payment or continue forth with more jobs as long as payment becomes more regular. She has a goal that she wants to reach, and being the Isaki lap-dog isn't going to help her accomplish her goals. She followed the man into this establishment which smelled very similar to the bar in Moon Country. As she walked in, she heard a man shout loudly. She winced as the man shouted stupidity, perhaps the man was already drunk. Holding the heavy coat on her arms, she was dressed in her usual attire of black and white; the clothing finally dried out from the excess of sweat that she bathed in.

The man continued to shout, creating all forms of noise pollution. Her eyes narrowed at the loud and boisterous man for a moment before walking to Osore, placing her coat down on a stool next to him. She mumbled something to him. "Drink some water and clean that vomit off of yourself, you look pathetic," she said coldly before the man shouted about philistines and cretins. Her eyes darted towards him and locks on him. Either this man is extremely drunk or extremely stupid. Either answer didn't sit well with her. She gets drunk often as well, but she gets loud when the situation calls for it. This man, on the other hand, is starting to piss her off. She is already quite irritable from the intense heat of the travel, dehydration, Osore's buzz-kill at the gates, and the fact that their failure of a medic told them to come to the bar to heal Osore's ails with the nectar of the gods; alcohol. This only heals Bacchus' ails.

Turning her eyes towards the red-head failure of a medic, she cleared her throat to get her attention; unless she's already drunk as well. "Is that loud one one of yours?" she asked the red-head. Scanning the bar, she noticed a man sitting by himself at the bar who ordered something local. It's strange that none of these people seemed to be local; not even the local herself looked local. They seemed too... pale. Turning her eyes back towards Shiori, she continued with "You do realize that taking Mr. Vomit-face to the hospital would probably have been better, right?"

[Topic Entered]
[Mark for Training]
[778 words]
[Sorry for short post]

 

[Xiangtian Xiao]

The village hidden in the Sand was underground. When Kyojin carried Osore through the tunnels leading into the village as his foot make contact with solid, sand-less ground he almost felt at home. He was a man of the earth, of mountain and caves. Regardless of the fact Sunagakure was completely foreign, Kyojin was in his zone. He could feel the many lives that roamed this village through his feet. Admittedly, he began to hope there would be time to explore the village, perhaps on his own so the earth of Sunagakure could be "spoken" to. No doubt there is rich history etched within these rocks and Gaea shall tell him so.

Osore began to waken the closer Tetsu and Kyojin got to the bar and the man decided to take the last few stretch forward himself. Kyojin obliged him, for he was now awake and thus was there no reason to continue carrying him. The seven foot and a half giant followed into the bar, bending down a little to fit through and took a look around. Barefoot with a travel cloak and dark clothes underneath, he must have been quite the sight for the locals. A few continued to stare but all looked away when Kyojin's eyes scanned the crowd. Kyojin's eyes of ruby and blood-red sclerae unnerved many and it was no wonder the locals looked away in fear, despite their grumbling about foreigners. His intimidating figure meant no one bothered him much however and truthfully, he rather preferred it that way. That way, no blood is shed and a certain incident from years ago in a distant, terrible bar will not repeat.

Now Kyojin wondered what the red-haired woman will do next... aside from offering them a drink. On some occasions, he limited himself to one or two bottles, or a glass of good whiskey. Though he could get drunk, it took drinking a lot to do so and it was not something he enjoyed doing so. He thought drinking far too much would addle the senses and a warrior should always be sharp, alert. Yes... One glass.

"Glass of bourbon, please."

Instead of sitting down he stood behind Osore, ever vigilant eyes scanning the crowd.

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

Makoto's wait was interrupted by a woman pushing her way through the door and announcing a drink order loudly enough to be heard over the building crowd. He blinked as he took in her appearance--yes, that was undoubtedly the same woman who had let him into the underground city when he got there. His confusion was increased when it turned out the drink was not, precisely, for her, but quite possibly for the walking suit of armor that barely managed to stumble in behind her.

Unless she was drinking both absinthe and whiskey, that was. Not a thing anyone would do. Well, anyone who liked to be anything remotely resembling upright for the rest of the evening.

"We meet again," he greeted as she sat down next to him. He was in a relatively good mood, all told. Not because of the impending alcohol, but because of the puzzle in front of him to be solved. "You seem to have acquired an entourage. Friends of yours? And I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name before, at the gate."

Wouldn't be a bad idea to ask her what had happened in Sand, either. He could be certain someone who was greeting people at the gate was a local for sure.

The bartender came by and slid him a mug of something dark gold and foaming. He raised an eyebrow and gave a mental shrug. Beer of some kind, by the looks of it. Well, why not. He flipped a yen note for payment out of a pocket and passed it over before turning to the curious puzzle.

"He's not drunk already, then?" Certainly the walking armor looked like he was either drunk or seriously ill. If it was the latter instead...well, drinking until you passed out counted as some kind of medicating, he supposed. And all the more likely a course of action if you were in a city that was barely pulling itself together. Makoto studied the man, using his admittedly limited medical knowledge to guess which of the two it was. "...or is he just ill?"

Wouldn't be too hard to pour a bottle down his throat, assuming one can reach that high... Although even a sick or inebriated giant was still a giant.

Speaking of giants...

Makoto's nose wrinkled ever so slightly as a large, yelling man entered. Talking about...the alcohol, apparently? The absinthe the Sand woman had ordered, more specifically. Was he a rival bartender, or a brewer of the stuff, or just a drunk? Not that a number of the latter being around was entirely unexpected.

"Excuse me," he said loudly in a clear, cutting tone, directed at the new giant. "Would you please watch your little scurrying friends? I think most people would prefer to leave at the end of the night without being scorched."

He discreetly shifted himself away from what looked like the path a few of them might be heading for, and was ready to brush any off himself if need be. Was the man an uncontrolled Aburame or just an eccentric?

Bloodline users, he thought with a deep twinge of disgust. And definitely either another bartender or some kind of enthusiast.

And another member of the curious party, this one another woman. Makoto eyed the newcomer carefully. She was upright, seemingly sober, and not yelling. That put her a bit ahead of a couple other people in the room, at least.

It was a shame she had to open her mouth and display ignorance almost immediately. Not a local, this one, and in which case, most of the rest of the party wasn't either. Only the redhead definitely was.

"I would assume that, due to to the fact the whole city seems to be in some sort of enduring crisis, their hospital's resources would be strained and not likely to be of much help to outsiders," he said in a tone that was at least forty percent less condescending than he felt it ought to be. Not his village, but if one couldn't observe what was around them, then he ought to correct them. "Not to mention, it would likely have taken quite a while to get your friend there treatment, even if they had the resources to spare. You did notice while you were out strolling that several parts of the place seem to recently have exploded, yes?"

He wasn't particularly versed in medicine himself, but alcohol always made both a decent painkiller and a fantastic antiseptic, so if they were short on painkillers or sedatives they could certainly do worse than pouring a bottle or two of the strong stuff down his throat.

He took a sip of his beer and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. Spiced, in some way he didn't clearly recognize but felt fitting to the setting. He pulled the mug back, gave it an appreciative glance, and took a longer drag.

The third giant that night came in through the door then, an improvement in both sobriety and health on the other two by the looks of it. The first one's bodyguard, by the way he hovered? Hm. And probably the best one to ask for information, come to it.

"Excuse me." He coughed to attract the new man's attention. "Might I ask. That man you are guarding, where exactly is he from? Are you all traveling together?"

He did not as the extent of the party, if it was just these three (four?) or others. If that information came up, it did, but they were not Sand native very clearly, and of less interest to him once he found out exactly where they were from.

 

[Michi]

"We meet again,"

A familiar sound greeted her. She did not know his face, she did not know anyone's face for the most part. Despite having the gift of sight again, she has found vision to be a trivial benefit. She missed it more when she lacked it. Her ears were better at making sense of the confusion, unhindered by walls and barriers. Shiori smiled, he was not a madman in all likelihood. "Long days deserve a hard drink," she replied cordially. She was terrible at small talk, not because she disliked anyone in particular but rather because Sunagakure was a private place. It was rare to have an outsider visit, never-mind multiple outsiders. Soon after she took her seat, the giants made their way into the bar. Making small-talk with her neighbor while the barkeep mixed the debilitated man's drink, he observed the swelling number of guests.

"You seem to have acquired an entourage. Friends of yours? And I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name before, at the gate."

They were no friends of hers, rather they were complete strangers. Shiori shook her head 'no' in response to his inquiry. "These people brought an addict to the gates," Shiori explained. She was not about to try to detox the man, but she was more than willing to continue to medicate him. "Considering the damages this city recently suffered, I am afraid that our hospital is not going to have the quantities of prescription medications necessary to treat whatever ails him." She explained matter-of-factly. There was a finite stock of herbs, tonics, and medications as well as practitioners. She was a medic, but only in name. Being the cousin of the Kazekage had its benefits. She was proficient at healing, but if the man had any true disorders or disabilities all she truly could do for him was exert her skill over life and death which took know knowledge and was nothing more than a magic trick. It made her a necromancer in a way, a dam good one, but sadly as a medic all she had was a plethora of parlor tricks and a rudimentary understanding of human biology. The only reason she understood Osore's condition was because she was also an addict and recognized the symptoms that addled him. [/col

"My name is Hahaoysuna," Shiori added. It was strange using her actual name, rather than the one given to her by Sousuke's family. In this form, Takahashi would only recall a figment. A dangerous lie, perhaps not to her yet but to his fragile mind. So here, in this form she was who she was.

"He's not drunk already, then?"

"One of his allies specified a need for pain medications,"</B><i></i> Shiori clarified shaking her head. That was what solidified her diagnosis.

”Hop hop....?”

The armored giant inquired. A hops man? She had taken him for a hard liquor kind. At least he was conscious, attempting to administer alcoholic beverages to an unconscious man could be tenuous. She doubted intravenous administration would even be taken up by the body, she really did not understand human anatomy that well despite her vocation but she always assumed that drunkenness had something to do with the intestinal uptake. Homo-sapiens were a strange, overly complicated species. A vodka enema would have been equally unpleasant, and attempting to do so in the bar would probably not have worked out well for either of them. Consuming firewater the way that it was intended. "Hops won't give you the poison you need," Shiori replied automatically turning ehr attention back to her 'patient' for a lack of a better term.

She was about to offer the armored man a cup of prepared absinthe, she never liked the stuff much herself despite the near immediate buzz. It reminded her of black licorice mixed with cheap wine, not that effective drinks tasted 'good' per-say, but at the very least they do not taste bad. "You need to drink up before you have a seizure," Shiori explained, her tone strange considering she was plying a man with alcohol in an attempt to clear his mind rather than cloud it. Days earlier she was trying to kill a man after picking him up, or rather following said deviant out into an ally. It nearly costed the ancient her life, or at the very least her arm. His comrades followed soon after, the Kirishii brethren and his stabby princess. It was strange that such men of stone existed outside of Homura's sphere of influence, part of her even considered the possibility that their terrible form was based off of them rather than off the depths of his imagination. He took a burbon, not her poison of choice unless it involved cooking - something she was terrible at.

Before she had the opportunity to pass it to the visitor or pour it directly into his mouth, some tavern-rat suffering from lunacy made a dramatic appearance.

"Poison, I dare say, vaaaaaaaaagrants! How dare thee try and serve such malign elixirs without proper conduct!"

"What?" Shiori responded in an exasperated tone as she viewed the pointing madman. He was absolutely filthy, the insects were simply raining off of him. Shiori scooted back in her stool, lifting her feet off the floor. "EEEEk!" Shiori cried as she dropped her bottle of whiskey onto the floor. She still had the flaming dose of absinthe, the fire already extinguished by the time she slid it across the table towards Osore and stood on her stool to obtain maximum distance from the swarm. Some of the insects popped and when they did a small spark of flame singed the floor they once stood on.

"Is that loud one one of yours?"

The princess coughed. Crouched on a stool still, she shook her head 'no.' She had never seen that man before, perhaps he was one of the criminals released from the Obsidian or perchance he was a former Asylum patient. She did not know for a fact if he was either, but her keen sense of sound would have most certainly recognized his bellows. <B>"Never heard him,"<i></i> Shiori replied as the madman continued onward with his rant.

"Don't you dare serve the diminished concoction! It infiltrated my nose and assassinated my senses that someone would be so careless as to actually burn such magnificent booze of this nature!"<i></i>

Since there was no such thing as the French in this universe, this must be the Sunan method of preparation. It differed from the conventional slotted spoon over a glass of absinthe that was infused with a cube of sugar and water alone to create the cloudy concoction. It was a weaker beverage, that method others may have preferred. Shiori looked down mournfully at her bottle of whiskey, speaking of fire and beverages - do combustible insects and flammable beverages mix? The drink, shattered by the crazed man's fist. Why was everyone she saw today a giant? At lest in contrast to her rather average human frame. The beetles were frenzied, their skittering legs and hissing call heralded their approach. Several climbed the leg of the stool, Shiori attempting to leap from the seat to the table adjacent. Her aim was accurate, but the table was not suited for a woman's weight and it tipped to the side the moment her heels scraped the surface. She let out a shriek as she slid off the table and onto the floor. The host of insects that had not already ignited or receded back to their lair starting crawling over Shiori. She tried to brush them off, but the quantity of insects far out-numbered her hands. "النزول النزول النزول النزول النزول النزول!" ('get off' repeatedly) She screamed shrilly.

"Philistines and cretins. Flames should be used rarely in drinks. Might as well wear a giant hat that's on fire while you're at it."<i></i>

The civilized foreigner was asking if the crazed man would put his insects away. Would asking work?</COLOR><i></i> She wondered but had no time to sit and ponder as she continued to fling the bunry insects anywhere but on her.

Shiori was far too busy screaming and attempting to rip insects out of her hair to notice the 'foreigner-method' of preparation or to answer the other civilized foreigner's inquiry. But the woman seemed to have no qualm notifying her that she 'done-messed up.'

"You do realize that taking Mr. Vomit-face to the hospital would probably have been better, right?"

Shiori's initial reply was a continuation of 'get them off' on cyclic repeat in her foreign tongue. She was right of course, the drugs found in a hospital would have been 'better' but they would not have been a long-term solution to a long-term problem. She knew the ravages of addiction well, it blunted the pain and it let you forget albeit for only a brief interlude what you had that concoction there in the first place. Be it pains of the body, heart, soul or mind, we all have weaknesses and short-comings and there comes a point for many where their ability to rectify drops off. "He's an addict!"<i></i> Shiori screamed shrilly as she continued to pluck and wipe away the voracious swarm. He had all of the symptoms: the nausea and vomiting, the diaphoresis, the disorientation. The circumoral cyanosis, however, did not belong. <COLOR color="red">"Is he breathing?" Shiori pointed and asked as she momentarily pause in the midst of her own distress.

 

[Kairyuu]

The woman was talking to someone else, someone who was already here and seemed to know her. That was good, it meant he could gasp in relative peace as she set her drink on fire and expected him to drink it. He'd never had alcohol before, it would have done serious damage on him before all of this. When most of your external body and a chunk of the internal were covered with burn scars, anything could be fatal much less something that led to clumsiness and a willingness to jump headlong into the disease riddled waters of lowered inhibitions. Still, it was nice she had a friend, people needed those. Did he have one?

His world swam once more before coming into focus to the screaming of a lunatic about poison. And bugs. Bugs everywhere. And now some of his allies arrived, Nanami was telling him to do something. He heard vomit and some gibberish, and his fevered brain just made up the rest. ”I don't wanna go on a rollercoaster.” Everything was extremely warm right now, and he knew that wasn't supposed to be happening. He looks to Kyojin, the other giant ordering a bourbon as if this was a walk in the park. And he chuckles because of the absurdity of the moment. One woman asking him about rabbits, another about carnival rides, one guy was screaming about poison and unleashing an Oprahly swarm of locusts upon them...and then this other guy just walked up and ask for some whiskey.

Osore grabs the glass of absinthe and stops as his brain finally registered one problem among the many. He looks over at Shiori funny because her question was spot on, his chest wasn't moving anymore. He was gasping for air, but he wasn't getting any. ”It's fine. Promise. He can breathe if he wants to.” He gasps again, suddenly taking a deep breath when a moment before he couldn't. Then he lifts the glass and drinks the swill before standing up.

”HEy...that's....that's not nice. Put those things away.” Osore stumbles over towards Sarunishi and lifts his hand in a fist, swinging it out....and bringing it crashing into the side of the skull of some poor sap who happened to be sitting nearby.

 

[Yomoko]

So... Tetsu wasn't sure exactly when Kyojin took over completely carrying Osore to the bar. Using chakra to help carry Osore tired him out quicker than expected. The metal young shinobi eventually fell behind and blacked out for a moment in an alleyway. After a few minutes a local came up giving the odd metal man a cup of water. Tetsu lifted his helmet enough to expose his mouth to drink the water. He thanked the man who was brave enough to approach the young isaki. Tetsu could have been a terrorist, a killer, a suicidal maniac and yet the man decided to help him regardless. Maybe there were good people in the world... maybe they existed. Possibly... maybe... just a select few. He wasn't quite convinced on this... but it was now in front of his eyes the possibility that not everyone in the world needed to be purged. But still... many, too many, but many did.

He eventually found his way to the bar, luckily he wasn't too far away before he lost consciousness himself. He saw a man with bugs, the red haired lady, nanami and akaya, another man who was talking towards nanami in a smart ass attitude that... well if he knew nanami and he was sure he did, wouldn't end well for the man. For now tetsu would watch as Osore who might be hallucinating as he swung at the fire bug man but hit a pedestrian. For now, Tetsu would sit, drink a glass of water in which the bartender happily gave him. Though he wasn't so sure as to how happy the bartender would be after whatever fight was happening finished. Not if Tetsu knew Osore that is...

(OOC: excuse my lateness, irl got to me this weekend)

 

[Takahashi Matsu]

Sarunishi's body moved away from the crashing fist in some regards. What a wonderful ensemble of individuals presented before him. After taking upon himself the duties of tending bar without any real disagreements, he'd serve drinks to those asking happily while keeping an eye on the situation. Among the dance of drink with the previous bartender laying upon the floor after his invasion behind the bar, he found himself somewhat cramped when needing to pass over him. It was of no major issue, but it was at times a bit annoying to straddle over his position. With this Sarunishi became quite aware that his position behind the bar, although uncontested by those in the room, was not necessarily the most desired. Regardless he served all drinks with his business cards. Mystery Emporium. Tsuchi Sarunishi, Businessman Extraordinaire.

"I am sure they are native to this land. Assume they're mind, but I am not sure they aren't yours"<i></i> Sarunishi said in response to Makoto. Perhaps he'd had them sneak their ways about. Of course, they had scampered onto his being and into his clothing, but for them to retreat into his body and be noticed would be quite the feat. Those that had remained outside would hiss at those that came too close, but they'd stopped exploding for the time being. Sarunishi would laugh as he finally came to the realization that Osore had drank the absinthe and he brushed his hands off as if a job had been well done. Timidly, bar patrons would approach from the sides and order drinks which, barring interruption or impeding his actions, Sarunishi would happily serve. "Much better that way. Fire just burns it all away. No point in trying to drink booze that ain't got booze."<i></i> He'd nod and tend to cleaning glassware by hand.

His attentions, as before, were narrow but quickly becoming less narrow. There was now a throng of patrons as far as Sarunishi was concerned. He tapped his teeth for a moment before have an eureka type event before reaching into his robes. Rustling about he found a few pieces of dark chocolate and presented them to Kyojin. "Dark chocolate for the bourbon. Better with other things, but decent with bourbon. A gift for the blood. I once walked barefoot too." He nodded and licked his lips before attending to other matters. This was their business. He was simply a part of the background.

[Always feel free to skip me lest you wish to interact with me. Sorry it took me so long to respond and that it's short.]

 

[Tsukino Nanami]

</B>Chapter 9: Gates of Hell<B>Act 3: Bar in Babylon​

Saaawing and a miss! Well, at least Osore missed his intended target and probably broke the face of another. Letting out a little groan, she turned her head towards the blue haired on, which she'll name 'Mr. Smartass and placed a hand upon her hip, showing pure and utter dismay for the words he spoke. She looked over the man. Weak, frail, novice at best in terms of combat. Besides, regardless of how much she disliked the Isaki clan and their inability to pay her for her sword, she knows that at least Tetsu and Golem-san would back her up if Mr. Smartass decided to do anything foolish. "Ah, yes. And such a place as this works just divine as a replacement medical facility. Where you have people acting belligerent as well as bugs," she said as she lifted her leg to step on a swathe of them, hearing the crunch underfoot. "crawling about. No, a school, temple, or any other place would have fared better than an unsanitary place like this bar," she said in absolute disdain for the one dressed in blue. This person probably had the mental faculties of a nine-year-old in terms of thinking things through. Or the mental faculties of the drunk woman in red.

More words spilled out of the man's mouth, but she had other things she had to tend to. After Osore swung and punched a man square in the mouth, the intended target seemed to absolutely ignore the fact that the man going through medicated withdrawals just swung at him. It didn't seem to bother him that a man standing at over 7 feet tall attempted bodily harm to him. Spinning around, the woman drew her sword and pointed the weapon in Osore's direction, letting the corner of the flat-tipped blade against the now-unhelmeted man's throat.

"I'm certain we didn't come here to get drunk and piss off the locals. Sit down and shut up. You already drank alcohol, so medicine is of absolutely no use to you now. Just shut up and drink your booze. I will not be party to your stupid squabbles while we are here in Babylon," she stated firmly towards Osore. Babylon is simply what she called Sunagakure. She wished that the group wasn't kept in the dark about the reason they arrived to Sunagakure, but as fate would have it, only Osore knew the plan for coming here. She didn't wish to fail the objective of protecting the Isaki clan in a dirty, piss-smelling bar. "Actually, don't drink the booze," she stated. The 'bar tender' was the one that Osore swung at. The bugs seemed to be migrating towards the man so it's possible that he's controlling the crawly creatures. Yes, she has her blade up to the man's throat, but she isn't going to cut down her charge. She will, however, not hesitate to completely incapacitate the man so he wouldn't start any trouble.

She glared at Osore, obviously not backing down regardless of his large stature. "Don't be stupid, Osore. Do as I say."

 

[Xiangtian Xiao]

Kyojin glanced his eyes toward the direction of a not-so-subtle cough and was asked a question. Guarding... yes, that was one of his jobs. Though Isaki Osore did not need guarding, Kyojin emphasized the fact he was a defensive warrior. There are very little things in the world that can even crack his skin. Anyone who dare go ahead him may find it quite difficult to harm him let alone break through his defenses.

Kyojin had stared at the silver haired man for a few seconds, wondering why he should even bother answering the man's questions. There was no harm in it, he decided, for it would have made no difference. "Moon Country. Yes." Those words would suffice, so he thought.

The next thing on the ruby-haired Namazu's mind was the red-haired woman... Hahaoysuna? A rather unusual name but no less than his own. So far, she has done nothing major other than convince Osore to drink something... and now she was brushing off bugs? Bugs? With the situation seemingly becoming odd each moment, Kyojin started to re-think his assessment of this place, of Hahaoysuna's decision to come here... especially when Osore swung his fist and hit the bartender in process, bloodied. Poor sod. He'll live with hell of a headache.

Wait, blood?

Kill... Kill! Kill them! Kill them all! KILL! kIlL! KIKIllKIllllKIkKIIllKILliKIkillllllllllLLLLllLLlLL...!

The blood-red sclera of Kyojin's left eye was being slowly enveloped by blackness, a sign that the one was slowly awakening. Not sure if anyone saw but he would have snapped at the next violent action, be it man, woman or child... spines will be ripped out...

The man... Sarunishi's offer of chocolate brought Kyojin's mind right on track and he quickly closed his eyes. Barefoot... remembering he was barefoot, he lightly stomped the ground, feeling the lives all around him. The earth underneath his feet, Gaea's love. Tightening his will, Kyojin calmed down, opened his eyes and thanked Sarunishi before taking a sip of the bourbon. The chocolate was nice. And best of all, reason overcame urge.

But then Nanami just had to. Kyojin said it before, the girl was unpredictable but not even he would have thought she would do this. Who knows how the drunken Osore may react. He growled and glared at her. "Unwise. Wait. Sheathe..."

Kyojin turn to Hahayosuna, uncomfortable with how the situation was becoming. "I would not dare rush you, smoothskin but... what it is you need to do, do now... please."
[MFT]

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

It was starting to get loud and he was beginning to regret coming to a bar at all.

"An addict?" Makoto glanced at the first giant, the towering man in armor that he had originally thought was drunk. "Hm. You don't see that every day. It's not really surprising with the looks of what you've been through over here that your hospital is overtaxed though. Makes one want to be rather careful with themselves, because treatment could take a while."

Medicine was in fact one of the areas that he had never had much of a need to learn much of anything about himself. Oh, he could do basic first aid with Mystical Hand or whatnot, but he wasn't a proficient healer. Considering the fact that it was the brother he didn't respect who was a medic, it was actually a wonder he'd bothered learning that much. So if she said the giant was an addict--well, then he was an addict. It wasn't as if he had the knowledge in the field to be contradicting someone who probably was a medic.

"Oh! Pleased to meet you properly, then," he said lightly. "I'm not sure if you recall my name from earlier or not, we barely spoke--I'm Makoto."

Pain medication? You can be addicted to painkillers? He glanced at the giant again. Maybe some of the shadier kinds. Or just very large doses. Imagine needing that much medication, for long enough that it would make you addicted! Some congenital condition, perhaps?

"And someone that size would need a lot to compensate for not having any..."

Not a Sand nin, then, or at least probably not. Makoto eyed the 'new bartender' again, then gave a light shrug. Not his business, as long as the bugs stayed away. He seemed harmless enough aside from those in any case. Fortunately nothing was actually catching fire; even what things were wooden in the place were made of a sturdier kind than would catch fire from a tiny bug exploding or two.

(He was also feeling a touch put out that he was undoubtedly the smallest, most frail-looking man there. Considering as the others visible in the near area were practically behemoths though, this was not difficult.)

"You might try a low-level electrical current, Hahaoysuna-san," he added. "It should disorient them and make them easier to brush off, or incapacitate them completely if it's strong enough."

A method he couldn't use without actually casting a jutsu, mind, but he'd seen Kanashimi do it with larger bugs than that. In general, bugs and lightning did not mix very well. He could, however, lightly coat himself with nonelemental chakra that he could flare out at a moment's notice if the things scampered toward him again.

The armored giant appeared to be either mishearing everything or having some very interesting auditory hallucinations.

Very interesting indeed. Or maybe he was responding to the bugs? Makoto lifted an eyebrow and pondered a second before discarding the thought as irrelevant and taking another large drink from his mug. He didn't jump when the giant's fist connected solidly with a hapless drinker, sending the other man to the floor. The man's friends at the same table didn't look happy. Huh.

Not my problem. Unless they start a fight. In which case I can defend myself.

Another man wandered in and right up to the bar, or perhaps staggered was a better term. Also seemingly unconcerned about the imminent fight. Eh. It really was probably nothing to worry about.

He's drunk for sure. Or mad, perhaps. Either one was a cause to just...not antagonize the much larger man, or at least not to bother while he was pouring drinks.

"My mistake then," he said politely to the new bartender. "Only you seemed to be covered in them before, and they're antagonizing the young lady here, you see. But as long as you're serving drinks I think none of it is much concern to anyone here."

Friendly drunks were the kind that mostly seemed to be around these parts, after all, and those tended to be amicable as long as there was alcohol around.

"Well, I don't suppose you'd rather mister addict over there receive no treatment at all?" Makoto cocked an eyebrow at the angry woman, secretly very amused now. "Are you a medic yourself? I suspect not, because if you were you wouldn't have needed to seek out others to treat him. Again, you seem to have missed the fact that they're in just a bit of a crisis, and treating curable injuries would seem to come ahead of assisting a detox. Their medical facilities are probably overflowing as it is--so I suppose your options are limited to 'like it' and 'lump it.' Although if you'd rather drag him back out into the street and solicit help there or tie him to a bed--if you can find one that can hold him while he's thrashing--until the painkillers are completely out of his system and he's adjusted, then I'm sure you're welcome to."

He paused and took another drink, before plastering an insincere smile on his face.

"Anywhere else that could act as an emergency medical replacement no doubt already is, and again, a detox of a foreigner is not a priority. You'd be no more likely to get a place in a temple than the hospital. Besides, alcohol has medicinal use as a sedative as well as a disinfectant, and can relax him and knock him unconscious, not to mention will likely provide a slight cushion to his system while he's drying out from whatever other drugs he's been on."

Another drink, and then a wide grin, this time of genuine amusement.

"But please, continue to implicitly and explicitly insult the town full of armed ninja who have deigned to allow you in and one of whose members is at least trying to treat your friend. I'm sure it endears you to everyone." He did note she had a blade at her 'friend's' throat, though. Overall just a charming person, then. "...Should I be telling the rest of your lot to blink twice if you're threatening them with genuine harmful intent?"

It was the rough-skinned giant whose words made him freeze for a second.

"...Moon Country," he murmured. "I. Yes, I've heard of it. Thank you."

They probably weren't looking for him--Moon wouldn't have sent him solo if there was such a large contingent to spare, and they didn't look like any Wardens or Medics or even general village guards he'd ever seen. Which meant they were there on other business.

But what business? Business that apparently, did not make them hesitate to identify where they were traveling from. Were they some of the nominal civilians, but with ninja training, that Moon housed frequently? Were they mercenaries in truth? More to the point, they openly identified themselves as being from Moon and were about the cause an imminent racket, by the looks of the men at the table their armored giant had attacked in a drunked/detoxing rage.

Makoto did not quite thump his head on the bar, but he very much wanted to. Instead, he took a very long pull of the spiced beer, draining the large mug almost down to half.

This is so not good. And I probably shouldn't tell them where I'm from. They certainly don't need to think I wish in any way to be affiliated with them. What a mess.

Oh good, he wasn't the only one who thought the angry woman was a little out of control with that whole little knife routine.

If that is how she treats her friends...or allies...then I think I'll have dodged a solid strike if I do not become affiliated with this lot.

 

[Michi]

OC: Sorry for the delay, between the site being down and working... YEAH

IC:

"You might try a low-level electrical current, Hahaoysuna-san,"

The pleasant foreigner suggested. She was actually strangely proficient in lightning attacks, having rediscovered how to do so only recently. Shiori's hands ran through an array of handseals, she was casting Chidori Current. He expected something so powerful to have a bit more oomph, but alas the electric discharge was not a strong deterrent. It protected her from harm, but the insects were not hurting her, they were just being bugs. Their little crawly legs and little explosions that felt more like a rude flick than a dire injury was a nuisance. Shiori's face dropped in disappointment as the insects continued on their merry way despite her efforts to displace them (preferably across the room). "I forgot how to shock things," Shiori complained. The Santaru had a passive skill that allowed them to inherently damage whatever touched them, but this excessive electrical discharge was limited to those clansmen and remnant of a pure Sunahoshi these days.

”I don't wanna go on a rollercoaster.”

The armored giant complained amiss the chaos. Patrons continued to drink, while others were as Shiori was, perched up high in hopes that the insects would leave them be. Despite that, Osore's lack of being okay was readily apparent.

”It's fine. Promise. He can breathe if he wants to.”

Shiori glowered at the liar. Humans were annoying with their constant need for air. All of that breathing stuff seemed tedious and redundant, the stuff compulsive habits are made of. The passage of air was necessary for a great many things in human biology, the basis for ATP. Without air, the body would lack the energy necessary to perform its necessary biological functions. That much she understood from textbooks she had liberated from Sousuke's study, coupled with the fact that words mean little to someone where the application is limited she really did not understand much more than the fact that air was good and lack of air was bad. There was of course symptomatic signs - the circumoral cyanosis and the mottled flesh being the most obvious but the altered mentation was another symptom but even a skilled medical practitioner would overlook the sign in the metal giant due to his addiction addled form. His body, holed up inside that metallic monstrosity. She could -try- to help him but she was not sure how. Why he was not breathing was a strange one, if it was due drugs, he would not be this alert. There was no audible wheeze, so the upper airways were intact. That left only the large part of the human body, whatever that was called. It always moved in candidacy with the breaths humans took. "I need to take his clothes off!"</COLOR><i></i> Shiori yelled, the other barroom patrons seemingly oblivious to the giant's plight. The giant himself, no better.

”HEy...that's....that's not nice. Put those things away.”

The near apnic foreigner swung and missed the filthy 'barkeep.' It seemed that the metal giant was about to start a barroom brawl. The bitchy princess (no offense Renzo) continued to complain, but if she saw Omni Prime she might have a change of heart. But if nothing else, she had a large pointy piece of metal and she was not afraid to use it.

"I'm certain we didn't come here to get drunk and piss off the locals. Sit down and shut up. You already drank alcohol, so medicine is of absolutely no use to you now. Just shut up and drink your booze. I will not be party to your stupid squabbles while we are here in Babylon,"

Shiori was going to take advantage of this situation and attempt to tackle Osore and start trying to pry off his armor. Still standing on a table attempting to remain as insect-free as possible, she lunged at Osore. Hopefully the angry lady's sword was not carelessly pointed in Shiori's direction "Lady give me your pointy metal!" Shiori yelled as she realized regardless of her success in tackling Osore that stripping him of it in the midst of this fray was not going to be a simple task. "The metal-man is not breathing right!" Shiori clarified if the strange bluish hue of Osore's flesh was not a dead give-away.

"Actually, don't drink the booze,"

Shiori would either wrestle with Osore of his armor, whichever was giving up the greater fight. "Pretty lady, PLEASE!" Shiori yelled, indicating again that she wanted the angry woman's weapon. "And he needs to booze or he will die!" Shiori insisted. It was the truth in all actuality. There were shared receptor sites for the pain relievers that Osore was using to create the painful symptoms of withdrawal that he now suffers from. "If he had a simple narotic problem he would be sore and miserable, maybe nauseated. He needs a depressant, but first he needs to breathe!" Shiori argued.

"Don't be stupid, Osore. Do as I say."

"I am sometimes a not terrible doctor!"</B><i></i> Shiori added, probably not helping her point. <COLOR color="red">"And I know addiction," she added, likely only granting herself a trace of credibility if she did not worsen the situation. "We can measure and he can self-prescribe fire-water, NOT medicines! He is not breathing and he is going to die! HELP ME HELP HIM!" Shiori pleaded.

<B>"Unwise. Wait. Sheathe..."

The kirishii agreed with her, at least someone was being sensible. Shiori was going to get herself killed one of these days.

 

[Yomoko]

(OOC: I maybe posting out of turn... but idk what the order is at the moment so... yup )

And well chaos happened with Osore. But for some reason the smaller metal man wasn't surprised. The red haired lady whose named escaped him or maybe she hadn't said to them, regardless he didn't know it, was yelling that he needed booze. Obviously she was either a drunk herself or a recovering drunk. Regardless of that fact she was entirely wrong. Tetsu didn't know the extensive amount of information as to why Osore wore his metal suit however he did know that the suit was his way of staying ALIVE. He knew that there was some type of medication in the suit that injected into Osore and he knew for some reason or the next, Osore wasn't receiving said injection of medicine. Either due to he was empty or there was a malfunction Tetsu wasn't sure. He was sure though that he wasn't a drunk and he didn't need booze due to he was relapsing. Though he couldn't argue, it might be a way of helping. He sighed to himself silently, ignoring everyone else in the room and talking to the red haired lady who called herself a medic. "He isn't a drunk medic girl. That suit keeps him alive. What exactly happened to him previously to make him need the suit I don't have the answer to. I do know however that Osore-san isn't acting this way due to being a drunk and he is relapsing due to it. There must be something wrong with the pain medicine that is within his suit that injects into him in some fashion. Alcohol may help subdue him but it will not save him. We need pain medicine... and we need it now." He was clear with his wording and hoped his explanation was clear enough as well, with what limited information he had on Osore. He probably should take better care in knowing his own kin.

He would then look to Osore and then back to the red haired lady. He sighed as he spoke to nanami "I can retrain him better than you can incapacitate him Nanami... allow me." Once again using his family trait to sing genjutsu into their song, he hummed a tune to make the giant Osore incapable of moving. He would make the man feel numb and unable to move from the spot he was in. Nanami really needed to stop bringing out that silly little dagger of her's though. One of these times it will cause an issue and Tetsu might be the one that will have to restrain her that time. He still disregarded everyone else in the room that wasn't part of his part. They weren't important enough at the moment, not even the weird beetle man that was definitely out there. He hoped his genjutsu did work though, this madness needed to end and Osore needed to be treated immediately. He hoped getting Osore to stand still would help her cause in getting him breathing once again.


(OOC: i used Tree binding technique-mastered to make it so the Osore can't move. Using Hashigaki's BL ability to add to my Gen DC if i target 1 person and not make it an AOE. obviously i cant force this onto Osore, it will be up to him if it works.)

(OOC2: sorry osore... Tetsu's getting impatient with your character lol)

 

[Tsukino Nanami]

</B>Chapter 9: Gates of HellAct 3: Bar in Babylon​

The Fool​

The man in blue speaking from his comfortable corner calling himself Makoto. No, Nanami is more than settled with calling him Mr. Smartass from here-on-out. Sarcasm dripped from every word he spoke, causing Nanami to not like this man. With the way the alcohol is being used, it isn't being used in any medicinal form. No, it was being used by an armored moron for recreational use. The way it's being used has no calming or remedial effects to what ails him. No, it's being consumed to the point of stupidity. No treatment at all? What kind of treatment is drinking one's self to oblivion?

Turning her head to the Fool -- aptly named Mr. Smartass, Nanami spoke to him. "Ah, yes, and drinking one's self to stupidity is such a great remedy. Please tell me more about the great quality medical treatment is being administered. While, yes, foreigners might be low on their priority list, at least a somewhat clean place to let him rest and get over whatever ails him would have been nice. But, instead, we are in this bar with smart-asses like you," she said simply to the man in blue.

The Ignorant​

<i></i>
She didn't sheathe her weapon because of Kyojin's demands. No. She doesn't even know the man's name nor does she know of the reason he is here. Is it because 2 armored people aren't good enough so we had to bring in someone with natural armor? If only this man knew that the Isaki Clan wouldn't appreciate his work and would most likely screw him over with the jewels and gems that he has the ability to quickly dowse. How many jobs would he go through before he has had enough of the Isaki Clan? Would he be in the dark for the reason they are here and wouldn't that make him wonder why we were here to begin with?

No, Kyojin doesn't know. The newest addition to the Isaki group doesn't realize what he got himself into. It's a pity.

The Incompetent​

<i></i>
Her eyes turned towards the red-haired woman. She, too, is drunk off of her ass. While her blade was pointed in the direction of Osore, the Red-haired woman went to tackle the armored man, claiming that he isn't breathing right. Lowering her weapon, she just watched in amazement as Shiori attempted to do something 'medical' with him. If anything, it looked like two drunks doing something perverted with one another on the bar floor. "No, I'm not going to give you my sword. Besides, if he's having troubles breathing, he wouldn't be talking." Nanami explained to the medical physician. Besides, if he had troubles breathing, he wouldn't continue to slam down more booze.

Regardless of the current condition of Omni Prime, any village would have alternate medical facilities if there were overflow in the primary medical facility. At least these people still have medical facilities and a place to call their own. If things are so dire right now, why is a place like a bar still open during a crisis? It seems that the crisis management in this village either has strange priorities or the village is lead with the same incompetent individuals like the one in red.

The Loyalist​

<i></i>
Tetsu was the only one truly loyal to Isaki Osore. Yes, his loyalty is quite commendable. It was at his request that Nanami finally sheathed her <B>SWORD. Yes, it's a full-length katana this time and not the little knife she used at the gate. It's actually her SWORD! She watched Tetsu do his thing and took a step back for a moment. Knowing full-well, of the sound-based Genjutsu used by the man, upon the first note, the woman covered her ears and began to hum to herself, trying to protect herself from being put to sleep or whatever it was that Tetsu decided to do this time. A little grunt escaped the woman's lips as she began developing a headache.

Walking up towards Tetsu after his song was done, she leaned in and whispered into his ear. "I have my headset. If you need me, call me. I need to get some fresh air. It's quite stuffy in here," she whispered, covering her mouth so people like Akira Saito can't read her lips. Oh, the lip-reading through walls and storms. As she said that, her eyes scanned over everyone else in the bar. Everyone else began giving her a pounding headache due to their stupidity or incompetence. "Feel free to hesitate before calling me though. I'm going to explore for a bit and then find us lodging," she said before turning towards the door of the bar, pushing it open and walking through.

"Good riddance," she said to herself as she left the bar.

[Topic Left unless stopped]
[Sorry for the late reply, I've been very ill the last few days]

 

[Kairyuu]

Chaos was the setting as his fist crashed into the man's head. The poor guy falls over into another table, and as these things do it got out of control quickly as people began swinging over someone spilling their drink. In true ironic fashion the fight moved away from the group but by this point Osore was more concerned about the sword being shoved into his face by Nanami. She spoke, but he didn't hear what she said. He caught snippets, the world fuzzy around him as his body began craving something it didn't have after two decades of having. Osore looks down at the sword, wondering why she was pulling a weapon on him. He heard his fellow giant speaking, nodding though he knew not what the man said.

And then there was a screaming red head on his back trying to strip him in a bar. While most men would have taken the chance to figure out their best “No dude, I SWEAR this happened” story and a way to prove this did happen, Osore instead noticed she was trying to remove his armor. He did not speak now. What came from him from a terrified, angry, beastial wail that only Naikishin could have translated to “Get this woman the hell off me!” and he begins to spin and try and dislodge her from his back.

He turns to the stranger, the one whom he did not know, and reaches out for the man, putting his face right in the other's and yelling ”HELP ME!” before standing up straight, about to tip to his back to crush the woman.

And he found he couldn't move. He could think, but his body was stuck. As he struggled, using up the little oxygen left in his body, things begin to darken. Finally he slumps, the illusionary pull of a genjutsu not able to stop gravity as his body simply crumples to the ground. All was, once more, black.

And then there was light. Of a sort. It was dark, but he could see that he was no longer in a bar. A barren land, dirt and rocks and not a star above, nothing above but darkness. And sitting by him was his cousin, with a smirk on his face that reeked of arrogance. Osore wanted to strangle the man for what he'd done to him and for the entertainment the other got from it.

”So the mighty Osore is put down like a child by something as simple as his own body. Tell me, how does it feel to be mortal?”

”It feels like I'm going to make Tenken revive you just so I can kill you again for doing this to me.”

”Doing what? I healed your body, I made you whole. I gave you the gift of health, cousin.”

”You gave me a curse. Your gift is a sword with two edges, and this one has jumped back to bite me as you knew it would. And now you'll offer to make the withdrawal lesser somehow, to ease my discomfort. But you want something. You want a part of me.”

”How astute. It would seem you already have become part of me, or would that be vice versa? You never were this quick witted before. And those memories you're having, of things you never did. Places you've never been. Tell me, Osore. How much of you is you, and how much is me now? And just how long do you think you can hold on?

With that, the world came back into a bright focus as he took a deep gulp of air, oxygen flooding his body and his consciousness returning in time to look over at the bar fight going on.

 

[Takahashi Matsu]

[I hope I wasn't the one being waited on, because it'll be short.]

Sarunishi simply watched the world revolve around him as more patrons found courage to ask for drinks. He served them happily as he kept an eye on the now rabble rousers that were bashing about and screaming. He licked his lips before pouring himself a drink and proceeding to sip on it. Others may find him insane or stupid or otherwise, but he wasn't screaming about any number of things, nor was he brandishing weapons, nor randomly using jutsu every which way. Sarunishi simply had been assaulted by the misuse of booze and attended to it. Since that'd been settled he was being an exemplary bartender and his unconcious comrade (By comrade, he truly means the previous bartender) was to make wonderful tips. Likely more than he'd ever made previously in his life. Sarunishi licked his lips once more after taking another sip of his drink before examining the man who'd been waylayed.

"I did try and help you by making sure you drank properly, but your ailments are beyond my comprehension. Perhaps these small bugs could be of aid? I am told they are wonders with poisons and otherwise, but I've no real idea of them."<i></i> Such things were of course lies. Sarunishi full well of his hive, but they had minds of their own in many regards unlike most aburame. They'd relay information based on observation, but he never understood it. Their...language...was beyond him.

 

[Michi]

OC: I am going to assume we have been abandoned by Namazu Kyojin and Makoto.

IC:

Shiori jumped onto his back and tried to wrap her legs around his... well, he was a giant, her barely over five foot frame was not going to encircle much of anything. But she made a valiant effort and was firmly attached to his back somehow. Perhaps she was part spider in a previous life. She tugged at the armor with both hands trying to pry it from him, her fingers wedged underneath. Staying attached was harder than getting on. He spun and he swayed. Shiori screeched as she was almost crushed by the giant.

”HELP ME!”

The delirious drunk man plead.

"He isn't a drunk medic girl. That suit keeps him alive. What exactly happened to him previously to make him need the suit I don't have the answer to. I do know however that Osore-san isn't acting this way due to being a drunk and he is relapsing due to it. There must be something wrong with the pain medicine that is within his suit that injects into him in some fashion. Alcohol may help subdue him but it will not save him. We need pain medicine... and we need it now."</B><i></i>

"I doubt a man his size is such a lightweight," Shiori debated as she tried to maintain her hold. "I said he was an addict, not a drunk. Fever, racing heart, tremors... eventually seizures. He is already aberrant, but eventually he is going to get violent unless he is off his ass drunk but we do not need to worry about that anymore because he is not breathing right and I dunno why!" Shiori was referencing the man's pallid face and cyanosed lips. Pain cannot kill you, it can make you WISH you were dead but it cannot kill you. In fact the withdraw from a normal opiate would be inconvenient, painful but far from perilous. It has to be a Benzo of some sort to cause such a profound withdrawal reaction. It would be impossible to determine which and it really did not matter. "DO you really think that a stranger entering an overtaxed hospital requesting exceedingly large doses of pain medications would even be considered for anything besides detox?" She also explained as she struggled to pry Osore's breastplate off.

"No, I'm not going to give you my sword. Besides, if he's having troubles breathing, he wouldn't be talking."

The angry princess replied. The ability to talk is not the first sign of hypoxia, there are plenty of people that die of respiratory failure that could talk until they lost consciousness. The important thing to note regarding oxygenation is that there are many reasons for it, his withdrawal was probably not among them. His delirium could be associated with this lack of oxygenation, rather than with physiological need for 'medication.' He was doing a pretty decent job of preventing her from success admittedly.

<B>"I can retrain him better than you can incapacitate him Nanami... allow me."

The songspinner started to sing a melody, his power seemingly in his song. The power of subjugation through words was an old, lost art. One she knew well. The angry woman sheathed her blade and upon completion she felt the giant still. She ripped the breastplate from him somehow and tried to reach around his chest. She could not reach. Damnable short arms. "BREATHE!" Shiori cried. She could not reach around him and compress his chest from behind but she could try to push from as far as her short arms and tiny fists would reach.

"I did try and help you by making sure you drank properly, but your ailments are beyond my comprehension. Perhaps these small bugs could be of aid? I am told they are wonders with poisons and otherwise, but I've no real idea of them."

Shiori's eyes widened at the offer. "NO bugs!" Shiori screamed.