Part 1.
The dull rapping of fingers on the hard mahogany table echoed throughout the darkened room as shadows played on the walls, creating malformed beasts intent to devour each other. The cloying smell of some type of cigar lingered in the air, the remnants of its existence floating around the hazy room, only accentuating the darkened atmosphere of this, one of the Myakashi strongrooms.
The owner of the rapping fingers was thinking impatiently, his final cigar finished, as crimson eyes continued to look at blueprints that had been placed before him. This particular document had cost a fortune, and burned several favours to obtain. The building it outlined was old - far older than most of the structures in Fire Country, and so the schematics had been hard to come by. Luckily, with the advancement of technology and the installation of security measures, a blueprint had to be drawn up for those who were installing such features. Naturally such a document was closely guarded, and probably should have been destroyed after being used, but people were prideful beasts and wished to store and remember their greatest works.
Finding out who the contractors had been for the new installation had been easy, but trying to find the weak link - that one person willing to sell secure information - had been difficult. Placing Myakashi agents, in the guise of cleaners, had provided little information. It had taken a careful blend of observation, seduction, blackmail and bribery to reach a point where this blueprint was in front of him, but that's another story.
The issue now was what to do with it.
The gaol was impregnable. Certainly, a shinobi skilled as Migoya and his Myakashi agents could blast their way into the place, take that which they wanted, and escape relatively unharmed but that would completely negate the purpose of why this task was being undertaken. No - Migoya did not want any lives to be taken, nor any blame linked to Konoha or the Myakashi, which made this task even more difficult.
He had gazed over the blueprint for hours now - he had no need of sleep so that was not a problem - yet his mind grew weary at figuring out all the possible scenarios and coming up with one that worked. The walls had been protected by jutsu, patrolled by skilled shinobi and samurai, and there were no obvious weak points. This prison had been designed to contain the most powerful enemies of the state after all.
Time however was a critical factor. With Konoha in lockdown, the view of security was firmly placed towards the Land of Frost, providing the opportunity to strike quickly while the proverbial eye was elsewhere. Security detail had been moved from the prison to protect villages around the lands from possible Frost Shinobi attack, and in its weakened state now was the time to act against the prison.
Migoya stroked his pale chin, nodding to himself as the plan formed. The only way out of the prison for prisoners was death or the end of their sentence.
Death it was.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
For those who took up the profession of a med-nin the subtle enjoyment of healing and fixing the suffering of others caused a rush, but to others finding out how to injure, maim or illicit pain was more of a rush. To some, like Migoya, it was a mixture of the two but to the expert albino medic a particular interest lay in the form of botany, specifically its effects on the body. For decades Migoya had perfected his craft in secret, mostly using them to line the blades of his deadly puppet traps. However, his work with the Myakashi developed more sinister requirements of his skills.
“Yes… crush it. The Chloral Hegis should be mixed in well,” Migoya stated clearly as he instructed several clan members in the preparation of a particularly virulent form of lullaby powder. Normally that powder, inhaled, would cause the victim to fall asleep, and as such was used not only in battle but in a more potent form to anaesthetise patients during operations. The current batch had been tailored by Migoya to not only be potent, but to also add a crucial ingredient.
Migoya recalled a story he had once read of two lovers whose families had forbidden them from marrying. In order to continue their love, a plan had formed where one would appear to be dead, and - after a few days, would rise from the grave and secret away with her partner. The only issue was the lover was not informed of the plan and ended up killing himself. The first part of the plan was good however and had given Migoya the current idea.
A poison that would cause those who ate it to die, from a medical investigation standpoint, but return to life a few days later.
The creation of such a toxin was, at least to Migoya, relatively easy however how to distribute it to his intended targets posed a more difficult problem. Food preparation for the prisoners was handled in-house, and as such trying to place a Myakashi member in the kitchens would have held a significant risk. No… he needed to get to the sauce… I mean source.
The Ginko Tomato Farm (GTF copyrighted - Tasteeee Tomatoes!) Inc. was one of the suppliers of canned tomato paste, used in the stalwart prison food dish of ‘Spaghetti with Tomato paste’. Delicious. They also provided one of the few pre-made goods that entered into the prison, due to the low cost (and quality). And being a canned good, no-one tended to inspect the contents of the cans.
So - the mission was clear.
Step 1 - Infect the cans with the toxin, wait until the toxin spread and the medics were called.
Step 2 - enter as a medic with the other Myakashi posing alongside the real medical teams.
Step 3 -remove the ‘dead’ targets whilst helping the sick (administering the antidote), and leaving quickly.
Step 4 - watch as the blame solely placed on the poor preparation of GTF.
Ammatseru luck be with me…
---------------------------------------
“Mikki, tell the machine to draw from canister 5”, Migoya whispered to his wooden companion Mikki. The small puppet nodded and seemingly ‘spoke’ to the machine, exerting his tsukomojo on it, causing it to obey his whims and switch from using the grated celery to adding the toxin.
The pair had infiltrated the GTF alone, posing first as workers - Migoya being a master of disguise - then working their way into understanding how the automated systems worked at producing the special tomato sauce. It was an easy processes, though the look of the tomatoes that were being used sickened Migoya… but that was a good thing. A food poisoning scare from this company would be believable.
Six large canisters seemed to be attached together, pumping the necessary ingredients into a large vat where is was mixed, before being canned ready for shipment. Canister 5 seemed to have been full of carrots or something in the past, but budget cuts must of forced the business to downgrade the quality of their goods. Waiting until he was unseen, there being no security cameras in a tomato paste factory, he had summoned a large amount of the toxin from a handy scroll directly into the vat. Brief hand seals brought forth water to dilute the toxin to an effective level, enabling it to be added to the sauce easily, and leaving no residue behind.
Mikki’s prompting and control over inanimate objects had come in very handy as Migoya watched the machine start to pump the toxin into the mixture. The lack of staff here was disconcerting, but understandable as no-one wanted to watch a machine do the same thing over and over for hours. The mixture went in, and the batch started its way down the conveyor belt.
One task remained however.
Calling on the shadows to cloud him from sight, Migoya stealthy ran towards the docking bays. He had to ensure that this particular batch made its way to the prison - after all if it went to the local supermarket it would be funny, but not result in what he needed. A burly man with a clipboard (obviously making him official) was directing pallets of cans to different areas.
Migoya watched his movements carefully, whilst Mikki watched the canning process of the special sauce. It took around 20 minutes for the cans containing the substance to start to be packed into boxes and loaded onto pallets. Now was the time.
Migoya gave Mikki a wink, and the puppet turned its gaze to the poor distribution manager. The man’s face turned a shade of red as he crossed his legs, convinced via genjutsu that he really needed to use the bathroom. Putting the clipboard down on a nearby table, he ran towards the little boys room faster than a shinobi doing a missing run.
“I think you overdid it,” Migoya whispered with a grin.
I never overdo anything. I did it perfect. Off taco perfect. Came the response.
Migoya, now appearing through the art of ninjutsu to look like the manager, quickly took his place and started to read through the cargo manifests. Hmmm…. There. 4 o’clock shipment to the prison.
“Hey… you. I need this palet on this wagonnow!” Migoya yelled at a passing worker. The man looked puzzled. “I err.. Im in the accounting depart..”
“I don't care - I need it moved! NOW” Migoya said in a scary, scary voice.
The man, clearly cowed by a lifetime of bullying, rapidly complied and put the palet right near to where the distribution wagon would pick it up. Part of Migoya felt sorry for him - perhaps if investigations were undertaken they would fall back on this guy. If that happened…
The cans were in place, the toxin within. Now - it was time to escape and wait.
WC: 1651
The dull rapping of fingers on the hard mahogany table echoed throughout the darkened room as shadows played on the walls, creating malformed beasts intent to devour each other. The cloying smell of some type of cigar lingered in the air, the remnants of its existence floating around the hazy room, only accentuating the darkened atmosphere of this, one of the Myakashi strongrooms.
The owner of the rapping fingers was thinking impatiently, his final cigar finished, as crimson eyes continued to look at blueprints that had been placed before him. This particular document had cost a fortune, and burned several favours to obtain. The building it outlined was old - far older than most of the structures in Fire Country, and so the schematics had been hard to come by. Luckily, with the advancement of technology and the installation of security measures, a blueprint had to be drawn up for those who were installing such features. Naturally such a document was closely guarded, and probably should have been destroyed after being used, but people were prideful beasts and wished to store and remember their greatest works.
Finding out who the contractors had been for the new installation had been easy, but trying to find the weak link - that one person willing to sell secure information - had been difficult. Placing Myakashi agents, in the guise of cleaners, had provided little information. It had taken a careful blend of observation, seduction, blackmail and bribery to reach a point where this blueprint was in front of him, but that's another story.
The issue now was what to do with it.
The gaol was impregnable. Certainly, a shinobi skilled as Migoya and his Myakashi agents could blast their way into the place, take that which they wanted, and escape relatively unharmed but that would completely negate the purpose of why this task was being undertaken. No - Migoya did not want any lives to be taken, nor any blame linked to Konoha or the Myakashi, which made this task even more difficult.
He had gazed over the blueprint for hours now - he had no need of sleep so that was not a problem - yet his mind grew weary at figuring out all the possible scenarios and coming up with one that worked. The walls had been protected by jutsu, patrolled by skilled shinobi and samurai, and there were no obvious weak points. This prison had been designed to contain the most powerful enemies of the state after all.
Time however was a critical factor. With Konoha in lockdown, the view of security was firmly placed towards the Land of Frost, providing the opportunity to strike quickly while the proverbial eye was elsewhere. Security detail had been moved from the prison to protect villages around the lands from possible Frost Shinobi attack, and in its weakened state now was the time to act against the prison.
Migoya stroked his pale chin, nodding to himself as the plan formed. The only way out of the prison for prisoners was death or the end of their sentence.
Death it was.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
For those who took up the profession of a med-nin the subtle enjoyment of healing and fixing the suffering of others caused a rush, but to others finding out how to injure, maim or illicit pain was more of a rush. To some, like Migoya, it was a mixture of the two but to the expert albino medic a particular interest lay in the form of botany, specifically its effects on the body. For decades Migoya had perfected his craft in secret, mostly using them to line the blades of his deadly puppet traps. However, his work with the Myakashi developed more sinister requirements of his skills.
“Yes… crush it. The Chloral Hegis should be mixed in well,” Migoya stated clearly as he instructed several clan members in the preparation of a particularly virulent form of lullaby powder. Normally that powder, inhaled, would cause the victim to fall asleep, and as such was used not only in battle but in a more potent form to anaesthetise patients during operations. The current batch had been tailored by Migoya to not only be potent, but to also add a crucial ingredient.
Migoya recalled a story he had once read of two lovers whose families had forbidden them from marrying. In order to continue their love, a plan had formed where one would appear to be dead, and - after a few days, would rise from the grave and secret away with her partner. The only issue was the lover was not informed of the plan and ended up killing himself. The first part of the plan was good however and had given Migoya the current idea.
A poison that would cause those who ate it to die, from a medical investigation standpoint, but return to life a few days later.
The creation of such a toxin was, at least to Migoya, relatively easy however how to distribute it to his intended targets posed a more difficult problem. Food preparation for the prisoners was handled in-house, and as such trying to place a Myakashi member in the kitchens would have held a significant risk. No… he needed to get to the sauce… I mean source.
The Ginko Tomato Farm (GTF copyrighted - Tasteeee Tomatoes!) Inc. was one of the suppliers of canned tomato paste, used in the stalwart prison food dish of ‘Spaghetti with Tomato paste’. Delicious. They also provided one of the few pre-made goods that entered into the prison, due to the low cost (and quality). And being a canned good, no-one tended to inspect the contents of the cans.
So - the mission was clear.
Step 1 - Infect the cans with the toxin, wait until the toxin spread and the medics were called.
Step 2 - enter as a medic with the other Myakashi posing alongside the real medical teams.
Step 3 -remove the ‘dead’ targets whilst helping the sick (administering the antidote), and leaving quickly.
Step 4 - watch as the blame solely placed on the poor preparation of GTF.
Ammatseru luck be with me…
---------------------------------------
“Mikki, tell the machine to draw from canister 5”, Migoya whispered to his wooden companion Mikki. The small puppet nodded and seemingly ‘spoke’ to the machine, exerting his tsukomojo on it, causing it to obey his whims and switch from using the grated celery to adding the toxin.
The pair had infiltrated the GTF alone, posing first as workers - Migoya being a master of disguise - then working their way into understanding how the automated systems worked at producing the special tomato sauce. It was an easy processes, though the look of the tomatoes that were being used sickened Migoya… but that was a good thing. A food poisoning scare from this company would be believable.
Six large canisters seemed to be attached together, pumping the necessary ingredients into a large vat where is was mixed, before being canned ready for shipment. Canister 5 seemed to have been full of carrots or something in the past, but budget cuts must of forced the business to downgrade the quality of their goods. Waiting until he was unseen, there being no security cameras in a tomato paste factory, he had summoned a large amount of the toxin from a handy scroll directly into the vat. Brief hand seals brought forth water to dilute the toxin to an effective level, enabling it to be added to the sauce easily, and leaving no residue behind.
Mikki’s prompting and control over inanimate objects had come in very handy as Migoya watched the machine start to pump the toxin into the mixture. The lack of staff here was disconcerting, but understandable as no-one wanted to watch a machine do the same thing over and over for hours. The mixture went in, and the batch started its way down the conveyor belt.
One task remained however.
Calling on the shadows to cloud him from sight, Migoya stealthy ran towards the docking bays. He had to ensure that this particular batch made its way to the prison - after all if it went to the local supermarket it would be funny, but not result in what he needed. A burly man with a clipboard (obviously making him official) was directing pallets of cans to different areas.
Migoya watched his movements carefully, whilst Mikki watched the canning process of the special sauce. It took around 20 minutes for the cans containing the substance to start to be packed into boxes and loaded onto pallets. Now was the time.
Migoya gave Mikki a wink, and the puppet turned its gaze to the poor distribution manager. The man’s face turned a shade of red as he crossed his legs, convinced via genjutsu that he really needed to use the bathroom. Putting the clipboard down on a nearby table, he ran towards the little boys room faster than a shinobi doing a missing run.
“I think you overdid it,” Migoya whispered with a grin.
I never overdo anything. I did it perfect. Off taco perfect. Came the response.
Migoya, now appearing through the art of ninjutsu to look like the manager, quickly took his place and started to read through the cargo manifests. Hmmm…. There. 4 o’clock shipment to the prison.
“Hey… you. I need this palet on this wagonnow!” Migoya yelled at a passing worker. The man looked puzzled. “I err.. Im in the accounting depart..”
“I don't care - I need it moved! NOW” Migoya said in a scary, scary voice.
The man, clearly cowed by a lifetime of bullying, rapidly complied and put the palet right near to where the distribution wagon would pick it up. Part of Migoya felt sorry for him - perhaps if investigations were undertaken they would fall back on this guy. If that happened…
The cans were in place, the toxin within. Now - it was time to escape and wait.
WC: 1651