Whoopie. [o]

[¯\_(ツ)_/¯]

The sun broke over the light scattering of clouds, the sharp rays heralding the arrival of noonday. A harsh wind blew through the village, blasting its residents with a small shower of dirt and grit, those that were unphased by the barrage were beaten into submission with the cruel, unrelenting heat that beat down on Iwagakure in waves, twisting the vision of pedestrians as it radiated off the ground.

Seeking a momentary shelter, along with many Iwagakure residents, Masaaki ducked into a small ramen shop, his black coat swirling as it cut away from the wind. With a sharp click, he snapped the black umbrella he always carried with him shut, blinking several times to adjust his eyes to the dim-lit shop. The scent of vegetables and noodles filled the air, and with a weary pace, he approached the short, wooden counter and slid into a stool.

"I'll have a small bowl, thanks."

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width:450px,bTable] [classy=template]The chime at the door jingled, heralding a new arrival. Regardless, Azumi's gaze did not sway; her green eyes remained staring off into space, musing through the dusted windowpane. Betwixt the the middle and forefinger of her upright eastern hand, a pencil was twirled idly; the girl's other hand nestled her cheek, propping her head above the bench top. Before her, an illustration of the scene outside was roughly sketched onto a piece of paper, and the girl's spectacles were aside, clasped neatly together. A drained bowl of soup sat next to them, emptied some time ago. Presently, Azumi latched onto another small, largely indistinct detail, and her pencil was busied for a moment. There had been only two residents of the establishment; Azumi, and her correlative. Said twin sat opposite the girl, their backs to one another. The shop had only two sitting areas; one facing outward, towards the window where Azumi sat (four seats), and inward, where the food was cooked (six seats). As for the latter, Junsuke was located there, two empty bowls stacked next to his central seat and another full one before him. Though he was eating carelessly, not a drop seemed to have stained his white shirt. His red eyes were never quite as ravenous as when he was satiating himself. This was the usual ritual. It was perhaps fortunate that Junsuke was only as good as eating in excess as his sister was at occupying herself. Junsuke had paused upon hearing the sound, head bowed, chopsticks halting near his mouth, dangling noodles from them; it was when the stranger dared sit down directly beside him that his head was lifted, the blood of his irises flaring anger. He did not even properly take in the newcomer's appearance before speaking. "Oi, dude, there're like ten other seats you could sit at; better pick one o' them, don'tcha think, fuckface?" Upon hearing the acerbic tone of her brother, Azumi was finally snatched from her reverie; she turned her head, observed the situation, groaned and fished for her glasses, sliding them on quickly. She turned in her seat and rose off of it. Today she had opted to wear a particularly light attire for the heat; a simple, short-sleeved turquoise shirt and a knee-length skirt of darker contrast, the overall result being that quite a bit of her tanned skin showed. Her pretty face could often look gentle and kind, but in this instance it was not so. Behind the expedient lenses of her spectacles, the girl's green eyes were punishing, and it took her only a few paces to make it to her brother and smack him sharply over his blonde head with an awkward face of her fist. Junsuke groaned and clutched at the infliction, and heard, "Shut up, idiot," From behind. Sighing at the back of his cowed head, Azumi turned towards the black-haired stranger and paused only a moment to observe his slightly crow-like visage. She was lost only a moment before she gathered herself, thinking that her brother was rather stupid to potentially infuriate the mildly daunting being. "Sorry about that. Been trying to teach him manners for sixteen years and he still doesn't get it," She apologized, and affectionately prodded the idiot in the back like the dumb animal he was. Releasing his grip on his head, Junsuke groaned and hunched over his soup, moodily returning to it and making a show of obstinately not looking up at the stranger while secretly snatching a glance or two. "Fuck off," Was barely audible. "I'm Aya," The girl introduced in a friendly turn, quite over her momentary trance, "And this is my brother..." She left a word hanging expectantly, and when Jun said nothing, she sharply elbowed him in the back. "Jun!" She resurrected from him painfully, causing him to grumble again. Azumi's cordial, greeting smile wore no sympathy for his discomfort. [newclass=template]text-align: justify; line-height: 12px; font-size: 11px;[/newclass][newclass=template b]font-family: georgia; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;[/newclass] [/style]

[¯\_(ツ)_/¯]

The chair selected barely had the time to finish its nails-on-chalkboard groan of protest before the Onigami's day was harshly soured. A coarse accent, as brutish as the man who sat, shoveling food into his mouth, uttered a stream of obscenities more befitting a mercenary barracks then the small shop. Thin lips curled, stretching back over teeth in a sardonic smile, as taunting as the words that followed. "I'll take yours, if you wish."

Coinciding with the arrival of his bowl, the ninja's attention shifted from the savage to his left, to the gently steaming soup in front of him. Pale hands, almost overly pale for an Iwagakure resident, curled around chopsticks, and he began eating in a relatively gentle manner; especially when one compared it to Junsuke's.

The approach of the girl was largely dismissed, the man merely flicking dull scarlet orbs over at the harsh sound of someone getting clubbed- something he'd known well from his childhood. Bemused, a soft chuckle, more of an overglorified exhale in truth, broke his steady eating for a moment, and the girl speaking to him broke it entirely.

Shifting slightly, he shifted his annoyed countenance from the ramen before him, to the girl to his left. A shoulder raised slightly in a shrug, only speaking after she had introduced herself and her brother. "Masaaki Oniguya. Pleasure, I'm sure." Introductions over, he turned back to his ramen, his dull eyes flaring for a brief moment as he examined the two intimately- noting that they weren't fully human- or at least normal human..

"What's special about you two?"

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width:450px,bTable] [classy=template]'Not the friendliest,' Azumi mused, furrowing her brow slightly as the stranger, apparently known as Masaaki, returned her greeting formally and with zero enthusiasm. One hand ended up on her hip. The pencil she had not dropped was twirled idly between the fingers of her hand, held loosely at her side. "Loner type, huh?" She reflected in disregard for how possibly offensive this could be. Private people annoyed her. Jun was now shifting uncomfortably; this Masaaki character seemed far more intimidating than initially calculated, and no longer did the boy wish to be sat beside him, especially not since he had again been shown up by his bitch sister. When the chef, paying little attention to the repartee of his customers, turned to Jun to collected the conclusion of his three-course meal, Junsuke raised a bony hand in halting. "A fourth," He declared proudly, and, as the cook reckoned with this breaking of the norm but nodded more politely than was deserved and retreated, Junsuke shifted his seat one over as smoothly as possible, and sat there, his stack of bowls now lying to his left, and receded down onto moodily crossed arms. Azumi briefly tussled with the idea of sitting between them, but the invisible net of tension that hung in the air there stopped her. She sighed slightly. Men. "What's special about you two?" Asked the stranger abruptly, turning both of the twin's gazes towards him, even though they were not privy to Masaaki's own. The weirdest thing was, it was hardly even a question and more of a demand. Azumi looked towards her brother, and Jun's red eyes clashed with her own green gaze. "Don'tchu fuckin' dare," He threatened, gritting his teeth. This, of course, only encouraged the girl; she smiled slyly and deftly skipped over to where her brother sat; though he threw his arms up and flailed defensively at her approach, the girl allowed her right extremity to burn with chakra, breaking her body down at the molecular level, till only the mystical energy truly held her together, and plunged her hand through the boy's nape. However alarming this may have been, Junsuke did not appear even slightly injured, and merely growled as a fourth bowl was set down in front of him; he busied himself with that. Smiling fondly, Azumi extracted her hand from her brother's neck and instead embraced him fully from behind. Jun made out as though she was not even there. From her position, lying comfortably upon Jun's shoulder, the artisan looked towards Masaaki. "We're twins," She informed him. "And are technically a part of the same body. We can merge at will," Then, without breaking the stare, she raised her pencil-bearing hand. "Also, I can draw crazy good," And smiled further. "Why the fuck does 'e need to know that?" Jun demanded, raising his head indignantly; Azumi exploited her clutch on his neck and contracted it, tightening her jaw and causing her brother to return to his meal coughing and spluttering. [newclass=template]text-align: justify; line-height: 12px; font-size: 11px;[/newclass][newclass=template b]font-family: georgia; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;[/newclass][newclass=template i]font-family: georgia; font-decoration: italic;[/newclass] [/style]

[¯\_(ツ)_/¯]

Loner type, huh?

His fingers paused on the chopsticks, thin fingers curled around the coarse wood but not lifting as he hesitated, a slow smirk pulling at his pale lips, equal parts sarcastic and sad. "Could say that. Recent, ah, death in the family, so I'm not my normal happy-go-lucky self." a voice, full of a dark humor at the world and a certain lack of sorrow.

Eyes flashed to the left, roving over the uncomfortable boy with amusement. He declaration of a fourth pushed Masaaki from his reverie, and he resumed eating as he listened to the girl sigh slightly, leaving him only to guess at which of the two it was aimed at. A small chuckle rose in his throat, the two people to his left proving an amusing distraction from the rest of the trails that begged his mind.

It was here he spoke, muffled around the noodles crammed into his mouth, and then, swallowing, turned to raise an eyebrow at the still-standing woman who'd proved herself to be the more vocal of the duo. What followed would've certainly left the him choking on the noodles had he still had some in his mouth; he'd seen many surprising things- his brothers techniques were often a gory display- but this held a certain.. oddity about them that set it apart. Blinking twice, he pursed his lips, a laugh playing across them.

"'Cause its obviously the most important bit, isn't it?" was the bemused reply to Jun's question, before Masaaki continued. "You both shinobi, then? Or counted as one?"

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width:450px,bTable] [classy=template]A death in the family had Azumi suddenly hugging Junsuke with a bit more solemnity, and her expression was quickly overcast, her green eyes dulled. Family was important to the both of the twins; even Junsuke, beneath her clutch, felt some moroseness seep into him, till he did not even look that aggravated any longer, and did not resist her presence; merely continued to sip at his noodles in silence, adorned by his sibling as he was. While he would not mock Masaaki, he would also not offer any sympathies; Junsuke had a preciously short supply of those. A less intimidating and more of an age individual Azumi may have elected to embrace in turn at that point in time, but Masaaki did not seem as though he would appreciate it, so she refused the urge. It was Junsuke, however, who answered the question. "As two." Was all he said, offering little inflection as to his thoughts on the matter. It was then that he took his bowl in hand, for it had been emptied of solid contents; obligingly, Azumi released him and stepped backward, perfectly synchronizing with the backward tilt of Junsuke's head. He drained his bowl and stacked it with the others, dropping his chopsticks into it from an unnecessary height. "Yeah. Two." Azumi confirmed mildly from her standing position. Junsuke swiveled a hundred and eighty degrees in his seat, and laid backward onto the desk top, arms creating a nest for his head so he was able to stare at the ceiling in relative comfort, figuring his sister would not want to leave for some time yet, now that there was a troubled stranger about. "Shut up, bitch," He breathed as he did so. "Ain't need you to confirm shit." Azumi's eyes flared with playful indignation; her hands went to her hips, and she considered jabbing the boy in his now well-exposed gut - Junsuke would never, ever learn - but for some reason decided not to. Then she huffed a sigh, remembering the third party. She turned her bespectacled vision upon him, sober now. "I'm sorry for your loss," She bestowed; perhaps they were clichéd words, but Azumi weighed them with meaning nonetheless. "No kiddin'..." Jun would even sigh from his slump. "...Do you want to talk about it?" The illustrator would then offer, her smile and tone alike small and yet sincere. She figured maybe Masaaki didn't do that, a lot: The talking thing. Sometimes it was the quiet ones who wished to talk more than anyone. [newclass=template]text-align: justify; line-height: 12px; font-size: 11px;[/newclass][newclass=template b]font-family: georgia; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;[/newclass][newclass=template i]font-family: georgia; font-decoration: italic;[/newclass] [/style]