[Closed] Disentangled Roots [Lexi]

[Hisoka]

SPOILER: Click to show

Private RP thread for myself and Lexi

‘Oh, we know a great place where you can get Bastit,’ they’d said.

‘Tons of Blackroot too! It’s an easy hike that way,’ they’d lied.

When he’d first starting walking toward this “swamp shack”, he’d naively hoped that it would be more parts shack to swamp. Unfortunately, it was extremely swampy. He was now almost two hours out of the village center by foot, and each of his steps sank with a sickening squelch into some vile mixture of moss water and mud. These swamp lands defiled the edges of Kumogakure’s forested regions, and Hisoka deeply regretted his decision to trek into these lands.

However, he had already suffered him way a good while into the swamp, and just when he thought, ‘it’s not worth it; I’m going home and I’m showering until I die,’ he caught sight of what must be the shack. He saw it in profile – a rickety looking old thing being held over the putrid swamp waters by two wooden beams – and frowned. This is what he’d trekked all the way out here for? This run down little shack was what he’d been harassed by merciless insects for hours now and endured this wasteland’s putrid stench for? Hisoka looked up at the skies – or rather, he would be looking at the skies had they not been so heavily obstructed by swamp vegetation – and sighed. He wasn’t a religious man, but he sent up a silent prayer for this to be a swift exchange to any and every deity possibly listening, and promised to convert and be a dedicated follower of any being that successfully rid him and his clothes of this place’s rancid odor when this was all said and done.

As Hisoka neared the shack from the ground, he looked down at himself. The journey had been worse on him than he’d expected or wanted. His previously tan pants had taken on a terribly muddy hue from the shin down, that portion of the pant leg having become uncomfortably damp. His boots were in simply disgusting shape, with unidentifiably chunks and smudges all over them. Looking down at his feet made Hisoka sigh. He’d have to seriously wash them at a later date, and that was not a task that he was looking for to working on. Beneath his brown cloak, Hisoka’s mandolin was protected and slung across his back, and his shirt was clinging to his body, moist from perspiration from trying not to fall while hiking through this forsaken place. He’d considered bringing his Tanto with him, but in the end left them behind at his home. He had them, but he wasn’t actually very good with them yet, and sometimes he worried he’d just hurt himself with them, so it made sense to leave them behind. He did bring, however, his shuriken and kunai in his butt bag just in case.

“Tsk, as if you can even use those properly,” Hisoka muttered to himself, annoyed with how terribly, utterly defeated he would be in whoever resided in this shack wasn’t an herb seller, and was actually in fact a psychopathic killer. He knew a simple genjutsu, the Curse of the Putrid Husk, and he thought that if push really came to shove, that one would fit right in with this terrible place. He was considering this as he approached the door to the shack. His chakra was swirling uneasily in his gut, and he pinched the cloth of his shirt and cloak at his chest, pulling it away from him and despising the way the material stuck to him before being peeled off of his skin. “Truly disgusting,” he said to himself in disdain before bringing his knuckles against the wooden door in a few hard, rapid knocks.

His hand fell back down to his side as he waited. All Hisoka wanted was to get in, get some Blackroot and Bastit, and get home. Standing here and no longer moving around, the smell of rot and decay was beginning to settle in the air closest to him. He felt like this place was trying to suffocate him, so he felt as though he couldn't be blamed for lifting a hand to hold the top edge of his cloak over his nose while he stood in front of the door and waited for someone to answer the door. ‘Please,’ he silently prayed to the heavens, ‘please let someone who has what I need be in there.’

[Lexi]

She was jolted awake, and she didn't know what by. It took Ran a moment to orient herself to her surroundings; the dim light of the gas lamp from the corner, the feel of several thin blankets wrapped around her, shielding her from the damp cool of the swampland and the hardness of the floor. She was in her room, she realised after a second, and after another she knew what had woken her up.

"No, no!" The girl reeled back, sputtering, and stared at her attacker. A boot mauler, a small, slug-like creature that tended to hang around the forest, lay at her feet, looking almost offended at having been knocked back by her kicking. It had been gnawing at the blankets, trying to get at her toes, and they ached in way that told her that they would be rimmed red in the morning with bite-marks, but she counted herself lucky she even had all her toes. In a second, the animal poised to strike again, the tendrils at its mouth fluttering with what she could only guess was hunger.

Ran batted at it with her nearest sheet, knowing it was futile, then, without waiting for the its second approach, she hopped up from her bed, rushed to her stack of shoes, under her sink, and hastily pulled on her thickest pair.

She had avoided losing any appendages to the creatures so far, if only because she hadn't done things like fall asleep with one in her room. The slug was nowhere to be seen for now, but Ran had no doubt that it was hiding somewhere. Swamp creatures never faltered. I just have to wait it out. Wait it out. Then, she could sleep.

-

Long after the sun had come up, Ran stood statue in a corner of the room, kunai in hand. After waking up, she'd had the presence of mind to pull on her hat, and was now dressed in a washed out, yellow, cotton sleeping tunic, her usual, grotesque hat, and heavy, black boots. She had had 'visitors' like this one before, but most of them weren't this persistent. Still, she wasn't going to lose her shack to a bug. Every slight sound made her twitch, and she was sure she'd seen the familiar, slightly off shade of wood-brown at least ten times in the seven hours she'd been awake. Her eyes felt heavy, but right as they would droop downward slightly, a slimy sound would pry them awake again. She was beginning to envy the people who lived in the village, with their cushy houses, and soft, furry mammal pets.

There was a knock on her door, and her muscles went rigid. She looked toward the arch that led to the house's front room, confused. After a second, the gears in her head whirred into place, and she practically marched into the front room. Food was just what she needed in this moment, and if the kid, Akiko, had brought some, then maybe she could get the energy to catch the thing. Hefting the door open, she looked down, excited to see a beautiful bento holding a young boy, when...

Now, who was this? Not her lunch, that was for sure. The person in front of her was taller than her by at least an inch, had sandy, curled locks instead of black ones, freckles all over her face, and, more importantly than any of that, was completely empty-handed.

Why? Why now? Why did people just come to her house? And why had some kid found it in himself to knock on her door at this particular moment? Without food?

Nearly scowling, she gave him a second look-over. He was a genin, at most. The few senior ninja she'd ever seen around her shack had at least attempted not to look disturbed by the swamp smell. Despite looking nothing like Akiko, he had the same baby face, like a mocking parody; false hope.

Feeling drained, she contemplated how best to tell him to buzz off and come back with food, but as she opened her mouth, her words caught in her throat. If he'd made the journey from the village to the swamp, which the nice, muddy clothes told her he had, he might have had some expensive village technology to help her catch the thing, like bug spray. On the other hand, he could be hostile and have a gang of his friends with him. She couldn't sense anyone in the area around, but she also wasn't a tracker. She would risk ambush for a sure chance at food, but to catch a bug? Ranako stared down at his boots, weighing her options.

"I hope those are- I hope they're thick." Decided, she opened the door halfway, giving the boy a partial view of the dimly-lit shack. She had two darts in her one boot and a kunai in the other, and they were in swamp territory. If it came to it, she could use water jutsu. For now, she would hope he at least intended to help. Before she could begin to explain the dilemma, the Boot Mauler went trailing past her field of vision in its stupidly quick pace, and she cringed, berating herself for not taking out a kunai then and there. After a moment, she looked back at the boy, her heavy-rimmed eyes narrowed. She opened the door another sliver, enough for him to see one of the baskets of herbs she had inside, then stepped back, inviting him inside.

"You want- you want herbs, right? Do you mind earning them?"

[Hisoka]

When he’d prayed that someone would answer the door, maybe he hadn’t been specific enough. It seemed to him that the universe had taken liberties with just who would answer his knocking, for the person that scowled at him from the doorway somehow greatly resembled a toad. She was clearly a girl, sure, but her eyes were unsettlingly large eyes that gave him a critical once over. It occurred to him that he was certainly not a person she was expecting to see, nor was it likely that she was seeing him as a friendly visitor any more than as a threatening one. Her skin was pale, making her look almost sickly to Hisoka when combined with her thin stature and the fact that he was looking down at her from a good inch and half at least.

Most of all, though, she seemed on edge, and Hisoka couldn’t assume that that was entirely his doing. Stranger or not, he knew himself enough to know that he wasn’t that imposing a figure, and now that he was considerably tired from his journey here and sticky from the swamp humidity, he was sure that something must have gotten this long haired shack dweller agitated. Her unease made similar feelings brew in his own gut, unfortunately, and Hisoka didn’t appreciate it. He hated feeling like he had reason to look over his shoulder, but look over his shoulder he did when the girl seemed hesitant about what to say to him. When he looked back, she was looking downward, so natural his gave too fell to the floor. Was she staring at his boots? Or maybe she was caught by the extremely dirtied state of the bottom of his pants. His lip curled unhappily at the visual reminder that his pant legs were currently saturated in repulsive swamp fluids and rubbing against his poor skin.

"I hope those are- I hope they're thick." Hisoka looked back up at the final sound of speech from the girl, relieved that she could and would speak a language he understood. His attention was caught immediately by the markings on either side of her mouth, and he looked at them while she spoke instead of at her eyes. They just reminded him of a toad all the more, though he tried not to swell on this fact. Instead, he considered how she had repeated a couple of her words when she’d spoken, almost like a mild stutter. Though he didn’t know why, he again got the feeling that she was distressed for some reason that was beyond him, and again it didn’t sit well with him. The chakra in his system and his muscles alike were starting to feel antsy.

“My boots?” he asked for clarification that he didn’t really need, glancing down again. When he looked back up, she had opened her door to him just slightly, and he could peer in just enough to catch the blurred motion of something slopping it’s way across the old wood flooring of the shack. His jaw dropped open just slightly. When the girl in front of him opened the door wider and revealed the herbs she had inside, Hisoka was about sure that at least one of those was something he needed. However, then she asked if he was willing to earn them, and he turned his sandy eyes on her and narrowed them slightly.

“Got a pest problem?” he asked, walking past her and into the shack, his hands swinging nonthreatening at his sides. “I imagine that’s a common problem for someone like you out here,” he commented. It wasn’t as though he were trying to be rude, but as he looked around the shack, he could tell that it was an incredibly old establishment. It was breaking and rotting in almost any given place his eyes could land. Having lived on the streets of Kumogakure for the first many years of his life, he knew well what it meant to survive under poor living conditions, but… Well, even he would have preferred the dirty side alleys on his past to this place.

“As long as you’ve got Bastit and Blackroot, I suppose I’ll do what I can to help.” He looked over his shoulder at her. He knew that she was debating trusting him, and he hoped that leaving his back open to her would help her relax. Tense strangers were more likely to attack him, and the last this Hisoka wanted was to fight in this setting and in his current condition. He’d take the chance of leaving his guard down to this girl if it meant she might loosen up as well. Besides, more important to him than the girl behind him was the unknown creature sliming it’s way around this shack. He didn’t know what it was or what it was doing, but he knew he didn’t want it anywhere near him.

[Lexi]

As the boy's freckled face took on a look of surprise at the bug behind her, Ran felt, somehow, venerated. Maybe it'd been years of noticing her own growing paranoia, but something in the back of her head had told her she'd been over-reacting about the situation. It felt almost good to hear otherwise.

    "Got a pest problem?”

I wish I did. She thought, tensing as the boy slipped past her and into the shack. Getting the next few words out was a chore. "They're usually more friendly. Friendly."

It was true. Most of the swamp creatures were harmless, and the occasional man-eating fiends were supposedly taken care of by the traps Kiku had set however many years back. The only reason she knew that they still worked was that she still had all her limbs- an accomplishment in Kumo's bogs.


At this close, she got a look at his garb. His clothes were drenched in mud and decay, his boots having gotten the worst of it. Comparatively, she was downright immaculate; her nightgown was obviously worn, but it was also thoroughly washed, as was she. Her boots were free of mud, as well- the pair she wore outside were still in the sink, having been soaking overnight in an attempt to get most of the muck of of them. His messy state that was no surprise, though. What struck her was that he had turned her back to her, he'd left himself almost completely prone. She stared for a second, bewildered, waiting for him to realise his mistake, but he only continued talking- like he meant to put his guard down. Weird. Was turning your back to someone you'd just met in such a dubious situation a social norm that she'd missed on? Or was he just not in the know? Either way, it put her at the advantage. An imprint through his clothes caught her eye. With his cloak slick with sweat and swamp mud, she could very clearly make out the outline of a large instrument strapped against his back. A lute, or a sangen? She didn't know, only that an instrument that large should have some sort of value.

She considered taking it then and there. I could finance food for a... a month. Two? Three? I could buy more weapons, and make people-traps for the house. I could- Get caught? The boy would would notice right away, and then she'd have to fight him. They were both only genin, and they were in her territory, but he was bigger, and even if she did win; well, she had nowhere to run, and she didn't know who he'd told about his exposition. What would she do when his friends came around? She silently wished she'd met him somewhere more crowded, and that his instrument was much smaller, and less noticeable. 

Maybe he wasn't socially inept, then- she couldn't rob him if she tried. He was smart, and probably had the upper hand. She tensed her shoulders and finally stepped inside, eyeing him warily.

Once they were both through the entrance way, she yanked the door shut behind them. The tunic she used for sleeping was not meant for the cool, damp climate outside, and goosebumps were rising on her skin. Having seen enough people visit to know the familiar, uncomfortable feeling that crossed his face as he had looked down at his clothes. With the way they were, he would probably catch something on his way back home. She, meanwhile, had about ten makeshift towels. If she couldn't have his lute, then maybe she could have his sympathy.

"I'll get you something to dry- to dry yourself off. Just wait- wait one second." Turning, she left the room, steps only slightly stilted. One good thing about living in a shack was that there wasn't anything to steal.

In the bedroom, she tore a piece off one of her sleeping blankets with a kunai. After a moment's hesitation, she cut another to tie around his mouth- he would need his hands free to help catch the thing, after all. As she bent to cut the other piece, a small, dark, wood-coloured mollusc slicked past her. The cloth fell from her hand. It slithered into the main room and, by the time she had reached the exit, was at the boy's feet.

If whatever-his-name-was couldn't move away in time, there'd be another dilemma on her hands. Her aim wasn't good enough to hit it in one go, and she doubted the visitor would appreciate a hole in his foot. On the other hand, she could get rid of the Boot Mauler. She could go to sleep, and her sheets had been really, really tempting. She hesitated, and let indecision get the best of her, again.

"You might want to move. Move." She said, poising the kunai at his feet, then, for clarification, "They eat toes."

[Hisoka]

Hisoka’s eyes flitted behind him when he heard her do it again – repeat herself. By now, he was figuring it to be something of a social tick of hers. He considered mentioning it, but upon further thought, decided against it. People didn’t typically like being called out on their social abnormalities, and while she didn’t seem exactly typical, he didn’t feel like testing her nerves just at the moment. Her words had sounded forced after all, like she still wasn’t at ease with his presence despite his attempt at using disarming body language to placate her anxiety. For a moment, he doubted himself, wondering if he was using body language incorrectly – it wasn’t as though this was something anyone had taught him in his youth – but no, he was sure this was how normal people did it. Well, he was almost sure.

Regardless, she was still hesitating behind him in the doorway. Hisoka could practically feel her eyes on his back, and while his gut instinct was to turn around and address her prying eyes, he forced his attention to his surroundings. He’d come all this way; he could be patient while she felt him and the situation out. It seemed wholly unnecessary to him, but he supposed that if he lived seemingly alone in a terribly beaten up shack in the depths of this murky wasteland, he’d be cautious of uninvited strangers too. So, because he wanted something from her, he didn’t rush her. He just let him eyes roam around the small home.

Aside from the cracking walls and the mold and moss growing in corners and up walls, there wasn’t much that caught his eye. Over all, his gaze just kept sweeping over vegetation that was possibly alive and getting closer to him by the second. It was almost enough to send a wave of moderate disgust shuddering down his spine, but not quite. He held himself together. On one of the walls, he caught sight of what looked like a crudely drawn portrait, scribbled onto a piece of paper with what looked like crayon of some sort. It was stuck to the wall by way of a rusty nail, and it had several holes and tears in it, as if someone had been using the picture for target practice. He frowned ever so slightly, but didn’t have long to dwell uneasily on this before the girl spoke up again from behind him after closing the door, evidently done deciding if he was a threat or not.

    “I’ll get you something to dry- to dry yourself off. Just Wait- wait one second.”

Hisoka watched her walk off into the only other room of the shack as far as he could tell, amused by the way her steps were just a little halted and off beat. He guessed that she still didn’t trust him to be alone entirely, but no doubt the thought that there wasn’t much for him to steal here even if those were his intentions ran through her mind. She left him standing in the middle of the room, disappearing in the other, and the corner of Hisoka’s mouth turned up ever so slightly. There was something considerably entertaining about this girl, and Hisoka appreciated entertainment more than just about anything else in this dull life.

So, he stood and waited. He didn’t touch anything save for his own shirt as he pulled it again from sticking to his chest. It was cool outside, but it’d only made his sweat cold as he’d slogged through the marsh. The fact that his host was in the other room getting something for him to clean up with was a relief to Hisoka. He’d not expected it, but he certainly wouldn’t turn it down if she was going to offer it. Turning where he stood in the center of the room to continue inspecting the various herbs and substances around the room, Hisoka found himself facing the doorway to the only other room in the shack when a slug-like creature slipped out and headed toward him.

He watched it approach with faintly widened eyes. He liked creatures in general, but this was slimy and foreign to him. He was both fascinated and revolted by it, and both emotions served to almost trap him in a daze as he inspected the thing. However, in very little time the creature had gotten honestly far too close for comfort, and it was just as his host advised him to move that he’d taken a large step to the right and out of the slug’s line of trajectory.

    “They eat toes,” she said, and Hisoka couldn’t help but throw her a true look of dismay before turning his eyes back on the creature.

Although he had moved out of it’s direct line, it made a sharp turn and started toward him again. His brows furrowed. It was evident that this thing wanted his toes, and now he realized why the toad girl had hoped his boots were thick. That’d been for the safety of his toes. Hisoka danced around the slug again, realizing as it quickly turned and followed him again with it’s jaw opened and it’s hideous mouth tendrils failing about as it expressed it’s desire to feast on his feet, that his boots were not at all thick enough for this game that they were playing. If that thing caught up with him, he’s toes would be in trouble, and trouble was not what he came for. 

In fact, this was about the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

Hisoka jumped away from the creature, although this time instead of just dodging it again, Hisoka brought his hands up and together, forming signs. He felt his chakra wake up inside of him, stirred into action by his movements and mindset. He focused on the bug as it made it’s way toward him, and before it could get within a good few meters of him, his chakra was at full attention and power. “Sensory Deprivation,” he said calmly, not taking his eyes off of the creature as he felt his genjutsu take effect. Immediately, the creature jerked in it’s slippery path. It appeared that with all it’s senses cut off, the thing didn’t know what to do.

Hisoka stood up straight again, glancing toward his host but not lowering his hands. “Did you want to kill this thing?” he asked, looking back at the creature. He’d cut off all of it’s senses, essentially plunging it into darkness. For now it was still, but in the past, animals that Hisoka practiced this jutsu on sometimes went into horrified frenzies; that happened quite often actually. Hisoka wouldn’t be surprised if this stillness was little more than the calm before a storm of panic, and if that happened, he didn’t want to be accidentally bumped into by the thing.

[Lexi]

She noticed that the sandy-haired guest didn't seem to be taking the pest too seriously, until after her comment. She supposed there was no way for him to know any better, coming from the village, but she was also seriously beginning to fear for the boy's toes. Genin or not, though, he had the reflexes of a trained ninja. She didn't waste a moment as he started up his dance with the creature. He darted to the left, then the right, and Ran aimed her kunai as carefully as she could. The movement was too much for her to keep up with, though, and she silently cursed both herself for not training enough and her guest for not standing still.

Just as pulled her arm back, ready to settle for a shot that would probably hit, the boy brought his hands to his chest in a familiar pattern. Hand seals? Ranako's first thought for taking care of the Boot Mauler wouldn't have been jutsu, but she supposed ninja techniques came in more forms than just water and earth manipulation.

The mud-caked boy's face twisted into an expression of intense focus, and she readied her knife, in case the jutsu failed and she was going to have to lob the kunai at them both, anyway.

    "Sensory deprivation."

It wasn't something she had much experince with, and certainly not in the glamour range of jutsu she was most familiar, but she recognised the name of the genjutsu almost instantly. She stared him down as he stared down the slug, as if his movements would give away the secrets of the technique, but her eyes were pried, forcefully, to the Boot Mauler, as it stopped dead in its tracks.

"Sensory deprivation." She repeated, hollowly, then again, with a tinge of awe. She had only ever been mildly interested in genjutsu before- so maybe eleven year old Ranako had had a veiled interest in grossing people out- but she was sure the way the slug went blank in the eyes before going limp would stay with her, and there was something grimly enticing about being able to cause the same effect at will...

She turned back to the boy, and this time, he spoke, still in a combat stance.

    "Do you want to kill this thing?"

Ran pondered for a moment. Did she? By all means, it was a pest, and she'd seen Boot Maulers before, if none this persistent. She should have gotten rid of it. Somehow, though, she didn't want to- maybe because the trancing body of the mollusc felt like a token. For what, she couldn't say- she hadn't exactly done much to kill it- but it still felt important.

"Yes. Yes. I think I can sell its' eggs or something." She lied, and the lilt in her voice probably giving her away. Despite living in the swamp, she knew precious little about swamp animals. It was, once again, something Kiku had specialised in; she was glad this genin was in a similar position. Now that the action was over, Ran was beginning to feel a bit hollow; how little did she know about her own home? Maybe it was time to move on- to take the shinobi way of life more seriously, like the hyper kids in her class used to say, over and over again.

Questions swirled in her head, and she tried her best to answer them, but tiredness had slowed her down, and she only kept thinking in circles. It was a moment or two before she cautiously put out her hand and accepted the bug. Who knew, maybe its' eggs were good? If all else failed, she could skin it and use its' husk as jewelry.

It took her a moment to remember what the boy had come to the shack for, and she deflated even more when she saw the basket.

"Bastit, was it?" She walked over to the herbs' receptacle and picked one out of the stack: a distinctive red and pink flower that looked nothing like what someone would find in a swamp. It was one of the few she knew the actual purpose for, and only because of its distinctive colour.

"These get rid of parasites, but you know that right- right? They last for..." She scowled in concentration. "...a day. Or two." She held it up to give the boy a better look, then pulled two more from the pile and rest them on the table, before, after a moment's contemplation, leaning down to pull a dart from her boot, and pinning the slug to the table. That seemed to bring it out of its trance, as it gave a loud screech and flailed its tendrils wildly, unable to get away. She looked at the flailing creature, searching herself for the triumphant feeling that should have been there. What is it, then?

Something was nagging at her, and she didn't know what. After staring at the blank-eyed Boot Mauler for a minute, she realised what it was.

"When did you graduate- graduate the Academy?" She asked, without preamble, narrowing her eyes, "I don't recognise you." If they'd graduated at different times, then he must have been one early bloomer. That said, even in her experience, he had one of the least distinctive faces she'd seen in a while, save the freckles, so maybe she had missed him in the frenzy of new faces. She didn't know if she could work around his mind games, but if he needed more herbs, maybe the seemingly wealthy genjutsu user would be a potential source of income.

[Hisoka]

Trapping a creature in a genjutsu was something that Hisoka had only been doing for a couple of years now. He didn’t feel like a master by any means of this type of jutsu, but he felt comfortable in it. He knew that if he was going to pursue training in anything other than medical, it’d be genjutsu. These jutsu were the least directly combative for him, so they came the easiest. There was something special about them – at least for now and for him – that he made him relish every instant in which he used genjutsu. He’d dropped his hands back to his sides and relaxed his body, though he kept enough attention on the bug not to release it from his trap.

It was hard to explain, but Hisoka felt connected to every subject of his genjutsu. It was as if his chakra extended from his body and enveloped his target without ever leaving his own person – like if he could visibly see his chakra, he would be able to see it connecting him to whomever had fallen under his spell of sorts. So when his host accepted the mollusk and carried it away from him, he could almost feel an invisible pull on his center to follow.

She’d said that she thought she could sell it’s eggs, but Hisoka wasn’t at all convinced. Her tone of voice sounded too… dramatized, like a character on stage playing a character far happier and more positive than the actor themselves. As she turned to look at her stock of herbs, Hisoka squinted his eyes at her back, his gaze falling to her feet and flicking back up as he wondered why she’d feel the need to lie about her intentions with the bug. Maybe it was actually a pet of hers, and she didn’t want him to hurt it but also didn’t want to admit her fondness of it. People were sometimes embarrassed of their pets and objects of affection for some reason, weren’t they?

Regardless, she brought up Bastit, and Hisoka remembered why he’d come all this way in the first place. He walked over to stand where she stood pulling flowers from the baskets. He nodded in answer to her question about his already knowing what the herb was good for. He was happy to see that she had some, and even more so to watch her pull a couple for him and set them aside. He opened his mouth to ask about Blackroot, but was stopped before a word could escape him by the girl’s stabbing through the slug with a dart and shattering whatever connection he’d been holding onto with the small thing. He flinched at the action, though the movement was minute and would have been easily missed. It wasn’t that he’d felt for the bug, but his chakra snapping back to him so suddenly had taken him slightly by surprise.

He watched passively as the creature struggle in vain, feeling neither happiness at it’s suffering nor a desire to help it or end it’s pain. He watched it with mildly interested indifference – interested in the way it thrashed about but indifferent to it’s agony – for a few moments. Yes, he wanted to collect his herbs and go home, but he was also one to stop and smell the roses along the way. This time, the roses happened to take form in a fast dying Boot Mauler, and the sweet floral aroma in the shape of an opportunity to observe how badly this little life form wanted to stay alive.

     “When did you graduate- graduate the Academy? I don’t recognize you.”

Her voice caught his eyes’ attention, and he looked at her in time to see her own gaze narrowing in what might be suspicion. Hisoka couldn’t see why that was important, but he tiled his head back and forth and looked upward as he though back.

“Mmm… about two years ago?” he said, though the inflection of his voice curled up at the end of his statement and made it sound more like a question than a fact. “If we were there at the same time, then I’m sorry that I don’t recognize you. I don’t really like people very much, so I don’t make unnecessary acquaintances.” Hisoka then looked back at the girl and smiled, his eyes practically closing completely in the expression. “I’m Hisoka, though.” He offered his hand then, palm up and hovering between himself and his host. He wanted to know her name, because he didn’t know of anyone else who could provide him with Bastit and other swamp herbs, and he sure as hell didn’t want to have to dig around this hell-hole to find these things himself. It was his hope that this girl would become a valuable supplier of medicinal herbs for him, so he planned on making at least some attempt at gaining her trust.

“I’m also looking for Blackroot, if you’ve got any,” he added, opening his eyes again and glancing at the red and pink Bastit on the table once more before looking toward the basket of various other herbs. He didn’t have a very extensive knowledge of swamp vegetation, but it looked to him like this grey haired toad girl had a great variety at her disposal. He wouldn’t be surprised at all if many of them could be used for healing purposes. More interesting to him yet was just how many of them could be made into poisons. Sure, he wanted to learn how to keep some entertaining individuals alive, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t mind a few discreet, sly methods of self defense under his sleeve as well!

[Lexi]

The lethargy that had all but been assaulting her minutes ago came back in waves as Ran listened the boy's statements. Two years ago. There had been a nagging doubt in the back of her mind, telling her that, just maybe, this 'genin' was a genjutsu master, and that the last few minutes- Boot Mauler and all- had been the result of an advanced technique. Now, that had all but washed away, leaving her to her exhaustion. There was no ultra-talented genjutsu star in the year above her in the academy, and she didn't think he was lying. Whether it was because of exhaustion, or his own charisma, Ran couldn't tell, and she honestly didn't care. Her sheets, one room over, were inviting her, and the bags under her eyes were practically screaming to her, now. She forced herself to stay and listen to rest of his conversation, still standing over at the table, next to her squirming prize.

    "I don’t really like people very much, so I don’t make unnecessary acquaintances.”

Her first thought, ditto was drowned out by the sound of Ryo signs appearing in her head. She clutched her hand around the table's wooden edge, but tried to school her face into something stoic, and not... well, greedy. So, I'm a 'necessary acquaintance'. Necessary meant repeated visits; and repeated visits meant regular paychecks, and without the hellishly long trek into the village for missions.

Then, suddenly, her paycheck broke out into a smile, and she remembered that in these things- business deals, she thought, with a bit of a thrill- it was necessary to follow certain social norms. Politeness, namely. She pried herself away from the table over to the guest, feeling her bed sheets getting farther away, and awkwardly dragged her hand up to his and clasped it.

    "I’m Hisoka, though."

"Right." Names were important to them, too, though she would have been just as content with not referring to him as anything. He wanted Blackroot, too. Ran repeated his introduction, too tired to formulate something original, and replaced his name with her own. "I'm Rana-Ran. Ran." The smile she gave slipped a bit into smirk territory, but she hoped he would blame it on the tiredness that probably showed on her face.

She noted, as she pulled her hand away, that though his fingers were tough (from the instrument, probably) his hands were soft, even for a genin. She figured that meant that he relied on genjutsu and either ninjutsu, or something else, rather than the more traditional, physical route. Medicine, maybe? He did want herbs. She filed that information away to process at a later date, settling on it being a good sign, for now.

With the chore of introductions over, she walked sluggishly past the weakly struggling Boot Mauler and over to a shelf in the corner of the room. The contents were just out of her sight, and she had to stand on her toes to pull another, similarly woven basket of herbs from on top of it. The contents of this one contained a slightly different variety of flowers, roots and plants than the last, but a small assortment of Blackroot was clearly visible near the top. With the limited information she had on the herbs, her guess for how many the boy needed was as good as anyone's, but she noted that the stack had shrunken over the years it had been around, so she tentatively took a single one from the pile and placed it on the table, next to the old basket, giving him what she hoped was a meaningful look. If one was skimping a bit, then he would, hopefully, assume that this meant that he should come back with a better trade-off, and she could take the time he was gone to rummage through her old books and find information on Blackroot.

"Come again." She said finally, giving another grin-smile that reached her dark eyes. As she did, she genuinely found her mood lifting. The draft coming into the shack felt pleasantly cool on her skin. She had gotten free pest control, a long-term source of income, and had avoided making the bad decision of stabbing someone in the foot and stealing their probably-unsellable instrument. It was a good day.

Her eyes were lilting by now. The best part of this good day would be the chance to sleep for nine or ten hours. Later, she'd try to trap the house in case Hisoka brought back intruders, but she'd only do it half-heartedly, she decided. There were benefits to being hopeful. Namely, it was easier to sleep that way.

[Exit]