Where the Sand Meets the Sea
Feb 1, 2008 0:58:29 GMT -7
Post by shinzo-kori on Feb 1, 2008 0:58:29 GMT -7
From the distance, the desert sands would blow upon the east ports a weary traveler. His clothing dry from the rough sands that coated its material. He wore a long sleeve white thermal shirt covered at the rib cage area by a short sleeve black button up shirt. His shirt would blow in the wind as his mirage came clear to those within the small village which coexist with the ports. His black shorts were a loose material, similar the looseness of the waist which was not properly secure by his black belt. It however was slightly secure enough to allow him to fight properly in a battle if need be. A toothpick would twiddle at the crack of his mouth, dangling for its life as it picked at his teeth. His wild black hair blew in the wind as the left over sand seemed to brush out of its dark forest. After this long trip, he only sought to find comfort within the mists of his home village.
He had trained a lot along his path through the different countries he entered and exited. He had killed a few as well, and he wanted to forget that also. His black shoes seemed to drag along the sand until his path would slowly turn into a much more solid earth by which he could kick the sand free from his shoes. He would have a lazy eyed look upon his face, a few bags that my seem a bit unattractive at the moment, but his bright brown eyes removed that affect. He would approach the small village, the sound of seagulls flying above his head and the smell of the ocean would bring a bright smile upon his face with the toothpick intact. His hands would slip into his pockets as the two blades at his side would clink together, almost like a pair of keys within one's pockets. He would hear the silent sound of the people at the dock, but the village was pretty much quite and boring.
He didn't mind it however, for the breeze the sea brought to him was quite refreshing compared to the dead of the desert. He would find a bench a few meters ahead by which he could rest his aching legs and back. He would sit slowly into a proper seated position almost like an old man, the loud grunt at the end to prove that fact. He would then slowly close his eyes and rest for a bit, lost in a deep rest that he would not allow any to disturb. He wasn't sure how he planned to get on a boat out of here, mostly likely stowing away like when he came to Fire Country, but it would be the prize he would pay to get out of this hell hole. His path seemed to have no purpose at this point, though he was much stronger then when he was last home. He was starting to give up on that fact, and it could be seen that his drive to getting on with his journey with no rest was over. He would rest now, at least for a good few minutes.
His eyes would open to only darkness, the moon shining brightly upon this fine village. He would feel the slight cool of drool upon his chin as he quickly jumped back to life. The toothpick that was within his mouth was not upon his lap, dry of the spit that had coated it. He sighed a bit as his arms uncrossed from each other and lifted above his head for a great stretch. His mouth would open wide with a large moan of relief as he felt the tension within his muscles slowly fade away from his mind and body. Afterwards, his arms would fall limp against the bench and he would look around the village from his viewpoint. Lights were on within the few houses around the area, but the streets were cleared of all human life but himself. He smirked a bit, as if trying to hide the fact that it may very be possible that those who passed on by studied him in his deep sleep.
As he thought of this, he slowly lifted himself up from the bench and stumbled into an upright position. He then rested his left hand upon both hilts of his blades, his Katana and Wakazashi, strapped to his left hip. He was a bit rested now, ready to get on with his travels and to get home. He would take a deep breath of the fresh and cool midnight air, its aroma soothing his soul like it always did. "Tatsu...you ok?" Her voice again, her small and soothing tone that always cheered him up when he was down. At the same time, she had the ability to move him in another direction with a much more strict tone when what he was attempting was morally wrong. Her voice would fall deaf to other's ears, only he would see these things that haunted him daily. It was Min, old Genin friend who happened to day on the same week as his promotion to Chuunin.
His mind was lost in oblivion to the truth when around her presence, as well as his other passed on ally Jet who died on the same die for the same reason. It were all his fault he would tell, but the truth is it wasn't his fault they died. Because of this guilt he had, his mind triggered some sort of emotion so strong, that he was convinced they were still alive, though everything about them showed no sign of existing. He would tilted his head to the side, his head rolling upon the vertebrae of his spine so that his eyes could gaze into hers. He had a slight grin as he spoke to her. "Yes, I'm just tired," his voice sounding a little scratchy for the desert had dried his throat almost dry. Min was beautiful, though she looked no different from when he last remembered her, fifteen. She would smile, her dimples causing her eyes to squint as she spoke one final statement.
"Tatsu..your the greatest," something she would always tell him to cheer him up, and it worked. He would blink, and a moment later his eyes would be revealed to the truth that she was not there. He would sigh a bit as his eyes closed and his head leaned forward to face towards the ground. He would digress from this thought, for he needed to get home soon, so he took a moment to collect himself. Afterwards, his feet began to kick up dust as he pushed on forward towards the docks of the village to try and find a boat to either steal, or stow away on. Petty it seemed, but he was in a desperate situation that he wasn't fully committed into brining upon the subject of costs and currency. He continued either way, not knowing what his path might lead to him this time. He was merely a soul who hath lost his path, and now he would only go where he knows he truly exists:
He had trained a lot along his path through the different countries he entered and exited. He had killed a few as well, and he wanted to forget that also. His black shoes seemed to drag along the sand until his path would slowly turn into a much more solid earth by which he could kick the sand free from his shoes. He would have a lazy eyed look upon his face, a few bags that my seem a bit unattractive at the moment, but his bright brown eyes removed that affect. He would approach the small village, the sound of seagulls flying above his head and the smell of the ocean would bring a bright smile upon his face with the toothpick intact. His hands would slip into his pockets as the two blades at his side would clink together, almost like a pair of keys within one's pockets. He would hear the silent sound of the people at the dock, but the village was pretty much quite and boring.
He didn't mind it however, for the breeze the sea brought to him was quite refreshing compared to the dead of the desert. He would find a bench a few meters ahead by which he could rest his aching legs and back. He would sit slowly into a proper seated position almost like an old man, the loud grunt at the end to prove that fact. He would then slowly close his eyes and rest for a bit, lost in a deep rest that he would not allow any to disturb. He wasn't sure how he planned to get on a boat out of here, mostly likely stowing away like when he came to Fire Country, but it would be the prize he would pay to get out of this hell hole. His path seemed to have no purpose at this point, though he was much stronger then when he was last home. He was starting to give up on that fact, and it could be seen that his drive to getting on with his journey with no rest was over. He would rest now, at least for a good few minutes.
[1 hour later]
His eyes would open to only darkness, the moon shining brightly upon this fine village. He would feel the slight cool of drool upon his chin as he quickly jumped back to life. The toothpick that was within his mouth was not upon his lap, dry of the spit that had coated it. He sighed a bit as his arms uncrossed from each other and lifted above his head for a great stretch. His mouth would open wide with a large moan of relief as he felt the tension within his muscles slowly fade away from his mind and body. Afterwards, his arms would fall limp against the bench and he would look around the village from his viewpoint. Lights were on within the few houses around the area, but the streets were cleared of all human life but himself. He smirked a bit, as if trying to hide the fact that it may very be possible that those who passed on by studied him in his deep sleep.
As he thought of this, he slowly lifted himself up from the bench and stumbled into an upright position. He then rested his left hand upon both hilts of his blades, his Katana and Wakazashi, strapped to his left hip. He was a bit rested now, ready to get on with his travels and to get home. He would take a deep breath of the fresh and cool midnight air, its aroma soothing his soul like it always did. "Tatsu...you ok?" Her voice again, her small and soothing tone that always cheered him up when he was down. At the same time, she had the ability to move him in another direction with a much more strict tone when what he was attempting was morally wrong. Her voice would fall deaf to other's ears, only he would see these things that haunted him daily. It was Min, old Genin friend who happened to day on the same week as his promotion to Chuunin.
His mind was lost in oblivion to the truth when around her presence, as well as his other passed on ally Jet who died on the same die for the same reason. It were all his fault he would tell, but the truth is it wasn't his fault they died. Because of this guilt he had, his mind triggered some sort of emotion so strong, that he was convinced they were still alive, though everything about them showed no sign of existing. He would tilted his head to the side, his head rolling upon the vertebrae of his spine so that his eyes could gaze into hers. He had a slight grin as he spoke to her. "Yes, I'm just tired," his voice sounding a little scratchy for the desert had dried his throat almost dry. Min was beautiful, though she looked no different from when he last remembered her, fifteen. She would smile, her dimples causing her eyes to squint as she spoke one final statement.
"Tatsu..your the greatest," something she would always tell him to cheer him up, and it worked. He would blink, and a moment later his eyes would be revealed to the truth that she was not there. He would sigh a bit as his eyes closed and his head leaned forward to face towards the ground. He would digress from this thought, for he needed to get home soon, so he took a moment to collect himself. Afterwards, his feet began to kick up dust as he pushed on forward towards the docks of the village to try and find a boat to either steal, or stow away on. Petty it seemed, but he was in a desperate situation that he wasn't fully committed into brining upon the subject of costs and currency. He continued either way, not knowing what his path might lead to him this time. He was merely a soul who hath lost his path, and now he would only go where he knows he truly exists:
"Time to go home..."