hi love+, bye love-; [o]

[Deleted]

I Will Miss My ♥

"Baby, You know I'd never hurt you," she said, pleading with Ikiri as he made is way angrily to the door, "Te echaré de menos, mi amore. Permanecer."

"Ge'the hell away from me," Ikiri spat coldly, shoving her backward farther back into the hallway of the apartment, "You mean nothing to me. I take almost an entire; I don't even know how long! Off of my duties to do what? Have you play me like an old school game of Tag? I'm gone."

And with that, he was gone. Out of the building. Out of, damn district of the village. He was back being a Shinobi and this chick was to blame. He walked the streets, it was night of course; the only time of lingering for Ikiri. He passed other night owls & "couples", dare he call them such. Approaching a restaurant; he would just scowl as he entered.

"Two bombs."

The beer and sake came as quick as that. They sat infront of Ikiri, as he glared in the reflection of what he became. The one look, he wasn't just shook, he was ashamed. The last thing on his mind now was that manipulative dame. He had to get back in his lane, but first he had to find comrades. He hadn't kept up with his partner Hiromasa and he was unsure on who had entered or reclaimed positions. Blond hair draped over eyes and headband tied around neck, the boy would shake his head.

Dropping the first sake into the beer flask, he would down it.

[/blockquote]

[Molokai]

[Hope I'm allowed to just kind of waltz in. . .]

The girl had done little to satisfy his hunger.

While it was nice to finally get something to eat that he could actually enjoy, the meager morsel he managed to snag from her wasn't near substantial enough. He had long since lost Raiden and decided that it was time to give eating another try. Vile, disgusting stenches oozed out of the various restaurants and pubs lining the streets, not a single one displaying the delectable long pork he so desperately craved. Then again, it wasn't like anybody else in the village actually cared for such a dish.

He eventually decided that forcing himself to consume the chemical bilge of the establishments simply wasn't worth it, seeing as he didn't even need to eat to begin with. But he still needed to silence his rampaging stomach. Walking into the very next restaurant that caught his eye, he figured he could drown the beast within with various strong liquids. Dropping his flytrap down around his waist, not caring to hide his strangely colored body or the roots sprouting from his hips, he sat down a seat away from the only other patron there.

Absentmindedly waving his hand, a gesture meant to signal the waiter for something to drink, he studied the one next to him. Blond haired and fair skinned, he wasn't exactly an ugly duckling, but not entirely over-the-top with his looks. Form-fitting black clothing with a few bits of chain hanging off of him gave the impression of one who wished to be subtle without being invisible, although his orange glasses seemed entirely superfluous. As his drink arrived, Toru turned toward the table and downed a large glass.

The burn was satisfying, and the momentary silence of his bowels was golden. Oh, yeah. He'd be staying there for a while.

[Deleted]

Breathing in as the burn went down his throat. Alcohol wasn't something he did often; but this was an occasion. Tapping his hand on the bar counter, causing an addicting beat. Ikiri then abruptly stopped as the fellow sat next to him. With his right hand, he dropped the sake into the Beer and with his left, he upped and downed the brew.

He watched out the corner of his eye as the male drank his concoction. The green hair had a distinct look about it. Bloodline limit, Ikiri presumed. He wasn't going to come straight out with it and approach the man with blunt questions. Ha; he really didn't want to talk to anyone really, but if he didn't; he would have the hangover of Mike Tyson. He needed someone to stonewall him before he f#&%ed up completely.

Flexing his shoulder, the bone crackling around in the skin; Ikiri would turn his head slightly to look to him.

"Your a shinobi, correct?"

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[Molokai]

Toru listened to the telltale sounds of a man pouring and drinking another shot, then slamming it back on the table. The sickening pop of readjusting joints met his ears as he watched the man beside him turn his way from the corner of his eye. While the question asked of him was mildly redundant, asking a man in a hidden village whether or not he was a shinobi, it was clear that it was only meant to be a conversation starter. He couldn't be sure if the speaker was a friendly drunk or merely somebody who didn't mind odd-looking people sharing the same bar.

Adopting a socially acceptable demeanor, he swung around to face the one sitting next to him and answered, "Why, yes actually." It was a little sad that two people within the same hidden village were unable to recognize each other. Judging by their ages, they could very well have been little more than one academy class apart. Toru needed to make alliances, with the apparent rebirth of Mist village he wanted to make sure that he had every possible advantage. So, with sincere interest, he asked, "What about you?"

He downed another large glass of whatever spirit the waiter had dropped before him, his stomach was still gurgling at him for sustenance as he tried in vain to silence it. The lack of food in his stomach to absorb the powerful liquor would prove to be his downfall, however. As he went to fill a third his insides did a barrel-roll, and he had to dash outside before he returned his drinks all over the counter. Luckily the man beside him was still a stranger, but after that show he couldn't bring himself to return inside. Plodding off ashamedly, he vanished into the night.

[exit]

[Deleted]

Yet, before he could answer the question bestowed upon him, the asker had vanished. He seemed like he was about to be sick. Already feeling the effects of Drunken Madness, Ikiri would get up himself, and leave. Shinobis always seemed to Ninja out of bills, haha.

"Let's find something to do."

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