The First Stop [Obs/PM to Enter]

[Tyro]

The Noble Castle City. Akio had heard of the place, but never had the opportunity to visit exactly, as it was not within his orders of Samurai duty. He was notably on a cheerier note his step having a slight skip as he was surrounded by so many of his kin that protected the city. The Castle itself, off to the distance, he saw was destroyed (from the Great War he was told), but the city itself being very well reinvigorated. Of course signs of wear were apparent, but he agreed that the most of the city was very useable, from the Samurai's special efforts.

That was besides the point though. Akio, as well as his Archer friend, entered furbished inn, taking seats, and ordering carbonated beverages. They were only here to stop but for a moment to wet their tongues before continuing on their journey whose destination was still to Akio's choosing.

[Fumito]

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Nonetheless, there was one place that Fumito had to visit before leaving this place forever. His get away spot, not many knew about it about it had the best ramen in the world. Walking into the inn he noticed two men, neither looked ‘hostile’, but you never knew these days. Fumito sat down ordering his ramen and something to drink. He glanced over at the man with blank stare. “Hello”, he didn’t know if they would even acknowledge him but who knows they might be friendly right?

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[Tyro]

Things were going swimmingly. Akio sipped at his drink, his honed mind ever-wary and suspicious to the strangers about him. Poison....a hallucinogen...nature itself. He was familiar with ninja using each of these against the likes of Samurai, and he indeed did not appreciate it. How dearly he missed the old days, where battles were determined by men, and their strength. Not the manipulations that intertwined fingers would weave.

His thoughtful ramblings were brought to an end with the noticing of footsteps, ever so softly against the wooden floor of the inn they had entered. He did not turn his head, but noted the distance of the steps closing in, until the dispatcher of the sound took a seat on his left, Tama to his right. At first, he paid no attention besides a peripheral glance, that is, until the boy with a disturbingly blank stare, gave a greeting.

"Helloooo, stranger...."

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Came from Akio. Tama then took his lips from the drink he was delightedly engorging on, looking to his left to the boy who was quite older than him

"HOWDY!"

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His greeting was boisterous. Some unnoticed eyes in the inn peered in the threes direction, but sought no confrontation. Regardless, this new face had received it's greeting, the four pupils set on him.

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[alabaster]

ENTER !

The moment that a single mocha, leather loafer would find itself pressed against the hard, wooden floors of this establishment, there would be a new grace which would flush over the men and women who were fortunate to behold him. The glaring beam of the sun outside of this place was fortunate given the weather. The heat felt great against his skin, so much so that he had removed his jacket. Carrying it with his middle and index finger, it would drape behind his shoulder, his opposite hand holding on to the brass door handle that would allow him entrance into this place. It was a slum sort of place, nothing like what he had been used to, but then again, he was starting to grow accustomed to the less developed side of the city. After all, it was the places such as these which would beckon the attention of the the lower society, and the desperation that they would often exude. It didn't frighten him however. His watch still gleamed into the eyes of the less fortunate, and his sunglasses would hide his flame colored eyes from those who would exude envy towards him.

The all white ensemble that would cover his body seemed to be nearly flawless, begging the question as to how he was able to keep it so clean in a place so filthy. It was the least of his concerns, however. He had arrived back into this town only a few days prior, and was itching to gain his bearings. The times had changed considerably, and Tanzaku Gai was still the nothing little city that it had always been. It was his duty to change that. With each step, he would find an echoing 'clack' of his heel hitting the wood. The wooden sole of the shoe being obnoxiously loud for those he happened to walk passed. Grimacing at him, many of the blue collar workers would shoot their curses under their breath, praying for his untimely death or robbery in the near future. He however would find himself cursing them in return, considering them nothing but poor souls wallowing in an existence that would continue to keep them as filthy as they were already. It was this reason- in fact, that he had even step foot into this little hole in the wall. Quickly eying the place over, he had found a small group, consisting of three women to which he would leisurely sit across from. A stool at the bar would be his new place of refuge.

Quickly grasping for the bartender's attention, he would place his jacket onto the stool next to him, ensuring its cleanliness before committing to it.

"Your oldest scotch and today's paper, if you have it. Thank You." He would say decently, his hand reaching for his glasses as he would peel them from his face, and shoving them slowly into his shirt pocket.

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[Tyro]

[Not considering a posting order since this is more a casual rp]

Something was...off. Not ominous, it was a different experience, a different...feeling than ominous. But something was off. It was a tick going on in Akio's head, the kind similar to being bitten by a bug and ignoring it's intervention. His eyes were still turned to the stranger who had sat by them, but his mind was set to outside of the inn where he could hear the grumbling of the working class man. Complaints. Curses. Phrases against a man's mother.

He really hadn't paid much attention until the stark white outfit drifted into the dark solemn inn, the contrast of the luxury of the suit being boldly made as the wearer strut his way inside. Akio's eyes remained on him, while Tama still looked to the other stranger.

He ordered a drink of scotch, and a paper. Simple enough, but Akio realized the price of such a thing. He wasn't sure how, but this man seemed one of nobility of some sort, even within the swagger of his walk he exuded the "better life". Which of course aligned in to with the working class citizens possibly unjustified hatred of him. Akio himself was told of such a time, the time before ninja where Samurai were taken to be nobility before the Diamyo's took the preference to ninja. The perception of the two were, at least at one point, were the same. They were in a word of the same blood, even though Akio's views and that of his kin would be opposite.

The curiosity, and the soliloquy of thought left him without some of his tact, his eyes remaining fixated to the white-outfitted man.

[alabaster]

THE FIRST STOP !

The bartender was a tall, slender man. Someone who had obviously been in the serving industry for a while, however had obviously grown tired of the 'kiss-ass' mentality that most men would carry when it came to making their customers happy. He was more of a jolly fellow than not. Being able to serve his customers things that they would like, and making sure that when they left, they would want to return; that was his philosophy, and it was obvious. So as he groggily hoisted a bottle of an old foreign scotch from the back of his cabinet, knocking away a few other bottles in the process, he would finally come to his pride and joy.

"The Hindamaru, 50 year aged." He would say in an almost mystified tone.

Holding the bottle in front of him, he would grin slightly before snapping out of his complete mystification of the bottle which he knew was under his possession. The bottle was nearly full- product of no one in this part of the city being able to afford a sip, let alone even knowing what the maker was. As it turned out, Hindamaru was an old brewery that had dabbled in distillery options. They weren't very recognized for the first ten or so years after producing their first distribution of single malt. As such, they returned to making their classic amber ales, keeping a few crates of scotch in their archives. After a few changes in staff, and eventually going public, the newest CEO became aware of the archived whiskey, tasted it, and instantly began a secret marketing campaign that would eventually evolve into a few elite circles becoming aware of the product. As it stood, Honda Warui was one of the few men to get the first invite to a tasting, and actually assisted the funding of the distillery project, before his untimely sickness. There were only a few hundred bottles left in the world- so for this man to ever get his hands on one was a miracle within it self. It was no surprise to see him take such delight in sharing the product.

Plopping a small, almost flat glass onto the bar in front of the patron in all-white, he would pour the almost translucent golden brown liquid into the bottle, and allow the perfect tasting portion. Sliding the bottle back into the air, and tucking it quietly into the cabinet where he had found it. After placing all of the remaining alcohol in front of it, he would saunter back over to his new customer, and reach below the bar once more to toss a thick white paper titled the 'Noble Chronicles' in front of him. With a stark smirk he would lean against the bar counter and look directly into the man's eyes who had been occupied in his pursuit for something else.

"Don't you think it's a little early to be drinking scotch?" The bar tender would muse.

The reaction to the man's question was much less melodic. As the two golden orbs of the Honda's youngest child would roll towards the eyes of the eager older man, he himself would promote a quirky smirk.

"Well what's that old saying? What butter and scotch won't cure, there is no cure for," He would say calmly, reaching first for the paper before even mentioning notice to the glass at his fingertips. "And I've already had my serving of butter for the afternoon." He would finish, opening the paper before turning to the bartender with a genuine smile, his teeth showing themselves clearly, almost fighting back a chuckle.

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[Tyro]

Akio's eyes stayed stagnant on the lavishly clothed male as he talked to barkeep. They exchanged a few sentences, the kind that the Samurai realized belonged only to nobility: those that bought the expensive product, and those that made it. The striking product of the two being what was close enough to a friendship as they could both appreciate the finery behind the inn's work.

"Excuse me for a moment, please."


He told his mercenary and the stranger. His mind was wandering, and as this was to be a starting journey, a journey that currently had no destination, Akio felt free to adventure for some time. His metaled steps meandered him towards the pair discussing the drink at hand, not bothering to feign stealth as he didn't care should he be discovered.

As he enclosed upon the two, he'd take the seat closest to the white fashioned male and ask.

"Pardon my curiosity, but how is it you came to afford such a drink?

[alabaster]

THE FIRST STOP !

The two men seemed to be enjoying each other's company- the bartender responding to the question's answer with a hefty chuckle. It was a truth that neither one of them could deny; the fortitude of scotch whiskey. However, before the interaction could solidify, they would soon find themselves accompanied by a third party. It was a patron of the bar, a man whom neither of them had spoken to during his period of presence. Of course, the bartender would recognize him, having served him just a few minutes before, but this didn't necessarily warrant their friendship or a need to converse. The two men however would quickly notice the oncoming presence. It was an imposition, of course, all three of them knew that, but it was really only the bartender which would grow so openly vocal about it. Turning his head, and standing up straight once more, the bartender would cross his arms as he would appear to take the man in for what he was. A slender figure, his arms would nearly wrap around themselves before covering his torso. The snug fitting skull cap would lay leisurely atop his head, exposing the hints of gray that had begun to accumulate on the sides of his scalp. The dark bronze hair beneath the forest green cap would appear interesting in contrast with the dull blue outfit he had chosen to wear during most days at the inn. The denim shirt and denim jeans would appear as though real work man's wear, despite his relatively easy occupation.

Despite his actual agenda, his rugged look seemed to extend into his personality as well. Shifting his lips to the side, he would drink in the words of the stranger before actually speaking.

"Probably the same way that you can afford that one. What kinda ques-" He would say satirically, pointing his index finger lazily at the cup of sodapop which still rested on the counter top where the man was once sitting.

"I'm sure he meant to harm in it." The golden eyed man would announce, cutting the man off gently before he lost his composure. "Though the man has a point, there is no class in asking a man about his income." He would finish smugly, glancing over at the barkeep as he would take the short glass, finally within his grasp.

The liquor would stir around in the glass for a small bit before being raised to the sky, intending to cheers to no one in particular. The cool glass would touch his lips, and soon the pungent spice of the liquid would find its way to dancing roughly against Tadakatsu's tongue. It burned, harshly, grazing his lips as it would flow through his open cavity. Splashing against his lower teeth, they too would feel the spice of the age of such a powerful mixture of elements. It was nice, and as his tongue would press against the roof of his mouth, he would rotate it a number of times in order to progress the feeling of it. A powerful sip, and there was plenty more left for a second one as he would place it back against the wood of the bar counter, a small smirk crossing his face as he would feel the burn of the scotch spreading to his jaw. Lowering his eyes to the paper once more, he would fold it, and place it back onto the counter, aside the scotch. It was a great feeling, and one that he would be happy to share. It would become evident as he would once more take a grasp of the glass; this time however shoving it gently towards the curious man who had been so eager to know about the drink.

"I have yet to meet a real man who has said no to scotch. Let alone the 'Hindamaru, 50 year,' correct?" He would half declare, half ask, making sure that his tasting had yet to fail him.

The bartender would smirk at the guess, offering only a nod as he would wait for the stranger to try the second, and final sip. His eyes were wary, almost as if he didn't believe the man to deserve it. They however were contradicted by the piercing gaze of the young patron who would offer the drink. His face was serious, but sincere. It would be a waste of both hospitality and opportunity to deny the drink, and yet it was a major possibility.

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[Tyro]

Patience was a virtue well taught among the Samurai. So that even as the bartender's somewhat brash response to his question was made, he narrowed his eyes and took a long shallow breath to compensate for the slight bubble of annoyance that was built in his system.

"The way I can afford that drink is simple. It is cheap. "Hindamaru" in an of itself is a rare delicacy. Even more so in these parts. I don't wish to interject that I suspect ulterior motives. But curiosity leads my intentions."

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Now he spoke a bit more fluently, with certifiably more tact than his afore less tactful commentary. The white robed man would concur to his statement, which drew Akio to tilt his head to the side as the boy captured his attention. That was where Akio noticed his eyes. Golden. The disfiguration that normally hinted toward a Bloodlimit ability such as the famed Sharingan and Hyuuga clans. He made note of that distinction.


The boy would then take several drinks of his alcohol, which made Akio wonder what legal drinking age around here really was. He disregarded. It was of no consequence.

Here the challenge was made, the bartender most likely pleased with himself for pleasing a valuable asset of a customer, would offer him a spot of the liquor.

"I'm afraid I must be the first to deny such. Samurai do not align well with alcohol. We find it hinders your judgement...your abilities....Im sure you understand."

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[alabaster]

THE FIRST STOP !

The young man's grin was very roughly contained. As the simmering of his grin would burst through the seems, his teeth baring themselves quite clearly, the amusement was painfully obvious. Placing his hand atop the knee of his crossed legs, he would continue to gaze into the eyes of this stranger who claimed something so bold a title as samurai. They were something similar to the 'guardian angels' of the continent... or at least they had been for some time. While there had been a number of men whom had claimed the moniker, there were only a small number which actually meant the devotion that they claimed. A sigh would slyly slip through the lips of the bartender, thrusting his hand to his head as he would slowly drag the cap from his head. Standing up straight, he would saunter off into the distance at the beckon of one of the many other customers whom had surrounded the bar scene. While there had never been any claim that samurai were not allowed into the inn's pub, one could only be curious as to why men with such men would waste their time bumming around such questionable and intoxicated areas. It was a question that the golden eyed youth had prepared himself for, having been curious as to this mans situation since the moment he had set eyes on him. However it was this slightly sophisticated 'test' that had given him the answer he was truly hoping to acquire.

There was no guarantee that this stranger was an honest man. While there was still no covenant, it would be clear that he at least had some moral code. However, his answer, while revealing, left Tadakatsu considerably intrigued. However, before directly addressing either the question posed, or the answer given, Tadakatsu would stretch slightly, leaning back into his seat in an attempt to get a better look at the soda beverages a few stools down. The man had mentioned something else aside from his career choice- his economic status.

"You have a bolstering curiosity, friend," Tadakatsu would say in a smoky tone, his smile slightly fading, however keeping his amusement. "However, you must know that isn't the name which makes this glass so important," His finger would trail to the large print paper at his front, the tips circling the ridges of its ends as he would appear to lose interest with his eyes- perhaps just to prevent himself from staring. "It is the concept behind it."

This samurai had already claimed to be familiar with the product, so Tadakatsu would refrain from lecturing someone on something they were already aware of. Knowing that the bottle was of high expense, as well as calling the bottle by its 'half' name, he at least knew the basics of the bottle. However, he could care less about proving his knowledge of scotch whisky- it was instead something much more personal.

"Enough about that- You mentioned that you are a samurai. I've always been curious... what does that entail in today's economy? Is work less plentiful with the influx of a ninja villages? I discovered recently that another has recently ascended. That makes six ninja powerhouses," He would question casually, placing the paper in which he had begun to fiddle with back onto the counter in order to continue the conversation with his eyes focused on that of this stranger's.

The conversation was reminiscent to the conversations he would have with his family, or one of his old school mates. They had all grown interested in the economy even since high school. With a powerful influence in the affairs of the green-collar world due to his father, Tadakatsu had never had the chance to actually sit down with someone who had been right in the thick of the war economy. It was his opportunity to see what the life of a warrior was really like.

"Oh my!" He would announce acutely. "Where are my manners. You asked me a question. You know, the bartender is correct. I afforded this drink the same way you afforded the one over there." He would say, nodding towards the carbonated beverage. "Ryo." He would say coldly, the gravity of his statement making its impression. "Which is I guess why I'm so curious about the Samurai's condition." He would finish smoothly, a curtious smile showing that he had finally finished speaking.

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[Tyro]

Akio's eyes stayed stonily on the bartender, almost as a direct challenge for him to further impose the drink on him. They remained on the chap as he went through his movements and soon left to tend to more of his occupation's demands. He heaved the subtlest of sighs in relief as the bartender chose to carry on and what could have been an altercation was avoided.

Akio's eyes then carried themselves back to the white dressed figure, as he was the only character of note available. He would stretch before making more of an attempt at talking. The small commentary on Akio's knowledge of alcohols was taken without any added intrigue. What it confirmed however, was that this figure was more knowledgable than he on some of the finery that existed. This wasn't coincidence, he had a clear education, and that typically came from a higher society.

But the speech moved on from commentary on the drink, to commentary on the Samurai himself. He nodded once to concur again his status. His face would twitch, hidden behind his helm, as the boy poked at the situation of the Samurai. It was very common knowledge that they had been replaced as the dominant power, and instead remained as peacekeepers. They had been angered. At first. Until the more recent disturbances to peace had altered their attitudes. Samurai realized the implications of the darker age they were entering. Someone had to stop it, and since ninja seemed so bloodthirsty in the current age, that left them as the only option.

It was nice to still retain some value.

Before Akio could answer the first question, another was answered for him. "Ryo". The fuel to so many desires, and the end to many of them. He chose to answer this first, before the question aforementioned.

"

Work...is of no consequence. In a Samurai's line of work a dull day is more valuable than any. As for our Ryo, that too is of no consequence. We are compensated by our governments, even more than the standard ninja so I hear. What are not available to us, are their missions. A typical ninja may be paid less than us, but one working within their village to nearly any a degree is surely paid more....Even so...it is of no consequence. Our mission is simply stability in the world. Should that mean we help maintain the livelyhood of ninja, so be it.

Besides, what ever would I spend the money on?

"

[alabaster]

THE FIRST STOP !

So it was true, this man was a true Samurai, and not just an armed savage, which had steadily begun to populate not only the countryside, but many townships as well. It was a pity, really. As he had recently been instructed, with the ninja phenomenon easily overtaking that of the traditional Samurai, it would be a simple economic equation of fluctuating the influx of ninja with the influx of Samurai. With an untold amount of hooligans parading around the boondocks of the continent, responsible governments could easily slap a few swords on them, offer them some training and give them actual jobs. The days of Samurai being about ones lineage had passed. When it came to military power, and the resurrection of the heritage of this nation, there had to be an active modernity. As far as he was aware, there was only one remaining country which continued to use Samurai as their primary military force- the rest having adopted the growing shinobi force. It made sense in some sick, twisted way. Military power was still a product, and when a new model does everything that the old one does, but better, faster and more discreetly, it would clearly be worth the extra money. For that reason, it made literally no sense to be a Samurai for anything more than sentimental reasons. Here was the testimonial of a man whom had been a Samurai, and trained to follow this career. Of course, while he was no doubt skilled at what he did, he was underpaid, under appreciated and probably not going to be promoted or given any sort of salary increase. However, from the last answer given to him, it was evident that this didn't really matter to him.

"I suppose if you have no need for money, then you must have alternative reasons for choosing the life of a Samurai. It can't be for power, as you could have just as easily chosen the life of a shinobi. What is it exactly, if you don't mind me asking?" Tadakatsu would inquire, shifting his legs slightly as he leaned back further into his bar stool.

This man seemed to be in a difficult place. While Tadakatsu couldn't easily sympathize with him, it was very much evident that there was something lacking in his understanding of what was really going on on this continent. Coming from a family in which success and proficiency was easily master, it was unsettling to speak to someone who could not see and want to change the lack of efficiency in their life. It was very clear that the shinobi military machine was very much flawed. With Daimyo easily losing control of their nation through the influence of the ninja military, it left the Daimyo with no military of themselves. It would only be a matter of time before a villainous ninja village would make the move to completely satisfy their ambitions for a coup d'etat. However, this gap meant only one thing- that there was a space to be filled; a space that The Rengoku Organization had almost reserved for itself.

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[Tyro]

The alternate reason. The mainstay of the Samurai culture and dedication that drew them to the blade and the honor it promised. All at a cost, of not having the ability over nature or mystic prowess that ninja would possess. The alternate reason, why he risked his life and welfare chasing Jinchuuriki and attempting to avert war, and all at little compensation, not even enough for a new blade. It would seem something to obliterate the mind, even, and when explained still may baffle some more "knowledgeable" people.

Akio however, knew of his answer immediately after the question was asked. His only intentional pause as to swiftly giving that answer was the slight lull in his mind as he considered what he could be doing should he have chosen to not be a Samurai. He wasn't tempted, just daydreaming. The thoughts carried the same practicality as his once daydreaming of being a koala.

"The answer is simple friend. The selfless deeds we provide, we hope to shed light to a new world. A peaceful world, as peaceful as can be which can thrive in and of itself, and cause as little harm as possible. The alternate reason I provide, is that without us, ninja would run among in anarchy. Not within their own villages so much, as their respective Kages keep their contained villages under control relatively speaking. But to the world, there is less aggression, as Samurai provide both ventilation, law, and retaliation, for the planet."

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[alabaster]

THE FIRST STOP !

It was evident within a few moments of this conversation that Tadakatsu could see something beyond just a hand willing to grasp a sword. There was something behind the eager eyes of this young man- but it was evident that he was still a child. It wasn't the voice, or the manurisms that would help him decipher this; simply his tact. He had been living in a world that didn't quite match reality. Throughout his life, Tadakatsu had seen his fair share of it. The wish to save, or even preserve the decency and sanctity of mankind. It was true, that all young men want to grow up to be the hero- but it didn't always turn out that way. The bright light that had been casted upon them, an attempt to ensure their success and prevalence as human beings would only intensify their shadows. The scent of blood would always curse the nostrils of a warrior, no matter his calling. The temptation of greed would always bite at the ears of a man who considered himself philanthropic. Here sat two men, still new to this ageless planet, and yet they could readily admit to never being able to understand each other's perspective. The man in white would run his fingers along the soft, dark wood of the bar as he would attempt to invision himself in the seat of the man that sat across from him. Clad in armor, constantly prepared for battle. He wanted life, but more so he wanted peace. The only way that he could understand that was through the inoculant that was 'peace.' He held a sliver of that feeling when he was younger...

Those times had passed.

He had left the idea of peace behind him. He no longer had a desire for combat, or the aftermath of victory. Now, the only thing that he could focus on was the constant struggle which would surface itself behind human struggle. Money was a method of persuasion to those of unreachable favor; Power was a method of influence to those who held none; Respect was an imposable method that would ensure the nourishment of future endeavors. They were the only things that truly mattered in this world. Peace? Nothing more than a fallacy. His dangerous, hungry eyes would search for something within the gaze of his younger counterpart, his mouth slightly gaping as he would finish speaking.

"You should consider laying your sword down," He would say, almost remorsefully. "Or at least for someone who does not seek peace in the way that you do. A tongue, like the sharp sword of a samurai, kills just as effectively; without the need for bloodshed." He would say in a soft tone, slowly reaching in to his jacket pocket.

What he would remove was a simple, white business card. On the front of it, the side presented to the samurai, appeared to be golden lettering spelling out the name of the man who sat here with him. 'Honda Tadakatsu, Primary Executive of Investments, The Rengoku Business Order' it would read. Sliding it across the bar, he would leave it within hands reach of the samurai, before taking his fingers away, and back onto the newspaper, that he would hastily fold up. If the Samurai were to take interest in it, and look to read the other side, he would find an address for a location there in Tanzaku Gai.

"If you're ever interested in a change, make an appointment to come by my office," He would say smoothly, tucking the now folded newspaper under his arm. "I see a lot of potential in you- though I'm afraid I don't know your name." He would say, extending his right hand towards the man steadily, his left hand tucked into his hip to prevent the newspaper from slipping.

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