House of Spades.

[King]

Secluded within the recesses of the Kirigakure slums and the perpetual mist that hung over the large island like a veil, there was the house of spades. Owned by made men, it was an establishment for the unsightly and outlaws to gather and dine; it was haven for the scum of the world to pool about for business and pleasure, where the underground reigned supreme.

Though somewhat shotty in its outward appearance, the owner of the house of spades sacrificed everything to assure its inner workings were absolutely flawless. From the bamboo flooring the to plush pillow-seats, it was quite obvious whoever ran this place spent a pretty penny on the details.

Filled to the brim with occupants, whores and pimps littering the vicinity, a small corner in the upstairs was dedicated to the most noble of all the guests dwelling within the house of spades. By far the most feared and prosperous man within, the owner, sat surrounded by a handful of his most valued subordinates. Women threw themselves at him, tenders filled his sight with sake and food of the best quality; Kouketsu couldn't have cared less about either.

"I take it everything went according to plan?"

"Indeed, Kouketsu-sama."

"Good. Let Tokido know I would like to speak with him later today."

"Hai."

Foreign relations were always a top priority for the Akumabito; however, the newest development within Kirigakure had left very little time for diplomacy. A "zombie" invasion, for lack of a better word, was pretty bad for business -- people were too busy fleeing, or spending them time trying to think of reasonable solutions. Profit was at very sudden all time low, and if there was one thing Kouketsu couldn't stand, it was low profit.

Still, he had no interest in partaking in the confrontation himself. "What's the status on the issue taking place in the village?"

The group's silence spoke on volumes.

"Well then, perhaps I will have to get my hands dirty after all. . ."

---

Notice

[Comatose]

Silent footsteps begot louder ones, trudging in the mud-filled streets of the would-be remains of the Village of Mist. The village's atmosphere was befitting of one such as this, a hero turned scum of the earth who had no where else to go. An invitation was extended to him a period of time ago, to enter a world that he had once tried to put a stop to; a world of criminals and bosses who profited and propagated activities that typical citizens only heard rumors of.

This place of interest, where he was told to go, was particularly fitting of the part of being an otherworldly location. Whores filled it's perimeter, and tricks flagged them down out in the open as if it was commonplace. The building was shoddy, gritty, and almost run-down — and yet still kept up, unusually so.

He did well to approach with caution, acting the part of an individual who had at least been here once before despite it being his first visit. Of course, it hadn't mattered at that point, all the regulars knew one another, and any outsider was quickly a black-sheep. At the table which he sat — away from all the others, he stood silent; asking only for one drink and taking in the place. The biggest question would be would he be noticed by the person to which invited him here. Nevertheless, the small increment of time between waiting, getting a drink, and sipping it slowly allowed him to take in the place and understand it's mannerisms and hierarchy.

"Fuck, this'll be a pickle."

[King]

Indeed, it was quite obvious when someone new was added into the fray. The people that filled the house of spades had been doin' so for quite some time, and though they might not have known each other on a first name basis, they definitely knew of each other. Even the whores, useless as they were, knew the familiar faces of the rich and corrupt that often occupied the house's keep. But the most important thing was that you didn't enter uninvited - if you were there, even if it was your first time, you weren't given shit.

As the mysterious newcomer found himself a cozy little seat far off in the corner, astray from the others, he'd notice a woman slowly sifting through the crowd. Beautiful she was, even though her hair was an unkempt mess; she wore a lavish silken gown of the deepest blue, weaving to and fro about her slender and lustful body in the fashion of a serpent. She wore her makeup thick, her swagger even thicker, and moved with a ghostly grace that seemed surreal.

"Excuse me, most honored guest." Her voice rolled from her lips like liquid sex, fluent and rich. "My master awaits your presence on the second floor."

She gave a curt bow before turning on her naked heels and making her way back through the haze of bodies, opium smoke, and chatter.

[Comatose]

The appearance of the female who didn't look as quite as run-down as the rest was a surprise, to say the least. This combined with the news she brought had all but startled him, but at the very least, it sent a message to the patrons that he was a 'made' man. In the few minutes he had sat he had exchanged dirty looks and harsh glances all around the bar, these lot were less than friendly.

"Coming."

Walking over to the stairs and up to the next floor was exponentially easier than walking into the bar. While entering the bar area had afforded him some less than comforting literal bump ins with the locals, they seemed to part an aisle for him to walk through easily to get upstairs.

"Much better."

He waited for his 'greeting'.

[King]

While the bottom floor was occupied with more of the common thugs and thieves, murders and rapists, the second floor of the establishment was reserved for the more refined of the criminal world. Drug lords, gang bosses, people like that; Kouketsu wasn't incredibly picky when it came to the company he kept, but even in the underworld, there were the strong and the weak. It was a fact that expanded through all walks of life.

Likewise, the same could be said for prostitution. The woman the newcomer had seen loitering around the lower floor were probably the lowest a man could find, disease ridden and disgusting in the worse ways. However, what he'd see upon reaching the last step of the fleeting case of stairs would be akin to walking into an entirely new world.

These women, much like the one that had greeted him, were far more refined. Their clothes were probably more expensive than the house itself, as was their ornaments and makeup. Though they were still whores, these were clearly an elite class favored by the higher ups in the crime world. Chances were they were probably respectable geisha before they were turned to this path, for one reason or another.

The vixen that had caught his attention earlier was waiting for him, her jade eyes glossy and too-welcoming. With a confident nod, she gestured toward the Oyabun and his company; he sat at the northern most reach of the floor, surrounded by a group of fifteen. An additional seat had already been prepared for their guest, to which he would undoubtedly fill.

"Right on time," the Oyabun almost sang. His voice was deep, calm. . . experienced. "I like a man that knows a little somethin' about punctuality; time is a luxury we can't afford in this business."

When the newcomer took his seat, fresh food and sake would be presented to him. Meanwhile, Kouketsu continued his speech. "I don't think I need to go over every detail as to why you're here; we both already know that. I've got a keen interest in acquiring useful talents - I've been told you're quite skilled, and I could use a man like you by my side. However, that's entirely up to you, of course."

Strangely, Kouketsu didn't give off the vibe that this was a one-way deal. The newcomer was more than welcome to turn down the Oyabun's offer and leave the house of spades; he wasn't the type to kill a man for simply not wanting to work with him.

"Know that if you do join me, you'll have whatever you're capable of taking. I've got big plans for this shit hole, and even bigger plans for neighboring villages. Once the dust settles, the Akumabito will take its rightful place in both worlds."

[Comatose]

It was impossible to not notice the sudden change in company, simply from demeanor alone. The men who sat on this second floor exhumed airs of dominance and power, heartily laughing rather than drunkenly laughing. They looked the part too, nearly all of them, taking on that stereotypical boss look, except one. The one man particular didn't look like, nor exhume the same air as the rest of the fifteen he sat near. The boss of bosses, obviously.

"I have certain talents that have afforded me more than my reputation precedes."

His gloved hands snapped their fingers summoning forth like magic a what seemed to be like a perfect rose. A second snap transformed the rose into a dagger, which then, he slowly edged toward the table and with the utmost ease seemed to cut the table as if butter. Then, poof again into nothing but a single sheet of normal paper.

"It's magic."

He grinned. "Whatever you have planned, I'm in. This world is nothing like what I left behind when I died. It's even more callous and unforgiving. Surely the only way to get anything significant done, will be through these sorts of means."

[/right]

Though there was always a wonder when one accepted these sorts of blind deals. What was the plan exactly? Asato only half-expected the man to reveal his thinking to the group, or at least fill him in. People like him tended to be cautious with these sorts of things, though, these men didn't look the one's to betray — and Kouketsu didn't look like the sort of man to let anyone who did live anyway.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[King]

"Good." Kouketsu was rather intrigued by the little magic show the man had put on; he hadn't seen much of the conjuring arts, even as a child. To this day, it still amused him - paradoxically, he didn't even believe in such antics.

"Right now, Kirigakure is in a very vulnerable position. A few of my men happened to find out where the remaining ninja are gathering tonight to vote on a temporary, though possible permanent, Mizukage." Merely mentioning the vote brought back flashes of the poor man they'd tortured - he was dead now, but his screams were still fresh in the Oyabun's mind. "The plan is simple: make sure, whoever they elect, keeps his position. Just make sure he or she knows they'll be indebted to us when it's all said and done."

He took a small sip of sake before continuing. "Once we've got this government in our pocket, we'll move on to bigger and better things."

[Comatose]

The plan was truly and utterly just as simple as he said, at least, on paper. There was still the notion of convincing said Kage that he was indebted to the group, even when he had a whole entourage of Ninja upon inauguration as ruler. Then again, Asato had seen the point of his existence in the plan, as a ruffian — hired muscle. The point was to strong-arm this person into realizing he was really in their pocket, more than it was protecting him at the vote. He'd more of a figurehead than Kage's were already, Asato knowing the plight of leading a village.

"Genius. I've got some experience with this, Ninja tend to make expeditious decisions about these sorts of things. If that's all, might be in the best interest to get there quick. "

[King]

"Agreed." With the mere flick of his wrist, ebony blurs replaced two of the individuals that sat among the conversing pair. The silhouettes were revealed to be two individuals, both clad entirely in silken cloth of the deepest pitch, garbed from their head to their toes. The only flesh visible was a thin strip where their eyes, narrow and jade, parted the black cloth.

"Tenma and Tomoe will show you where the meeting is taking place. They will assist you with whatever you might need."

[Comatose]

"Noted." With a nod, and a turning of the heel he was up and about, leaving this house of spades with demon-esque individuals in tow. Things could only get more grand from here, and this time Asato was on the opposite side of the happenstance.

— exit

[/right]

[Mamushi]

The wind blew, and a white note fluttered into the house...

The Mizukage shall be sending a representative to meet with the Oyabun of the House of Spades. He will arrive within the next fortnight.

[King]

At first, one might've just dismissed the paper was a piece of trash floating adrift. It wasn't like it would've been uncommon; the roads of Kirigakure's slums were littered with trash of all sorts, when not filled with the bodies of those that thought it wise to cross the Oyabun. Fortunately for the newly appointed Mizukage, one of the sharper tools in the box noticed the scripture upon the parchment's surface.

Naturally, the woman rushed to Kouketsu's private quarters. The notice was presented, though he discarded it with relative ease. He figured somethin' like this would happen sooner or later.

"Shall I send a reply, Oyabun-sama?" The woman's voice was low, calm.

"No," was his curt response. "You can, however, prepare my bath."

"Hai!"

A representative? Ha! If this Mizukage had half a brain, he would've known this wasn't goin' to fly. Unfortunately for the messenger, the Yakuza weren't fond of the "don't shoot the messenger" rule.

[Mamushi]

Even before he had become Kage he'd known of the house of spades. It was rather popular amongst a certain demographic. He'd never visited it but he knew of men who did, and he'd heard many a tale of long nights spent with its women, and forgotten nights wasted away in a drunken bliss beneath its lights. He'd never seen it however, finding no reason to even venture through the district... until now.

So this is the infamous house...

In the waning light, the house of spades didn't appear so much the shit-hole that it did during the day. It was an eyesore, almost, but he'd read reports of its interior design and layout, and he'd been impressed. He found it odd that such a bustling center of commerce and crime would be so... dingy.

He approached the front door, his head held high and his gait long and steady. He considered how to go about things - to be subtle, as advised, or blunt, in the manner that he felt he should be...

In the end, he decided to do both. He knew what area the Oyabun frequented, and he'd studied the lay-out of the establishment so thoroughly he knew it like the back of his hand. He didn't wait to be let in, nor did he wait for someone to notice him - as if a lone masked man could be missed - but instead, he tread deeper into the wolves den...

[King]

The Mizukage definitely knew how to pick his representatives. There were very few that thought it was a wise idea to simply barge into a man's house-- especially this one --as if he owned the place. Granted, the common patrons of the house of spades came and went as they pleased; however, strangers were expected to follow traditional ettique when entering another person's home.

Suffice to say, it caught the Oyabun by surprise.

"He has arrived, Oyabun-sama." The meek woman that spoke positioned herself in a low bow, already sitting on her knees, pressing the soft flesh of her forehead against the smooth slabs of bamboo defining the floor.

"Escort him in."

She didn't bother responding. Instead, she made her way through the first level of the establishment, spotting the masked man almost instantly. Again, there wasn't a need to say anything to him; she simply nodded toward the newcomer, gave a quick and short bow, and then turned and slowly made her way back to her master. If this representative knew how to take a hint, he'd follow.

The scene to follow would definitely be an interesting one, to say the least. The rice-paper door obscuring the Oyabun was slid back, revealing a score of beautiful women delicately licking him dry; completely nude, not an inch of his body was spared from their ravenous mouthes, nor was his ears spared from their whimpering and sighs of content. Even so, there was a look of disinterest upon his face; it was quite clear this was nothin' out of the ordinary, at least to him.

"Welcome to my establishment," he'd speak before any words could be said. When the women that littered the room had finished their chore, he was wrapped in an ebony kimono which was fastened by an off-white sash. "I presume you're the representative that the Mizukage was sending? A pity, as I was hoping to speak with him directly."

[Mamushi]

Ah, there are sheep amongst these wolves...

A woman approached him, a slight inclination of her head all the signal he needed to follow. She bowed as well before turning and going back the way she came, and Hiromasa followed, falling into step behind her. Perhaps people watched him as he strolled past - perhaps they didn't - and maybe they wondered why a man would mask himself in such a place, and what he had to hide from the deviants of the world.

He followed her to a door, the youth wholly unprepared for the sight that greeted him. There were women - sheep - all about the alpha wolf, talented tongues taking the place of linen. He couldn't quite avert his eyes, for the sight was too novel, and he wondered, idly, if he could manage such a feet - it'd be fun, for a while, but from the expression on Kouketsu's face...

The novelty wouldn't last forever.

"Welcome to my establishment."

Hiromasa inclined his head in response, staving off words until the Oyabun was dressed. Only then did he move to speak, but he was cut off by Kouketsu,

"I presume you're the representative that the Mizukage was sending? A pity, as I was hoping to speak with him directly."

Hiromasa chuckled. "Worry not, Uchiha Kouketsu," and he removed first his bandana and then his mask, revealing his youthful visage. "For I am he." He appeared relaxed - he was relaxed - but there was something in his voice, something hard that couldn't quite be quantified.

He appeared to assess the room as he stood, eyes moving from wall to wall and back again before centering on Kouketsu. He wasn't very tall, or big - in fact, he and Hiromasa shared similar statures and builds. He was older, however, and it showed in the broadness of his jaw, and the slight lines of age on his face - almost nonexistent, they were so thin. "Interesting place you have here... not much on the outside, but very nice inside...

Business is well?"

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