I four-blade it!

[That Guy]

Madoka walked the cold road in quiet contemplation considering the events of the day. His face was something of a mess from what he had just gone through in his trials for the samurai. A streak of dried blood was caked to his face running from his nose down around his lips and nearly down to his chin. His long hair was even partially frozen with clots of snow and ice from the battle he had been involved in. Beneath his cloak he bore bruises that would have swelled nice and proper if not for the frigid winds of the land he now served in. Despite all of this though, it had truly been a great day to be in his boots. Each numbing pain was a reminder of the ones who had failed to best him. His strained and sore muscles were merely signs of proper use.

Yes, he had done it. He had officially joined the samurai at last, and now as a young fledgling of the order he trudged through the streets. He had been told to go home and rest before his training would commence, but he wouldn't have it. He had finally done what he dreamed of for so long and there was only one thing to do. Relish the privileges of being within the order, even the simplest of them all such as walking about the complex. He had no idea what to do or where to go, but he was damn sure he wasn't going back to his home anytime soon."Hmmmm," he pondered to himself quietly, "I wonder which building I should venture into first. I need to get out of this cold before the shivers become a permanent thing. Although... the ladies might like that." A joke in poor taste, but seeing as no one was around he didn't care. Very little could dampen his spirits today. Least nothing he could possibly conceive at this moment. Then as if to tip his good move over the edge a passing samurai smiled and nodded at him.

"You might wanna go home and get yourself cleaned up comrade."

The samurai kept walking past but Modoka froze in his place. Comrade? God damn did it feel good to be spoken to like that. Maybe not as an equal yet, but he was being recognized my the samurai for his potential and it filled his eccentric ego. Turning about he called after the samurai, "Say I was looking for an inn to grab some food and wash up. Any recommendations?"

The samurai turned around and called back, "Keep going the way you're going and you'll see a sign with a four-armed samurai. It's called 'I four-blade it!'. A bad joke, but the inn keeper is friendly enough. Good luck!"

[sachi]

The concept of winding down after a hard day's work or training was one all too familiar in the country of Iron. Like the name of our home suggested, we were a tough people, Samurai or not we gave our all - and what was the saying, work hard play hard? I myself was just finishing up from another hard day's work - my 'work' being extensive swordplay with my Grandfather, and to anybody that ever had the experience of training with him . . . well, you'd understand what I meant when I said it was a full time job!

"Finally, time to relax!"

Lazy strides carried me down the street, my large coat protecting me from the cold air, fur-lined hood keeping the snow out of my face. To my left and right were my usual bodyguard detail, and they must have felt my annoyance more so than usual today, because they appeared to be keeping their distance - well, if you could call a few feet distance.

"Here looks good!"

I announced to nobody in particular as I approached a building, the front decorated with a large sign displaying a four-armed Samurai, the name of the inn bringing out a quiet chuckle. It was one of those jokes that was so bad it still made you laugh, and if I hadn't already decided to stop, the name of the place alone would have sold me.

"Fancy a drink?"

I spoke to my guards as I approached the door, stepping in slowly and throwing back my hood, shaking out all the snow from my hair,

"They're on me tonight!"

I had literally never had a 'drink' in my life (well, of the alcoholic sort anyways) but I was feeling adventurous - besides, if I picked up their tab they were more likely to drink with me, which meant less likely to tell Gramps! What was the big deal about this sake stuff anyways?

"Three!"

Bottoms up.

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[That Guy]

Modoka made his way slowly to the inn noticing a rather regal looking samurai enter the tavern in the distance. There was a trio of them, armed and serious but that was most samurai the duelist had ever come across so it wasn't that intimidating. Actually, it was but Modoka was too worn out to care that he was about to be outclassed by just about everyone he came across today. It only made sense after all, he had just became a samurai in his own right while all these others were veterans.

Modoka approached the tavern stopping just outside the door and kneeling beside a snow bank. He grabbed handfuls of snow and began to rub it across his face and hands before casting the now dirty and bloody snow aside and repeating the process. In a few minutes he still had a few cuts, gouges, and bruises, but the dried blood and mud had been scrubbed away. He felt clean, but not refreshed. It was time to take care of that.

Hand flat on the door he forced it swinging inwards before knocking his boots on the stoop to shake snow from his boots. He stepped forward into the well lit tavern with some measure of surprise at how high class the whole place was. It wasn't anything for the rich, but it was surprisingly clean for a tavern that serviced exclusively to soldiers. Modoka made his way to the counter and tapped gently on the surface of the counter to get the service's attention.

"Can I just get some ramen with beef please? I've had a long day."

[Tyro]

"A long day" would not describe this Samurai's situation. A village's liberation, a Bijuu living in his being, and given the new assignment to protect what was likely the heir to the Samurai's throne. Every day was in it's own way "long", and the Samurai was all too often on duty.

After his meeting with the Shogun, he had taken to visiting some friends, and then most importantly his family. He always felt compelled to visit, even if no truly pertinent news was available, he wanted to assure them he was safe. All that had transpired during that meeting however, was Akio telling his parents that he had a new assignment, and his training was going well. He felt best to be discrete, a Jinchuuriki son could put them in danger.

Then, he felt downtime. It was always difficult to know when he actually had downtime, rather than felt that he had downtime. The constant duty, the sense that he may need to draw either of his swords at a moments notice. Slimmer than a moments notice, even, for anything beyond that could mean death. The Samurai knew all-too-well.

Regardless, however, he felt downtime, and so chose to visit one of Iron's eateries: "I Four Blade It". A pun within a pun as the sign above the door showed a four armed Samurai. Some amusement would serve the Samurai well after such dark days.

It wasn't very crowded, Akio was able to pull up a seat directly in front of the bar where several patrons were already eating.

"Ramen." was what he ordered. When asked what kind, he responds "Surprise me."

He waited until he took off the helmet of his armor, he always dreaded removing every bit of his shell and showing his damaged interior. His armor too was something of a rarity, an indication of his rank.

While the food was prepared, Akio took a look around the building. He noted a few faces, and one which was auspiciously enclosed around several bodies, close enough so that Akio could identify them as guards. Not too surprising, Samurai would sometimes extend guardians upon various visiting dignitaries, although this man looked quite young. Akio ignored this. He could feel a meal arriving.

[sachi]

I sat at the bar with a bodyguard on each side of me, grizzled veterans much older than myself, but always open to a free drink. I don't think any of us liked spending this much time together, but if there was ever anything that we'd enjoy doing together, drinking was probably it - although, I had never really tried it before!

"This stays between us you two!"

We all shared a laugh as the bartender approached with a large bottle and three cups, pouring the warm liquid neatly to the rim of each one and dividing them amongst us. Yellow eyes stared down at my drink with curiosity before picking it up with my left hand, slowly inching it towards my mouth. I looked to my left and right, and with a nod exchanged between myself and my guards, we'd all down them at once. The warm sake went down harshly, it was my first time drinking and I wasn't prepared for such a strong taste, my face contorted like I'd just bit into a lemon - and this seemed awfully funny to my guards, Oda and Aki.

"New to this?"

Oda spoke between loud laughs, Aki cracking up along with him - these were men that had been drinking since before I was born after all! Still, I was determined to see what the excitement behind sake was all about, and as I took the bottle to pour another round for the three of us I'd notice two more samurai entering the inn - one seemingly fresh from a fight, and the other strangely familiar,

"Ramen?!"

I spun on my stool to face them directly, pausing briefly to cheers my two companions and down another drink, a warm sensation growing in my stomach,

"That seems awfully plain. . ."

I felt a sudden rush in my head, my movements feeling more. . . loose, and relaxing. Unbeknownst to me I was quite the lightweight when it came to alcohol, and I was already feeling its effects on me - maybe that's why I'd randomly decided to talk to two strangers,

". . . Wanna have a. . . a drink?!"

I held up the large white bottle in my hand, a stupid grin on my face as I did so. Oda and Aki exchanged looks and shrugged, they figured they'd let me do as I pleased.

"More cups!"

I spun back on my stool, filling all 3 of our cups, and then the two extra brought over by the bartender, before sliding them down rather accurately to the two new patrons, managing not to spill a drop in the process,

"Kanpai!"

Down the hatch!

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[That Guy]

Modoka had a mind that rarely stayed on focused on the target thoughts he desired. Why, even now the simple open ended thought of what tomorrow would bring was derailed constantly by his own senses. He stared at the counter directly in front of him processing the sounds and smells of the bar. At first the merriment of the boy and his guards distracted him and his eyes darted to their respective corners to view them. He was about Modoka's age it seemed but stretched out and lean, he drank but was new to the experience, and something in his voice was too carefree for Modoka. His companions were large, serious faced, and stiff though agreeable. They didn't seem to have a very friendly relationship so either guards or instructors.

Yet another samurai entered the restaurant sitting down and ordering a surprise ramen dish. He either didn't care or enjoyed surprises, but the tone in his voice seemed apathetic so he must not be a picky eater. Modoka's eyes darted to him now taking in his full armor that reflected the dim lights like obsidian. The large helmet on the table, the hilts of his blades, and even the armor made modoka slightly wary that he was in the presence of a high ranking samurai, but he was too tired to be nervous.

The smell of ramen wafting from the kitchen filled his nostrils and he smiled at the savory scent of beef as he turned his gaze back to the bar. Another smell accompanied it and Modoka judged it to likely be pork in the other man's ramen. The odors mingled and caused his mouth to water but just before he could truly appreciate the flavors in the air the younger of the two samurai seemed to make his own introduction to both Modoka and the dark samurai.

The scratching sound of sliding glasses across the counter top came across the restaurant and Modoka held out his hand. Snatching the glass off of the counter top quickly he allowed the second glass to pass just behind the second past him to the second samurai. He turned and with a brief smile to his comrade raised the glass, "Appreciate it. Cheers." He tossed the glass back and set it back down onto the table gently and awaited the ramen that was soon to come. Even now the sounds of the final preparations could be heard and derailed his thoughts from the kind gentleman back to the food. He was so hungry he was beginning to feel faint. His stomach didn't seem to care much for the alcohol on the empty stomach either...

[Tyro]

The trio down the bar seemed most exuberant in their recreation. Akio himself had trouble living up to such revelry. He used to be able to let go just as easily as the other Samurai had, and it was no indication of his rank that kept him nearly perpetually on-duty. It was the fact that he had experienced so much. Allowing the bladed warrior to put his guard down, especially when greeted with a concoction that may seem as innocent as alcohol, the most cardinal code of the Samurai was to deny the drink as easily as possible. He had no idea what could be mixed within the brew, but did know that even in it's most harmless state it would affect his ability. Render his readiness into a less effective state. He wouldn't chance it.

Which was why when his ramen arrived from another restaurant attendee while his shot of sake slide smoothly down the steady table, his left hand was brought up slowly and discreetly to intercept the drink with a small nudge, stopping it just next to him before he spoke.

"I am afraid I must deny. Alcohol would prove only to hinder all of our abilities."

His helmet was now off and placed to his left while his ramen smoked in front of him. Pork, judging by the aroma.

With his helm on Akio could be conceived as a terrifying figure of the pinnacle of Samurai, defender of peace. His comment on the drink could be taken by some as a near stalwart command with the authority of his helmet. With it off however, and the bald, gray, but mysteriously young man, the words gave an air of sullenness delivered by a sage whom had seen past his prime. Delivered as though this very alcohol had been the perpetrator that sapped him of a life better than that he currently lived.

He broke the chopsticks delivered with his meal, and gave a bow to his server, before taking the first bite. His mind was still on the men near him: the guards indulging themselves, the youngest looking who seemed eager simply to continue to breathe, and one that seemed wiser than his years though had still accepted the drink. His eyes stayed to his meal. But his mind remained on them.