01 - 02: fifty-seven steps forward. [open] Aug 12, 2015 10:35:18 GMT -8
Post by matsumoto-kun on Aug 12, 2015 10:35:18 GMT -8
The temperature tends to drop, in the desert. What would be scalding during the afternoon would otherwise become frozen in the evening. The cool of the night was often represented by the subtle looming of the moon over an endless plain of sand, soil, and death. Whatever life had attempted to survive in this place was often met with disappointment. This was one such night. However, the plains seemed much less endless within the city limits. The warmth of the city was decent, but the occasional fog of breath would escape one's lips. It wasn't uncomfortable, at least to those who had grown familiar with the way the desert worked- it was just different. How trite to have had such a reverent number of meetings under the veil of nightfall, but at the age of young adolescence, and no parents to tell one to set a bed time, souls were often found wandering the streets and alleyways.
Ushinawa's feet carried him down the street in a daze of sound. The street lamps and vendor signs illuminated his pale features as he seemed to hum a tune which had been caught in the trappings of his head for at least the past hour. It was a folk tune, one that he was very much unfamiliar with until earlier that day; something from Hi no Kuni. He had never been outside of this wasteland, so perhaps the sound of this tune gave him the feeling of travel, of escape. He hadn't gotten too much into it, otherwise being a blunt instrument of existential questions such as these. He had never considered the possibility of leaving. He had never considered the possibility of escape. He was trapped here both physically and ethereally. His soul was that of the desert.
It didn't take much time for the senseless wandering to grow full for the genin. Before long his pallet was parched, and his stomach was empty. What resulted wouldn't come as much of a surprise. The name of the establishment was 'The Red Rook,' no doubt related to the game of Shogi that he had been introduced to upon his time in the academy. Fake battle amused him, so perhaps he could sharpen his skills within these walls. What he found instead was a lot of two. Old men who seemed to have nothing more than time to waste on the perfection of their game. Straddling the threshold, he debated entering- but something seemed to be calling him, prodding him, to enter.