Roxas grit his teeth at Atsuko's words. Part of him believed the kid wouldn't accept such a crap job, but apparently he was feeling passive that day. He probably had some plan boiling in his brain. Most of the Uchiha that Roxas had come across in his life were crafty. Seemed like that also came with bad luck. Most of the Uchiha from his early rogue days were all dead or dissapeared. "Hm." Roxas said to the young Uchiha before going off in his own direction. Ever since he had been set free from the mines, Roxas grew very accustomed to following his own orders and no one elses. He had been the most obedient of the slaves since he had been raised as one. But the moment he met Kokoro and left after all the chaos something broke inside of him. Now there he was collecting trash for someone he didn't even know. His arm was feeling better at least. It didn't look pretty at all. Having a medic nearby wasn't too bad. Maybe forming a group would end up being a good thing after all. Unless something happened to them. Then it would just be another cycle of his life completing itself.
Roxas was a very strong individual. His body was built like a rock. Years of mining does that to a person. Maybe if he hadn't developed such an endurance the bear maul would've killed him. With this strength he could carry several bags of trash on both his shoulders over to the city hall. He didn't seem to struggle at all or show interest in the people passing by and watching him with curiosity. He thought back to something that Atsuko had said. Covering up his identity? Too late now he had left his mask with Artemis and she was gone. "Oh well." He mumbled just as a banana peel fell from one of the bags in front of his face. He didn't slip and that amused him for some reason. "Hehe." He giggled. An odd sight for those who knew him. Eventually someone stood in his path trying to figure out what he was going. Roxas simply side stepped the man leaving behind an image of himself. The man scratched his head in confusion as the after-image slowly faded.
[Kyozou - Side Step: E]
There it was. The Town Hall in all of it's glory. He noticed Atsuko wasn't around and wondered if his ally was completing the other menial task that had been given to the two. Either way he wouldn't wait to find out. Dumping all of the bags on the ground off of his shoulder he would wave to a few of the guards. The scowled at him before he even did anything. The walls of the Town Hall were surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the village. Roxas thought to himself that they must take their job of protecting a building very seriously. Be a shame if someone were to throw trash on their precious building. Roxas picked up the first bag with his good arm and tossed it with all his strength at the walls of the Town Hall. He wasn't a big fan of causing public disruption, but he told Atsuko the day they met that he would follow him and help the boy achieve his vision.
The bag flew and along with it followed the eyes of the guards. On impact it exploded smearing a yellow liquid all over the area of impact and specks flying farther. The trash slid and piled up on the floor. One of the guards shouted profanity at Roxas. Something about his mother. He sighed at the attempt to get to him. His mother was Lady Rosita, Grandma Fuu, Death Stary Mary and many more. They raised him. His real mother for all intents and purposes was dead or never existed in the first place. "You're gonna clean this up you maggot!" Another guard shouted as he approached roxas. The rogue himself was picking up another bag when the guard got up in his face. "Put it down and go clean up your s**t. And I wanna see you do it with your ******** tongue!" Roxas looked down at the guard with indifference and the bag still in his grip.
Roxas didn't even think twice about sending his fist straight into the guards jaw. He was getting in the way of Roxas' throw. The punch would leave an afterimage. Looking at his fist he squeezed. He was testing out his strength after the bear incident and everything seemed to be in order with his good arm at least. It had been a while since he had gotten himself into a brawl. He was feeling a little bit rusty on his techniques. "You better stand down. I have several other bags I need to dispose of." He spoke calmly to the passed out guard. More guards would run towards him.
[Kyozou - Ghost Strike: E]
Roxas used the bag to block the attacks from his assailants with a noble cause. For the first time he was feeling guilty for his actions as a rogue. They weren't in the wrong and he was attacking them for no apparent reason. He'd send another powerful blow towards one of the guard's face. This time the punch was of a different caliber and would send him flying. The guards scowled at Roxas and he dodged all of their blows while using the trash as aid. He was growing increasingly annoyed by them. Using the bags he would spill the contents over one of the guards and keep the bag over his head while the other would rush into him. Roxas would kick the bagged guard who in turn fell on top of his ally. The two struggled to get themselves back up while Roxas made his escape.
Atsuko was first to show at the pier, likely on purpose all things considered. Roxas was definitely faster then him. Finding the same man who gave him the missions in the first place he collected his payment and was quick to leave, not wanting to hang around for much longer.
● Flames of the Uchiha; Fire techniques are moderately increased in rank, flames have a blackish hue. Costs 10 Extra Chakra. ● Dragons Greed - 1.5x Ryo rewards from missions or jobs; With a love for wealth instilled by his chosen animal Saiji is particularly good and negotiating higher sums for missions or jobs. ● ●
Roxas was by himself now at the hangout for rogues in the under pass beneath the docks. He had completed his tasks and waited for another sign from the Rogue Head either directly or indirectly.
A woman approached him while he waited patiently in his usual silence. She noticed the sword on his back and asked him about it. Women were a weird thing for Roxas. The only one he had ever loved was Kokoro and at the same time she was the only one he'd ever gotten intimate with. When she died the prospect of finding someone else never occurred to him. It just wasn't a possibility after what had happened. This in turn caused him to develop a sort of shield towards women in general. Looking down at the woman he simply shrugged as if he didn't know any more about the sword than she did.
I just Haven't Seen It In A While That's All.
Posted: Thu Jul 27, 2017 11:09 am
The woman would linger for a few moments before moving on. As she traipsed away, a small piece of paper would tumble from her hair, catch a sudden breeze, and flatten against Roxas' chest.
Piece of Paper
The Herbal Furs employs a bespectacled man about your age but roughly four inches shorter. That man writes in a leather-bound journal while at work. Steal the journal and slip it into a gray briefcase under the docks. You can find it near the north end. (Thievery)
Next steal a keyring from inside a ship at the docks. The ship is called the 'Defiant'. You'll have to locate it first. It should have 11 keys on it. What you do with it afterward is your business. (Thievery)
Make your way to the main thoroughfare at around sunset and locate a young lady with brown hair in a tight bun, responds to the name "Ari". You may recognize her as one of the guards that patrols near the Herbal Furs. Pick a fight with her, throw a few hits her way, but duck out before you get arrested.Once you've done all three, return here. (Harassment)
Roxas placed his fingers on the small piece of paper to keep it from sliding down his chest. the series of missions this time around were much more enigmatic than before. Instead of causing disruption within the small society the man would find himself performing tasks that might've had some actual importance to the Rogue Head or maybe he was still being tested and these were just meant to appear important. He watched the woman walk away from him without glancing back and then left the underpass himself. [[exit]]
I just Haven't Seen It In A While That's All.
Posted: Wed Aug 02, 2017 8:35 pm
『 ♔ 』 "You may only call me Ōjo. "
Ōjo did not say anything, even as they walked along brusque, sometimes lewd, men along the docks. Her posture remained unchanging, and her steps silent, as dock-side market turned to bars, turned to warehouses, turned to the type 'businesses' many would call a dive, and wives would call divorce material. Entering at this portion of the district, Ōjo continued on without a single glance to those they walked past. One particular banshee made a grab for Ōjo, but the named 'princess' stopped short, missed being accosted and did nothing more than tilt her head to Houou, silent ordering him to get the drunk woman in rags away from her person. The poor civilian obviously had no coin to her name, and she begged for scraps of anything to be able to feed herself. Ōjo continued walking the same, straight, path once it was clear. She did not divert, did not appreciate dallying, and walked through puddles of filt and brine with barely a ripple under voluminous robes.
Soon, she was no-longer walking down small, crooked roads, but down the darkest of alleyways - and finally came to a stop, dead center...
"Do keep your nerves to yourself." She spoke to Houou. Ōjo herself appeared unaffected by the presence of what could be described as the sterotypical gangmember guarding a nearby door. He leered at Ōjo before knocking on the door in a code. "You only need to act the part, afterall." The part of what, she had never said.
Shou Senju
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Posted: Wed Aug 02, 2017 9:39 pm
▬▬▬▬▬┤|Houou Uzumaki|├▬
~D-Rank~~Rogue~~Eiseijutsu~~Bloodline~
Chak:: 350 Stam:: 190 Ryo: 2,930 AC:450
Houou was on alert simply passing the docks. He was a fresh face in the town and knew not the lay of the land, however he was well prepared to protect Ōjo to his dying breath. The young woman was very cold and off-putting but, somehow earned your respect with her very walk alone. As the alleyways became more narrow and contested, Houou would leave very little space between himself and Ōjo. He had not wanted even the slightest thing to go wrong, if need be, he would use himself as a shield, as she made her escape. Just as he was thinking of escape routs and scenarios, he noticed Ōjo had abruptly stopped and shift her head ever so slightly. He immediately side stepped her and grabbed the filthy woman, gently moving her to the side. He pitied the woman and handed her 20 Ryo when he thought Ōjo was blind to his actions. Quickening his pace, Houou ran up to Ōjo and secured the space around her as she continued walking. He was close enough to her that he could grab and pull her behind him if trouble were to arise to the front of them. Then they came to a stop... the building looked like the sort of place that criminal organizations hid in, but was far less impressive than his groups hideout. Houou need not respond to her warnings. She didn't know him from next Tuesday, but this was not enough to send the young man into a panic. Houou merely took in everything she said, without breaking eye contact with the guard at the door. However, his mind raced, retracing their steps and solidifying and escape route for Ōjo.
-20 Ryo
BlackFruity
Posted: Thu Aug 03, 2017 4:55 am
『 ♔ 』 "You may only call me Ōjo. "
Ōjo remained the unmovable porcaline doll. Even the natural breeze of the water, only a few blocks down the road they had travelled, did not move the heavy robes. Nor her hair. Obviously the work of cosmetics. Or perhaps there was a ninjutsu-using maiden that dressed her and applied chakra to keep the strands in place. As if to complement the lack of movement, Ōjo didn't blink, not as the door knocked upon by the gang member was opened from within, releasing the low rumblings of music and masculine laughter - as well as half a dozen burly, surly, tattooed, chain-wearing men. They came sauntering out, crude weapons in hand - to match their attitudes and manners, no doubt. At least they knew how to match their accessories. They all threw their eyes over Ōjo, assessing her as an object, while almost completely dismissing the Rogue behind her as any kind of threat. What was a royally dressed waifer of a woman and a lone male compared to these street-raised thugs?
The last of them to exit from the back door of what could be an unlisted bar, or the gang's potential HQ, was a tally, wirery man. Muscles covered his too thin body in thick chords. He clicked his tongue several times as he slumped out of the darkness, pupils as slight as needle points. He licks his lips in a long, overly-exaggerated, gesture and opens his mouth to speak. Ōjo's voice cuts through the air.
"You subverted our deal." Ōjo's voice slaps across the man's face, taking with it the curious side of his expression. "I don't expect you to return the stolen property. Not without force being apllied first." She added, though the lilt in her tone indicated the tacked-on sentence was for the gang members' sake rather than to be chatty. The gathered criminals only puffed themselves up further in amusement, letting out all sorts of snickering, guffaws, and cackles. The skinniest of them all, the apparent 'leader' of the current situation, lifted his arms to egg them on. He slowly turned on the spot, amusement clear and focus of his vision obviously not so.
"And you're the one to do it, little lady?" He tilted sideways, eyes finally looking at Houou. "You and you're little valet?" He looked to his fellow crew, encouraging them to laugh at his joke.
"Same-kēru." Scales of a shark. Ōjo still had yet to blink. The gang members all fell silent, their faces turning serious. Long seconds pass, the addled 'leader' fumbling for metaphorical ground around the sudden change in atmosphere. Perhaps was literally trying to find it as well.
"How d'you know that name?" He asks, voice slurring in its uncertainty. Ōjo remains as unmoving and silent as before. Another few seconds, and the wirery-framed man stumbles on nothing, causing several of the men, including himself, to retreat back inside. The handful remaining, shifted on the spot, suddenly weary. Ōjo tilted her head to Houou, motioned him closer with a tick of her chin, though her eyes remained staring straight ahead, peripheries taking in the length of the alleyway.
"You want to plead ignorence on what is about to occur, you will benefit in moving away. To the exit of the alleyway." She informed him, giving the Rogue an out if he wanted to have a clean conscious for... whatever was going on here. "If you can't keep secrets," Her gold eyes finally pinned themselves on Houou, to add weight to her words and their finality. "We'll kill you." Ōjo's head turned away, gazing straight down the alley before her - the gang member right in front of her tried to act nonchalant as he moved sideways to lean against the wall to their right.
The door banged open - hard enough to rebound back into the first of a line of criminals that started to pour out. The first was weilding a knife, and he shoved the door back with a thick arm - a tattoo of a long-haired blond pulled taught across it. The men that had already been standing outside were slow on the uptake, their weapons of choice hanging loose in their hands.
For the first time since their meeting, Houou would finally see Ōjo tilt her head down. Just slightly.
Shou Senju
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Posted: Thu Aug 03, 2017 4:52 pm
▬▬▬▬▬┤|Houou Uzumaki|├▬
~D-Rank~~Rogue~~Eiseijutsu~~Bloodline~
Chak:: 350 Stam:: 190 Ryo: 2,930 AC:450
Houou, in keeping with Ōjo's earlier words, maintained the same unmovable stance that his new employer had taken. He knew that he had to uphold the image of someone that was worthy enough to stand at her side. As the door opened to reveal several armed men, Houou's hands flinched as if to take stance for a full fledged fight, however he was stopped by his instincts. Ōjo had not moved a single inch, in fact, she seemed to welcome the thugs, as if to challenge them with her piercing aura alone. Houou took her lead and relaxed his body while showing no signs of worry, even though his mind was racing, counting the enemy's numbers, taking bit of their weapons, even the stances they had.
Houou could tell that these men weren't trained fighters. They were muscle bound mead heads that relied on their size and their numbers. As Houou stood assessing them all at once, he could hear every sound around him. The cat prancing in the alley, the wind blowing trash across the ground, even sounds of the chainsaw one of the thugs had brandished as a weapon. Though as usual, he couldn't hear a single word they were saying, lost in thought he could only see their mouths moving. In the silence he could see Ōjo's mouth move but he didn't make out what she had said, however it was enough to make the biggest of the bunch trip on thin air and stumble to the ground, while sending several men running inside.
Houou was still def to their words as he was still watching for a ambush or one of the thugs to make a move. That is, until Ōjo's voice rang through clear as day. This woman was a cut above the best warriors he had ever come in contact with. "Was she joking?" He thought to himself. Why would he come all this way just to back out like a coward now. These men were scum and he could tell just by the way they carried themselves. No matter what he thought, Ōjo's was very serious and Houou knew this once he had made eye contact with her, entrancing golden eyes, for the first time. Her gaze was enough to make Houou break character for but a split second. With his eyes widened and his right heel slightly lifted of the ground, Houou's instinct was to put distance between him and Ōjo. Houou was able to break eye contact, swallow the fear and return to his stance. Not a word needed to be said, as he would remain unmoved by her threat.
As Ōjo's gaze returned to the thugs, the doors burst open. Once more men flooded into the alley, in greater number than upon arrival. This time the men were definitely looking to fight. Houou thought it would be a tough fight, but he could take these this down without causing Ōjo any problems, but it seemed Ōjo had plans of her own. This would be a valuable lesson for him.
BlackFruity
Posted: Thu Aug 03, 2017 11:08 pm
『 ♔ 』 "You may only call me Ōjo. "
The moment the door banged open Ōjo's body was leaning away and her arms shifted. The slight tilt of her head gave her a brief flicker of sight on the man behind her but he appeared to remain steady on his spot. Without hesitation, her hands moved out of sight, hidden beneath the folds of thick material; her right hand slipped out of the left sleeve and - from a hold on the obi, the robe was pulled open without the bow being undone. To Houou, he would see the right side of the robe being pulled open, hand still hidden under the length of her sleeve, the immaculate bow hanging full and pristine with only its tails sharp movements showing any indication of something anywhere synonymously 'wrong.' The Rogue would not see what the left arm Ōjo was up to, only that her elbow sharply drew out from her body-
Fire spat forward from Ōjo's lower torso. A near dozen lion-headed spears were expelled in a horizontal, fan-like, manner, piercing and setting fire to the thugs that had not yet left the safety of the door way. The alleyway was lit up in gold before the screams and the smell began. The light had barely even began to fade and Ōjo was stepping forward, her robe still hanging open and revealing what lay beneath to the men brought low before her. The spears had pierced flesh like they were solid things, and had set alit to what little clothes they were wearing. The sheer heat had cauterised the very wounds they had inflicted, but the mens' constant movements and frantic scrabbling opened and broke the seals, allowing blood to run free. They cussed and cursed, but Ōjo stepped forward, undeterred. Droplettes of blood decorated the ground she had been standing on.
At the door to the back of the building the thugs were spawning from, the fire had given them pause, their confused shouts mixing incomprehensibly with the screams of pain. Ōjo took position outside of the door, the doorframe aflame, and she rose her right arm before her in a defensive gesture, the long sleeve falling down and revealing a slender limb covered in great patches of fresh scars - the skin puckered, pink, and shiny-new. Her forearm was facing down the entry way when the men before her began charging out once again - Ōjo brought an already bloody blade down across one patch of scars just under her wrist-
Wind shot from the newly broken skin, and rented and huge gash diagonally through the open door. And all that had gathered beyond it...
Ōjo flicked the blade in her left hand, sending a small wave of splintered, liquid rubies across the otherwise grey and - more recently added - scorched black wall. She stepped forward, as silent as before, with only the breadcrumbs of blood revealing the path she travelled. Ōjo spared no glance to Houou as she crossed the threshold and over the recently dead and dying. A few that had been held up at the back of the group were barely scathed, but all that was left of them were their footsteps as they rushed away. Filth and rubbish, but otherwise the storage room was empty. Broken crates and dust littered the floor.
Ōjo's head tilted in that curious way that indicated she was looking down with the peripherals of her vision and there was stillness for a moment. Ōjo's head straightened at the same time as she began moving forward once more - her steps and robe following the path of the least dust and debris. She opened the third door she came to and stepped in.
An open workspace. A handful of tables covered in second-hand chemistry sets were set before Ōjo and a raised platform where the hunched figure of an old woman was perched, gang members crowded behind her like boys behind their mother's skirt, putting on brave faces and arrogant airs. To the sides of the room, civilians stood, shaking. One was being held and dragged by two of the Same-kēru's goons. Ōjo walked further forward, stopping in the middle of the room. The old woman wore the fatigue of a hard, cruel life in the deep wrinkles and valleys of her skin. She was covered in blankets, and her hands like knotted tree limbs.
"Your life and the stolen property returned in exchange for no more deaths added." Ōjo spoke with the excitement of engaging in time-wasting chit-chat.
Shou Senju
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Posted: Fri Aug 04, 2017 1:10 am
▬▬▬▬▬┤|Houou Uzumaki|├▬
~D-Rank~~Rogue~~Eiseijutsu~~Bloodline~
Chak:: 350 Stam:: 190 Ryo: 2,930 AC:450
Houou couldn't process what he had just seen. In the time it took him to blink, Ōjo had already engaged the men flooding out of the building. Even though she made only the slightest movement, his first instinct was to jump into the fray and provide her with support and cover her blind spots. That is, until he was entranced by her incredibly unique fighting style. Ōjo hadn't moved as if she were on a battlefield, instead she had the graceful movements of a dancer. Ōjo's movements were so entrancing that Houou momentarily stopped looking at the thugs before them.
Houou felt as thou he should have averted his eyes, as he saw Ōjo's skin being revealed from behind the beautifully crafted robes. This was such an unorthodox series of movements that he still had not moved from his spot, he was entirely too relaxed as he observed from afar. This wasn't a testament to his lack of experience, on the contrary, this was proof of Ōjo's power. Houou was relaxed because he felt safe in her presence.
Suddenly, with a dazzling blaze of light, Ōjo cast her first jutsu upon the men that had greatly underestimated her mere moments before. The flaming, lion headed spears, burst forward forward with great speed. Such speed, that not even Houou had time to cover his eyes before he was slightly blinded by the light that was being emitted. Raising his right forearm just above his eyes and averting his gaze downward, he attempted to block any further blindness the flames would cause, being sure not to completely take his eyes off Ōjo.
As he was looking to Ōjo's lower half, he noticed that she was gracefully moving forward, in that stalking silent manner he was becoming accustomed to. With a quick fluid movement he dropped he's arm and matched her pace, while keeping a safe distance. Houou had to squint his eyes while keeping up with Ōjo, because the men before them were still ablaze, screaming and writhing in pan on the ground. This woman had to have seen many battles in her lifetime. These were not the skills of some casual shinobi that just practiced in the village.
Houou watched as she viciously cut down her opponents, with elegance and poise. Never before had he seen a battle that left him mesmerized and utterly terrified. Making her way to the back of the building, Houou trailed behind like a baby duckling. Until they came upon the final room where a mysterious elder sat hunched over in a most uncomfortable looking manner. As Ōjo had her eyes locked onto the elderly lady, Houou assessed the room. Taking in the posture and location of every single person in the room, he noticed that not all of them were hired thugs. Two of the thugs seemed to be dragging a defenses civilian across the floor.
Enraged, Houou clenched his fist and began shaking with anger. He had hated to see bland being treated in such a manner. Having composed himself he stayed his ground, knowing that needed to to remain at Ōjo's rear, in case of an attack from behind. This was not the time for him to act recklessly.
Ōjo spoke of the stolen equipment and the crimes that had been committed against her. This woman was a ruthless force to be reckoned with but, Houou was glad that she acted in retaliation and not just on a random killing spree. The old woman had chosen the wrong person to steal from. Houou waited patiently for Ōjo to finish her chat and make her next move. However he knew what was coming. The old woman sitting in the chair, had seen the end of her days.
BlackFruity
Posted: Fri Aug 04, 2017 3:00 am
『 ♔ 』 "You may only call me Ōjo. "
Silence prevailed between Ōjo and Same-kēru while the scuffling of a young man's feet sounded off to the side. The caught civilian looked no older than his thirties, with half-moon glasses perched on a thin nose and the expression of someone entirely fed up with the situation. His lab coat was twisted up and dirty in the grip of the men either side of him, and the bruise on his left jaw showed his resistance was probably a token show more than anything that would actually earn another blow to his person. Same-kēru sighed and turned her head to the side. A bear of a man - in hair and bulk - quickly knelt down beside the feeble woman and bent his head close to her rasping words.
Over the empty space and silent air between them, Same-kēru's words were just audible enough to make out the vague idea of the sentence. But what spoke more, to those listening, was the unnatural, degenerated, rasp to her words. There was pain and something lethal infecting the flesh that sounded her words. The Bear bowed his head for a long second before speaking through the thick curls of a beard.
"Ma Same-kēru wants to know what assurances she has you'll keep your word." He grunted. Bear sounded reluctant, and his eyes kept darting back to the hunched woman as though to make sure what he was saying was correct.
"The temperement of your men when you die." Ōjo replied. Said gang members shifted, but all Same-kēru did was turn her head to her Bear once more. The old woman's broken voice tinkered through the air, matching the used and grimy beakers and testtubes before them. Ōjo allowed several long minutes of conversation to pass, the blood dripping down her left arm and leg having made two small pools beneath her, disguised in the shadow and long material of her robe. As time wore on, the man grew more resistant to what the old woman was saying until-
"Let an old girl have this choice." Same-kēru's voice was as cringe-worthy as rusted metal on a chalkboard. It was unnatural and pained. The Bear and Shark stared into each others eyes for a tense moment. The Bear backed down with a lowered head. He rose onto his feet and, with great resistance from the men behind him, ordered them out through another passage way, out of Ōjo's view due to some stacked crates. The two brutes holding the civilian were the last to relent - the moment their hands were loose enough the lab- coat wearing blond briskly walked over to Ōjo, taking a spot behind her while giving a curious look to Houou. When it was only the three of them in the room, the haggered woman sighed, and nodded, motioning Ōjo forward with a painful wave of her hand. "Make this ironic, girl. Give me what I've been peddling all these years as my death." Ōjo didn't hesitate.
"Taka." She spoke, and the blond man jumped. "Do as she asks." He does hesitate. Enough so that Ōjo tilts her head to the side and side-eyes him with an unwavering stare. With a small huff, he puts on an act of bravery and walks to one of the chemistry sets. Clinking of glass fills the room and Ōjo's head returns to its straight forward stare, her hands clasping the robe shut properly once more and setting her hands into the sleeves. Blood no-longer ran down her limbs.
"This..." The man called Taka stuttered in his approach and speech to Ōjo. He held a needle filled with clear liquid. "This is unrefined. It'll be painless." Outside, in the hallway, the Gang Members launched their attack on Houou.
Shou Senju
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Posted: Fri Aug 04, 2017 9:32 pm
▬▬▬▬▬┤|Houou Uzumaki|├▬
~D-Rank~~Rogue~~Eiseijutsu~~Bloodline~
Chak:: 350 Stam:: 190 Ryo: 2,930 AC:450
Houou watched as the group of thugs made haste for the back door. He was unsure of their plan but he couldn't let them go and call for more backup, causing Ōjo more problems than necessary. Houou quickly formed several hand seals, ending with a clap. Beside him appeared an identical clone. Houou's clone gave chase, following them out of the door. Meanwhile Houou quickly made haste to cut them off in the alley, only to find that they had been laying in wait, hoping to ambush the young shinobi. Lucky for him, they had encountered his clone and had not seen him.
Houou would need to finish this quickly. Ōjo wouldn't appreciate him leaving her alone for too long. Lucky for Houou, all his opponents were facing one direction down the alleyway. He counted 5 thugs and they were all armed with various weapons. Two of them stood out front and carried small knives. One in the center carried a long metal pipe. To the left, stood a man brandishing a single brass knuckles, held in his left hand. Finally to the rear, stood the largest of the group, a massive man wielding a sledge hammer.
Leading with his right side, Houou took stance, spreading his legs shoulder length apart, left leg positioned behind the right. Raising his his arms, he would bring his left fist up as if to block his head, while his right arm was stretched forward, hand open, palm down. He was outnumbered but not outclassed. He had not learned many jutsu, but he was proficient in mobility and he had a few tricks up his sleeve. He knew the thugs had underestimated him, subsequently leading them to attack first.
Just as Houou had anticipated the first two, knife wielding thugs, had advanced. Their movements were uncoordinated and they telegraphed their movements. Houou remained unmoved as the first of the knife wielders, lunged at him, with a thrust of his knife. Houou maneuvered his right hand around the knife, grabbing the thugs wrist. Using the thugs momentum Houou would pull the thugs wrist downward, throwing the thug off balance. With a twist of his hips, Houou would throw a massive left punch connecting with the thugs jaw. As the thug went limp, falling to the ground Houou loosens his grip on the mans wrist. As he loosened his grip, he slid the knife out of the thugs hand. Untwisting his hips, Houou threw the knife at the second thug with great force. Unsuspecting, he second thug took the knife right in the chest, stopping in his tracks.
Houou had not seen the thug with brass knuckles begin his advance. But it was too late, the thugs knuckles had connected with Houou's clone causing it to burst into a cloud of smoke. All of the thugs looked on with confusion. Taking advantage of their disoriented state, Houou dipped from the rooftops above with a Kunai in hand. Landing directly on top of the the biggest thug, digging the Kunai deep into the mans spine.
Before the remaining 2 thugs had time to react. Houou pulled the Kunai out of the corpses spine and launched it at the thug with the brass knuckles, who had been the furthest away. The Kunai sailed past the closest thug, the wind force kicking up his hair, forcing his head to turn. By the time he had turned around to see Houou, his comrade had taken the Kunai to the back of his skull and plummeted to the ground. Hearing the noise he whipped his head back around to see his friend had fallen. Houou immediately moved to close the gap, taking advantage of the confusion. The thug heard Houou's footsteps and viciously swung his steel pipe hoping to hit Houou with a wild shot. Houou instantly ducking the wild attack, crouched down low. As the thug put too much strength into his swing, Houou capitalized on the now wide open target. Launching a deadly uppercut, Houou connected with the thugs chin, sending him off his feet and onto his back.
Houou had effectively disposed of the runaway thugs and immediately made a sprint back for Ōjo. He knew he had nothing to worry about, but as a shinobi, he had to keep his hard up at all times. Ōjo hadn't moved an inch as she carried on with the conversation she started earlier. Who was this old woman, and why had she been foolish enough to steal from Ōjo?
The second task on his pawn to-do list also involved stealing. His eyes read the words slowly as his mind raced back to when he met Atsuko. The boy had promised him a world where justice and freedom were preserved above all else. The cruel world would not longer be tolerated. Yet here he was stealing. In his solo rogue days his jobs were all typically bingo book bounties. Stealing was beneath him. He had to remember that it was all for a greater good. "Defiant" He read quietly to himself at the docks. Several ships awaiting their captains under the rising sun's glare. The sea gulls flying over the ships in search for food either in the water or on deck. Roxas had to find out which ship was named Defiant and then go through the process of finding a small key ring. With a sigh he put the note away and began his search.
Roxas took in the salty air. Most ships had their names painted on them, but he had spat on someone's grave apparently and luck was not on his side. He couldn't just ask someone which one was named Defiant. Or could he? He saw a group of men preparing for another days work and used his transformation jutsu once again. This time taking the form of the store keeper from before. The girl had a frail and innocent look to her that would be enough to fool the men who spent their entire lives out at sea away from women. Strolling up to the group, Roxas waved gaining the attention of the three fools. It made him quite sad how easily men could be decieved. He asked them about a ship named Defiant and they pointed it out to him. They asked him why of the question and he could only think of one thing to say. "I like boats!" He said in a giddy way like he imagined a girl would do. With that he was gone practically skipping away. The men watched him leave slack jawed at the oddness of the whole situation.
Roxas knocked out one of the defiant sailors and used transformation jutsu to take his appearance. The rogue hid the unconscious body in an empty barrel. Hopefully no one would disturb his slumber before Roxas was gone. Checking each room in the ship proved harder than he expected. Eyes were watching his every movement even if he did have the appearance of one of them. After about an hour doing menial labor and stalking for openings, Roxas made it into the captain's cabin. Once inside he would lock the door behind him and begin his search. He was sure the keys were in there. Rifling through the captain's drawers the rogue would eventually luck out and find them. He counted each key just to make sure. When he hit 11 the door called his attention. Someone was trying to get inside.
"Who's in there?!" The captain shouted. His tone did not hide his fury. It was pretty obvious what was happening. Only the captain should be in that room with the door locked. Any other scenario denounced foul play. Roxas sighed thinking about peaceful ways to get out of the situation he put himself in. "I'm out." He mumbled stuffing the keys into his pocket. The captain would meet a flying door against his face and fall flat on his back. Roxas would step on the door while pressing the captain further against the ground. The crew looked at him with shock in their eyes. Roxas sighed still standing on top of the captain before raising his right arm slowly.
With a frown on his face, Roxas awaited another sign from the rogue head. All of his missions had been completed successfully. The only thing that bugged him was the fact that they didn't tell him what he was supposed to do with the keys.
