It was not as though the malady that has so vexed me since landing on the Eastern shores had let up. Indeed it was still there a blight digging deep into the marrow of my bones. Merely walking through the streets without groaning at the various aches and pains was proving to be training in fortitude. However upon seeing the brisk light of dawn something within my stomach rumbled and I knew that whether or not my innards desired it I would be in need of sustenance both solid and liquid. Kirigakure was not unpleasant to the eyes and as I walked through the streets and thoroughfares of the city I noted its aquatic charm. 

The architecture of the place lacked some of the severity found in my home in the West. Frequent earthquakes and dangerous tidal phenomenon had clearly given the locals a reason to build light. Heavy stone dwellings and sprawling manor houses were all very well in a land where cold was the fiercest deterrent to human habitation but this was a very different place and thus ran by its own set of rules. 

My hearing tuned into the words of the townsfolk as they went about their daily business. The language was not as clear or concise as that of the Mizukage - Ayakashi who I had spoken with the previous day. That was normal however, as commoners speaking among themselves didn't need the rules and forms of court language in their speech. I gleaned the general gist though , it seemed that just like in my homeland of Teuton the love-lives of others and various scandals that spawned in court held sway.

The vast majority of the passers by gave me uneasy looks with some moving out of the way to avoid being in my general vicinity. Though it seemed people here differed greatly when it came to things such as skin/hair color and features my height was enough to enough to mark me as an outsider. How much would this reaction have been magnified were I wearing plate and mail I wondered to myself? 

A rumble from my stomach and an ache in the back of my neck reminded my of my initial course of action - Breakfast. My understanding of what was referred to as Kanji was limited but outside one of the shops a sign bore what I read to be hot beverages. 

Ducking slightly as I entered through the glass door I took in the surroundings. A nice enough establishment tastefully furnished and bearing an warm atmosphere. The maiden serving seemed to be just on the cusp of womanhood at an age where her parents would be sorting out a potential marriage prospect were she of western descent.

Her hair was perhaps the girls most striking feature - almost as if she had received a partial touch of albinism though whatever force bestowed such things had stopped halfway leaving one side still dark blue. Her clothes if worn in the wrong district in my homeland could be considered scandalous as they displayed the newly formed but ample curves of her form though it seemed the custom to wear much less as seen with the Mizukage. 

Ignoring what could be the first step towards a social faux-par I did not remark about the girls manner of dress but rather inquired as to the contents of the menu. 

"A fair morning to you lass. I would be honored if you could explain to me what the people of this city prefer when it comes to a hearty breakfast. I have traveled a long way and my appetite is only just returning".

(608 Words)

 

Sero moved through the streets having turned in the herbs for the mission. The travel from the woods had led him well into the morning. He felt nothing as usual towards it. Not the warmth of the sun on his skin, not the chill left over from the night before. With the day the mist had faded to a mere thin blanket. Still he had made his way to his home and dropped off the bag of...trophies on the other side of the bridge. He had noticed some stares as the bag had dripped blood on his way through town with the herbs. It wasn't hard to guess what the round shapes within were. Someone had crossed his path again. Some criminals no longer drew breath. But that was his job as a shinobi. His cold grey eyes showed little remorse or life for that matter. His flat expression hinted nothing towards his thoughts yet his gaze seemed to absorb everything before him. He barely walked in the door of his home before discarding all but two of his weapons. The katana and the Wakizashi on his left hip. His grey robes tied tight around his form as his grey boots shifted and he exited once more. Dots of blood were scattered along his robe from his previous task. The bottom of the robes which started slightly above the ankles seemed to have been dipped in blood as did the edge of his sleeves. Dried in the last couple of hours since he caused the blood shed.

Still he decided to step away from his comfort zone for once. Move away from his island of solitude and step into public. It never ended well. He couldn't contain his aura. He never could. Even as a small child it had dominated him. As he moved back across the bridge he did so without bothering to look at those he passed. Anyone near him could feel it. Something nearby wasn't human. Something was stalking the frigid air around them, each shadow seemed to stretch and claw at them. Each moment near him was like a blade placed against the throat. They watched him knowing if he felt they were his enemy they would die. It wasn't a question of if he could. Unlike other shinobi no one felt safe near him. Children cried and mothers herded them away. A path seemed to clear for Sero as he walked. As if the people split for him. No one wanted to have the misfortune of being approached by this man. Still his Kiri headband around his neck marked him for what he was. A shinobi of the mist. Ayakashi had tried to mold him differently but it was his very nature.

Still the people in the coffee shop would feel it as he entered. It was as if the light was being sucked out of the room. As if pure darkness had entered. His pale hand closed the door behind him and even the bell on the door seemed dulled around him. His grey eyes seemed to have no life, like the eyes of the dead as he looked around. He was after a table it seemed. He wasn't sure if he would be asked to leave or if they would avoid him and let him eat. Not many had the inner strength to approach him despite his aura. He stepped forward away from the door. Each step like the toll of the church bell over a burial grounds. He seemed to see everything the moment he took that step. As if being under his gaze let him read the darkest parts of your soul. As if fighting would end in blood, and running would be pointless. When he was just here for tea it felt like he might consume them all.

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OOC note I actually have Monstrous aura as a negative special characteristic. It can not be turned off.