Rippa paused in his thoughts as he sat on the roof of the barracks in the sword saints complex. His red robes hung open along his chest down to his navel before actually closing. Hanging loosely on his shoulders as if he didn't care to show some modesty. His white hair blew slightly in the warm breeze that passed along. The smells of summer mixed with the smells of metal and general training ground scents. Dirt, sweat, wood even the freshly cut grass nearby. His bare feet settled on the polished tiles of the roof. Some poor soul likely had been punished for messing up or lost a duel with a bet on it. Scrubbing the roofs was a task set for those who had earned such a difficult task. Though much like the rest of the dojo whoever it was had done a good job. The common goal of the dojo was perfection in anything you intend to do. His body shifted to the side as he sought more comfort. The blue jeans he was wearing didn't strain much even as they briefly caught on a piece of the roof. He wasn't really sure why he wanted to be there. Perhaps it was because it was so peaceful, or perhaps he had just experienced what it was to fly and now he felt like being in the sky all the time. If only it was an option. His blood wings frightened many and had once more brought the concern that he and his clan were evil beings from the citizens. However, blood had been associated easily with violence for a long time. It was to be expected of them by now to have grown afraid of it. And fear could only breed hate. It never solved anything. So Rippa avoided using blood techniques in public if only to keep from spreading fear.
Still he had paused in his thoughts and shifted as he sensed the messenger approaching from the entrance to the complex. His senses were fairly heightened in comparison to when he had been a genin not too long ago. He felt like it had been ages though. A new being entirely sat there now. No longer the weak med nin that just wanted to protect. He had the power now to save those he cared for. Still a messenger at this hour alerted him. It was unusual for them to seek anyone out this late yet alone him. He could tell the man was searching for him because missions for the non ranked members were just offered at the gate. No, this was something important. Something they wanted the captain for. His blue eyes already locked onto the spot where the messenger seemed to pop into existence at before the man even appeared there. The man seemed a little startled to see Rippa smiling and watching him with blue eyes. Another messenger who thought his stealth techniques were unparalleled. Still it seemed Rippa would have to speak first.
"You have something for me then? A task of some sort?" Was said with a warm and calm tone. The kind of tone a practiced doctor learned. A bedside manner Rippa still practiced.
"Ah yes Sir. We have reports of missing or attacked merchant trains in the rolling hills again. It appears the example your team set of the last group did not take sir. The Rolling hills are once more in need of your blade. The council requests you handle this in person sir. They think if the captain of the sword saints steps up to deal with this then it will discourage bandit activities in the future."
Rippa paused before he stroked the white stubble on his chin. He calmly looked back to the setting sun as he considered the request. It would be dark soon. Though, the darkness wouldn't hinder him much. The thing was before he was a part of a two man cell and only managed to deal with the given task because the other had been the power house that had given the jutsu he used the opening it needed. Still, he was not the same man he had been back then...the him from then wouldn't even compare to the him from now. Still he needed to decide if he could handle this. Inquire of more information. After all the person who charges in sword drawn and expects victory purely on brutality was likely to die the same way he fought...violently and quickly.
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