It was a surprisingly lovely day in Mizu no Kuni. The sun was out, only a few light grey clouds dotting the sky, and birds of various shapes and sizes flew from place to place, their morning chorus filling the air. The Osada manor, still in a state of disrepair and overgrowth, stood lonely, almost barren, and were it just like this, perhaps it would have made a wonderful photograph. However life was ironic like that. And the songs of the birds only served as a reminder of how out of place things can be. Things such as sensory stimulation. Like smell, for instance. A reek, putrid, pungent stench hung heavy and flat in the air, the smell of what was almost metallic, rotten, and all things wrong. It was the stench of death, as corpses littered the area surrounding the Osada manor, all throughout the island. The people whom the bodies once belonged to could have come from anywhere. Been anyone. However something the deceased all had in common, was that they had attempted to besiege the building. All had tried. All had failed, and so paid the consequence with the toll that was their life.

Further contrasting the atmosphere of life and death, a lone girl of lithe stature stood, black back in hand. Her long black hair tied up neatly in a ponytail, highlights seeming surprisingly dim compared to the light atmosphere and air of the surroundings, however in reality still quite light. Her garb is a variety of greys, all of different shades and tints, while a forehead protector on her shoulder signifies that this person is a shinobi. On her left arm, standing out stark against the greys of her attire, a black and purple striped arm band stretches, covering from her wrist to elbow. The pale of her skin only seems to highlight the deep amber of her eyes. But perhaps most queer, is that atop of her head, covered in light ridges and nooks that confirm the authenticity of it, is a pair of small, nubby horns. At her feet, which were protected by combat boots, was something that appeared to be gasoline. This person, this odd girl, is Alwen Sangotatsu. And on this day, she was assigned the task of body removal. A truly lovely task.

Face plastered with a grimace at the task ahead of her, Alwen took a step towards the nearest body. She considered herself fortunate, the body lying face down allowing her to avoid the look of final anguish on the departed. Seeing someone’s final suffering in their face would likely not be good for mental health. In fact, it’d be quite psychologically damaging, especially in such a large number. Fortunately the mission requirements don’t state to remove all of the bodies. Just to assist in the clearing up. By taking out some bodies herself. With a sigh, she began to shoot water out from her mouth, a small puddle forming in the ground. It was an odd use for the technique, but if possible she’d have preferred to not touch the body. Then holding out the hand that didn’t already have its grasp on the black body bag, she proceeded to manipulate the water, gathering it specifically around the head of the body. Lifting the water, and also the body, Alwen proceeded to put the bag over the head of the body. It was unpleasant, but as she told herself, it had to be done. Who else was going to do it? Nobody answering her thoughts rhetorical question confirmed two things. Her point, and that she was indeed weird.

The head of the body now in the bag, Alwen let her hold of the water drop. Leaning down, she then grabbed a hold of the rest of the body, pushing it into the bag. A pleasant moment that, with a resolute nod, the Sangotatsu had concluded she would not be reminding herself of. With a glance, she looked around, trying to find a location where lots of bodies were gathered. Having concluded where the nearest group of cadavers were, Alwen dragged the body bag in that direction. With a thud, she emptied the bag, the body tumbling next to another corpse. Gross, but necessary. Forming hand seals at a rather slow pace, water begins to gather next to the siren child, gathering in the shape and posture of none other than Alwen herself. Water clone created, Alwen turned to recover the gasoline she’d left at her previous location. In the meantime, her water clone began forming the seals to make a clone of its own. This repeated until there were a total of three clones. It was a lot of her chakra drained, so she wanted to take the easiest approach. Watching and waiting, Alwen simply held the gasoline as the group of clones gathered the bodies, dragging them to the one she’d dumped before, and piling them on top of it. It was gruesome, and she was glad she thought of making her clones do it instead, but that didn’t stop it from being unpleasant. Death was never pleasant. It was never going to be pleasant.

The body pile made, the little sea witch frowned, covering it in gasoline as she dispelled her clones one by one, water splashing needlessly into the dark, dying grass. From there, she led a trail of the flammable liquid a distance from the body. Of course, the grass being dying would make it flammable, so to get rid of the hazard, she manipulated the water once more, wetting the grass as much as she could in the surrounding area. This left just one thing more to do. At the end of her gasoline trail, Alwen leant down, hand just above the trail. Focusing Raiton chakra into the tips of her fingers, the trail ignited in flames at the small spark, fire flickering along the line before erupting on the bodies, the smell of burning flesh complimenting the horror of the crackling as the skin burns. This was not a pleasant experience for the shinobi, who up until then had done her best to avoid death. It wasn’t that she was unfamiliar. In fact, memories of her dead brother entered her mind as she stared at the light burns covering the tip of her hand. It annoyed her that the employer hadn’t provided a method of ignition for the fire. Improvisation with Raiton often resulted in a burnt hand. It wasn’t something major, as she could always heal it with medical ninjutsu. A handy skill, one that she had taught herself to try prove a point, and become a medic good enough to save people unlike those that failed her brother. But, the more she used it, the less it appealed to her. It was just so… Slow. So undynamic. She’d heard rumours of medical nin that could save lives in an instant, or survive wounds that would prove fatal to anyone else but… It just didn’t feel right. There was no fluidity. No ability to switch it up in an instant. If you heal a wound, you either commit, or you stop. A style that really didn’t suit her.

Satisfied that the bodies would burn into an ash, her job done, Alwen walked towards the shore, deciding to contemplate. Perhaps she could aspire to be a hunter nin? Doing so would allow her to see the world, learn of things that lie outside of the country’s borders. But no. She was loyal to Kirigakure. So much so that leaving would not be something she’d deem in her interest. Especially not when there were places such as Sunagakure. So much heat… So little water… The thought caused an involuntary shiver from the sea witch. The hunter nin were loyal, and if the ANBU were a shield, the hunters were the spear. That alone made both professions, both placements, something of envy. Then there was the prideful, loyal swordsman. The Seven. Great shinobi and swordsmen who are more dedicated to the village than to even the mizukage herself. Weapon masters, and defenders of Kirigakure with their life. A grin spread across her face. The honour of defending Kirigakure would be perfect for her, and she would love to. With her life, and her skills, she nodded, a new goal for life in her mind. Surely her brother would be proud. Except there was a slight problem. She didn’t know how to use weapons very well, only having basic knowledge of her water whip. Even then, it wasn’t great whip use, just basic. She’d have to find a teacher. Someone who knew at least basic weapon skills. With a grin, she nodded, leaning back, and resting while she could, preparing for the next part of her stay at Osada manor.

1467 WC DONE
[EXIT THREAD]

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