It was raining. Except not really, because this was Sunagakure no Sato. No, it was far from raining, the sun beating down on the sandstone and sand ground, people in light cloths and comfortable attire walking back and forth in the midday rush hours of activity that often befell the streets of the Bazaar. And among such a busy mess of people, weaving in and out, was one of Suna’s many odd individuals; Midori of the Ningyou clan. Her expression was neutral, eyes scanning the area for anything of interest. Her attire was simple, short sleeved, and beige. Her hair swayed with the spring in her step, something which was completely odd compared to the basic, blank look upon her face. Yet perhaps most… Odd about this lithe figure was her right arm – where one would expect flesh, instead was wood, a replica of a human arm carved intricately, and with varying joints and segments throughout – mechanisms that worked to allow function.

But, the puppet armed girl soon lost interest in the markets and busy streets. The Ningyou weren’t the largest clan in Suna, so people still found it odd that someone would walk around with a prosthetic arm made of wood. The looks were always uncomfortable, so, she didn’t intend to stick around, even if the expression on her face was as neutral as ever. Midori continued walking, getting out of the main crowd, her steps light on the grains of the sand. She didn’t really have any particular place she was going, at this point just walking for the sake of walking. The puppet nut hummed to herself, a little tune to keep herself from getting bored, and upon heading out of the Bazaar entirely and back into the open parts of the sand village, the girl did what any bored person would do – found the nearest wall, climbed it, and then sat down.

People walked past, and as they did, Midori simply watched, taking note of how many were shinobi, how many were dressed in colours, fashion, or the attire one would expect from a thug. Anything really. To her, it helped her get perspective – to truly realise that each of those that passed was a person, and a person within the sand village. Whether from a higher or lower deemed upbringing, they were members of the village, and for that reason, they were of interest to her. She hummed and giggled, swinging her legs back and forth while on the wall. As she felt the sun beat down upon her shoulders once more, and felt the smooth movements of her prosthetic joints, Midori felt good, and her pride about the village felt like it was ever increasing. She took out her hitae ate from her weapons pouch, before proudly putting it on at her forehead, showing the symbol of Sunagakure plain and clear.

This day was a good day.

483

The day was just like any other within Sunagakure: freaking hot and sweaty. Everyone was going about their usually business. Men were making their way to their jobs. Women were shopping for groceries and their own interests. Children were heading to either school or the Academy. Everybody else just mixed in. Despite the constant commotion caused by gangs and the fact that they live in a desert, Sunagakure is always bustling with activity. However, not everyone had a particular purpose or goal. Nor was everyone readily accepted by most. There were clans that not many people understood and, thus, were ignorant about them and their customs. Among these were judged and frowned upon was a small family of Jiendo who lived in the Slums. The most prominent member of the family was Zaiaku Koran...namely because he actually left the house the most and was a shinobi.

All of his life, the grey giant has been looked up with scared and curious eyes. People either discretely avoided him or actively referred to him and his kin as demons. Even if he was the shinobi who was saving their life, there were many who simply backed away cautiously, hoping that they don't anger the beast. And yet, he still tried. He didn't know why, but he did. Of course that doesn't make him a great or even good person. Especially with the amount of things he is willing to do should it be part of the mission. In a way, some of the views of the villagers were justified. Not that he cared. They don't care either... He thought to himself as he made his way the Bazaar, the gigantic tent covering it already coming into view. He didn't need to buy anything. More so, he was just wandering about the village to pass the time.

He wore nothing but a simple pair of black pants and sandals. His upper torso was bare, showing off his muscular form. Red tattoos dotted his body. Upon his lower back were two red circles which extended onto his front side, forming another two circles. Between his shoulder blades was similar circle which formed two lines that extended over his shoulders and onto his collarbone. Just like the last tattoo, it too ended in two circles. Two more lines branched off from the original two and scaled onto his head and face, turning to his ears and ending there was well with circles. Upon his waist was his headband, denoting his status as a shinobi. He was currently walking with a straightened form, showing off his immense height. The average man hardly stood above his hips at full height. His fists were balled up as he walked confidently, not noticing a passed by a certain kugutsu-user who propped against a wall.

WC: 472
TWC: 472

Midori continued to watch as people came and went, came and went, and came and went. It was incredibly repetitive and boring, nothing that stood out. That is, until the person that literally stood a good two foot above everyone else was walking around. Plus he was grey… Most people didn’t tend to be grey. Plus red markings covering his body… Yet most importantly to Midori was, that at the location where she could see clothes, there was a symbol of Sunagakure – and a symbol that he is a shinobi. Thoughts rushed through her head, before, quite quickly, she got an idea, smiling wide as she hopped up to stand on the wall completely, tweaking with the part of her prosthetic that joined it to the shoulder in a way that shall be revealed in due time… Then, with a nod to herself at her apparent genius, or lack thereof, she formed the seal for the transformation technique, poofing in a cloud of smoke, before taking the form of herself with everything the same – except her arm, which looked just like a normal limb, and not a puppet arm.

Then, with spry, and energy like a child in a candy shop, Midori hopped from the wall, intending on landing and rolling magnificently… And instead face planting into the sand with a loud plop.

After groaning for a moment, she quickly hopped back up, instantly getting her energy back and running after the grey big guy that had already started to walk away. Actually, given that he wasn’t wearing a shirt… Was he really grey, or, was it just a really small person in a giant suit? Regardless, she made sure to run, having to practically sprint to catch up to the walking guy and overtake, rushing in front of him with a haste and urgency that really, really weren’t needed. Suddenly, with a salute that came out of nowhere, she stood in front of him so as to prevent him from walking on. “Hey there! Big guy, or, potentially small guy in a suit! You look cool, and, we’re both shinobi of the sand! I’m Midori, and I challenge you…” she fell quiet, leaning down and moving her hands together before spinning around, jumping up, and pointing at him. “To an arm wrestle! I’m a genuine, bonafide genin, and a medic, so, don’t worry – if you lose too badly, I can heal you up.”

She gave a giggle and a grin, not waiting at all for the person to respond, and instead trying to move her right arm as little as possible, not wishing to allow it to be obvious that it was, well, fake. The melon lord had a plan, and when that occurs, it’s usually a bad idea. Especially if it’s a plan born from her lack of understanding social conventions. Midori was used to missions, and working. Social? Tended to be a bad idea with the… Passionate person that was Midori, and her love of being weird.

500 + 483 = 983

Chakra: 115/120 (-5 for Transformation technique)

Jutsu used:

Zaiaku would hear the distinctive "poof" sound of a jutsu behind him. Upon turning around to see who or what performed it, however, he simply watched as some girl fell face first onto the hot desert ground. Watching her as she stood, he noticed the headband she wore. She was a shinobi like him. She would then proceed to rush in-front of him and....salute? Zaiaku was visibly surprised at this gesture. Most people tend to completely walk different directions to avoid him and yet here is this random kunoichi, saluting him. Before he could put more thought into this subject, the girl would speaking. She challenged him to a simple arm wrestle, her exaggerated movements seemingly solidifying her decree.

In any case, this was rather expected. It was rare that someone would willing walk up to him and talk to him. Let alone challenge him to something. Looking down, he observed the girl. Basic clothing that were colored beige. Short-sleeved. No real muscle definition at all. In-fact, one could say she was even underweight. Though she didn't seem at the very least imposing, she was a shinobi. Adding on the fact he heard a jutsu performed not 10 seconds before this girl ran up to him...well....it was rather suspect. After a momentary silence, Zaiaku's disinterested and monotone face remained unchanged as his hand slowly rose. The movement was not in an aggressive gesture. Rather, as it was as if it were to extend it forward.

Despite this, was sudden speed, the giant would lash out and attempt to face his left hand on the left side of her face. Should this be successful, he would merely fling her to the side, out of his way. No real damage would be done aside from maybe a scrape or a bruise. "No." Zaiaku would say simply and adamantly, resuming his meaningless wandering of the village, being as social as a rattlesnake in the ocean.

WC: 330
TWC: 802

OOC: Sorry for being so slow. School has been plowing me lately.

Midori looked up at the grey giant, who seemed to be studying her. His expression was blank. Disinterested. Bored. Yet, it seemed to her that perhaps his face was one that didn’t change? Was he made of stone? For, despite saying nothing, and despite not changing facial expression once, slowly and gently the man raised a hand. It was odd, perhaps was it his way of returning her salute, for he was made of stone, and thus struggled to move his arm in a way that allowed him to return it properly? Midori felt sorry for him, and simply smiled while looking up at the goliath, waiting to allow him to return the salute, with the patience of a hyper active hamster.

This belief was quickly disproven however, as the hand impacted the left side of Midori’s face with a sudden movement, sending the girl flying a surprising amount of distance, careening to the side before plopping in the sand once more. With a thump, she bounced once, before rolling, getting covered in sand once again, a bruise showing up on her face. Still, she focused enough to keep up the transformation, not wanting to give away her prosthetic arm as she got back up with a hop, dusting herself off, shaking the sand out of her hair, and then running back over to him with almost no hesitation, sprinting to catch up with him as she got in front of him again, repeating the same saluting motion before coughing, opening her mouth, and wiping some sand off of her tongue with a bleh.

“Blech! Not cool! Not cool! Isn’t it bad enough I fell in the sand earlier?!”

She huffed, crossing her arms and shaking her head, making sure to keep in front of him again, before speaking up, almost repeating herself. “Like I said, my name’s Midori, and I’m a lot stronger than I look! Seriously! Arm wrestle! Right arm on right arm! Tough sand shinobi on tough sand shinobi! I won’t leave until you agree, so, hah!” she grinned with pride, pointing to herself with her right arm, before patting at her hair once more, getting another bit of sand out. “So! What do you say? Yes? Or yes?” she gave a childish grin, before awaiting his answer.

381 + 983 = 1364

OOC: No worries~ Life comes first, so, take your time!

The grey giant would let out a disgruntled groan as the young kunoichi would get up and resume her position in front of him, dusting whatever sand that latched onto her off. Though she proceeded to salute Zaiaku once again, he couldn't help but let out a silent chuckle as the girl began coughing out sand. "Technically, this is harassment." Zaiaku said as he fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket along with a lighter. Damn, it's been so long... He thought as he placed one of them into his mouth and ignited it, hiding the cancer sticks and lighter back into his pocket. He would listen to Midori babble on about how she was stronger than she seemed, and that she won't leave him alone until he agreed. "If you were strong," He replied as his cold white eyes bore holes into the girl, "then you wouldn't have been so easily flung." Zaiaku would then go on and remove the cigarette from his mouth with his right hand, smoke cascading out like some sort of vaporous waterfall.

"Also, I know you did some sort of jutsu. Not that hard to tell it was you, since you're the only shinobi here besides me, and you were stupid enough to perform it while still within earshot. So....cancel it, and maybe I'll consider." He said, his voice still dull and his expression still tired-looking.  A few people had begun to stand around the two, mainly because of the fact that Midori was just easily flung and partially because there is a giant gray monster standing on the road while talking to some girl.

WC: 281
TWC: 1083

Midori huffed, listening to the guy reprimand her for being flung away so easily, and even more so, stating that technically, what she was doing was harassment. She shrugged at the comment, replying simply with one of her own as he got out the cigarette. “And what you did was technically assault.” His stare was blank, cigarette in mouth, and his response was kind of mean. He had a fair point, but, she wasn’t going to let him know that. Crossing her arms, she looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow, before stating in as serious a tone as she could pull off. "You caught me off guard.”

As he stated the next part, she looked around sheepishly, taking note of the other people around. Right. Those things make noise. Bugger. She rubbed the back of her neck with her right arm for a moment, laughing the awkwardness of her failed subterfuge off. Finally, she moved her left hand to her right shoulder, tweaking… Something seemingly invisible, before forming a single sign, the one for the transformation technique, and undoing the transformation, revealing to the giant guy, and those around, that… She was pretty much the same as before undoing it, with a little twist, her right arm an orangey wooden structure with various bits and bobs. The girl gave a sheepish grin, before waving the hand as if to emphasise its presence. “Tada!” she exclaimed with a grin, looking up at the grey giant who was probably just as uninterested as before.

“I’ll confess, I wanted to have a little fun. See, what I was hoping would happen, was, you’d say yes, because, I’d loosened the screws on my right arm a bit before transforming. That way, when we went to arm wrestle, my arm would have gone flying off! Like kaaaaaareeeeeeeeeeeen, crash! And it’d be super funny looking at the look on your face as you realise you removed someone’s arm! A harmless little joke!” she giggled at the idea, before shrugging. “It seemed more entertaining than sitting on a wall and looking at sand, but, if it was bothering you that much, I apologise. I promise I didn’t mean to be a bother! Just trying to make things… Lively in the village. You know? With the Kazekage missing and all, us Suna Shinobi have to stick together.” She frowned, before holding out her hand to the grey person in a friendly gesture, likely for a handshake. “So, as I said, my name’s Midori, and I’m from the Ningyou clan! Don’t mind the puppet arm. And you are?”

430 + 1364 = 1794

Zaiaku would ignore the comments about "assault" and "being caught off guard" and instead listened to what the girl had to say. She looked about with an embarrassed look on her face and rubbed her neck, knowing she has been caught. She'd seemingly grab something on her right shoulder and tweak it, earning a raised eyebrow from Zaiaku. Soon enough however, she undid her jutsu. Within seconds her right arm was no longer made of flesh and bone, rather, of intricate woodwork and mechanisms. Not unlike those found on a puppet. Before much could said (aside from the sudden gasp from the crowd around them), Midori would begin to explain her seemingly genius plan. It was...essentially a prank. A joke. Something that was mildly exciting. Throughout her explanation, Zaiaku's face converted into what could be described as mild irritation. It disappear in the form of a sigh, however, upon the mentioning of their kageless situation.

Before addressing to Midori (and responding to her extended hand) he would turn to the crowd around them with psuedo anger and begin to yell. "And you?! Fuck you lookin' at?" With his fangs bared and his unnatural eyes wide open, Zaiaku looking quite intimidating. Frightening even. The people around them froze, unsure of what to do and not wanting to provoke the beast. Upon seeing no attempt to leave, Zaiaku would yell again. "MOVE!" Taking a step toward the crowd and making an audible thud with his foot, the people quickly went about their business. Some running, some fast walking.

Pleased with his work, Zaiaku took another hit of the cigarette and exhaled some more smoke as he resumed his position in-front of the girl. "Zaiaku." He said simply before pointing at her prosthetic, albeit, lazily. "What happened? Was it a fight or is it somethin' your clan does?" He never paid attention to the various clans of Sunagakure, despite having lived here for so long. They simply never really concerned or held his interest long enough to learn about them. He has heard of the name "Ningyou" sparingly before, but never really knew what they did. He always assumed they had their ties with Kugutsu due to what their name means, however.

WC: 373
TWC: 1456

As people kept circling around and watching, it seemed the big grey guy had a somewhat quick to burst temper, or at the very least, a low amount that he could deal with. That was fair enough. She could personally cope with things to a limit, and then pretend to cope, and just freak out later, so, she could somewhat understand. His expression was one of pure anger, and his teeth were bared like a creature from a horror story, demanding a rhetoric about how they were wasting their time looking at a couple of odd people. Still, they just kept standing there, and as the man shouted again, and stamped his foot, they all seemed to flee. Midori meanwhile, just kind of stood there, and watched. She had a habit of thinking of tall people as the gentle giant type until being proven wrong – after all, wasn’t anger issues called little man syndrome?

Still, as he had another puff of cigar smoke, and stated his name, Midori was somewhat disappointed. He had no intent to shake her hand, instead just pointing to the hand, which Midori now moved back to her side in a rather casual standing position as he asked the question. Why did she have a puppet limb? Well, it was a fair enough question to ask – people tended to have limbs, not mechanisms. She thought for a moment. Just saying clan would be boring, right? Plus, she was proud of her arm, since she had made it herself. So, taking in a breath after waiting for the smoke to pass out of breathing range, she spoke up with ever more energy in her tone. “Oh! It’s a tradition from my clan. As a rite of passage into the world of the shinobi, we have our arms removed, or in my case, help remove it, and have the missing limb replaced with a puppet appendage that we make ourselves! I’m very proud of it, and I made it myself! I call it the dealer! I uhh, don’t ask why. It’s just a thing.”

She thought for a moment, looking the giant up and down for a moment. She didn’t want to have the conversation just end there! That would be too antisocial, and that was not what she intended to do. She had been acting up to meet a fellow member of the sand, a fellow wind shinobi, so that she could know her comrades, and maybe get a friend. So, thinking, she smiled suddenly, seemingly getting an idea. “So! How long have you been a shinobi? Oh, I know, personal question, so, you don’t need to answer! I’m just curious!” she grinned up at him, quite proud of her talkative nature at the moment.

458 + 1794 = 2252

The girl was quite energetic when it came time to explain her anomaly. So it was something that her clan just does. Figures. Zaiaku would think as he gazed at the wooden contraption. It was intricately made and even a fool could see expert craftsmanship was needed when making such a device. Nonetheless, the grey shinobi couldn't help but think that the entire thing was a bit...impractical. Cut off your arm just to replace it with a wooden one. Not that he could say anything, however. Despite this, he did not speak his thoughts and merely listened as Midori continued her banter about the prosthetic before going quiet. He would look down on her as she looked up at him. After a very short silence passed she started up again, this time asking just how long he's been a shinobi. While his normal response would've been for her to mind her own business, he figured he'd humor her. Why not? It's not like he had anywhere to be anyway.

And so, Zaiaku began raking his mind, remembering when he first joined the academy and how long it's been since then. "If you count the Academy," He began as he scratched his bald head. "I've been doin' this for five years." Now that he thought about it, it really wasn't such a long time compared to others. In-fact, within five years he went from Academy Student to Chunin without much hassle. Without even being part of a squad. Then again he was a hulking behemoth. In any case, Zaiaku shook the thoughts from his head and turned his attention back the young kunoichi in front of him.

Opening his hand to rub out the cigarette, his tough and thick skin not receiving any real damage, he began to speak. "And you? How long have you been doin' this?" He asked before flicking the now useless cigarette away and crossing his arms, his own tired and dull face countering Midori's more cheerful one.

WC: 342
TWC: 1798

Midori watched as suddenly, it seemed the big grey guy was willing to be more responsive to her attempts at conversation. How pleasant! He began speaking, stating that the following answer would include his academy years before scratching at his head. After he paused, the big guy spoke up and announced that it was about five years. A respectable amount of time, although this simply made her assume he was a lot younger than he looked, and perhaps even a genin? Or maybe just skilled, given that he did fling her across the area a mere moment ago…

As the same question was posed to her, Midori mimicked his expression of thought, not in a mocking manner, but in a way of which she appeared to be recollecting. She looked up to the left, humming quietly, before shrugging simply, and answering blatantly. “Probably about ten years. Maybe eleven. I’ve lost count. Although, like you, this is including the academy.” She nodded, before deciding to try keep up the conversation, eyes flickering to watch the cigarette get flicked away before moving to examine the tired expression of the grey giant. Perhaps he just wasn’t a social person, which was fair enough. So, she decided she’d let this be her last question for him, another that he could simply turn around and not answer, and allow her to get a better idea of who else was in the village.

Pausing to allow the man to take in the answer, Midori spoke up once more, stroking at her chin with her puppet appendage and pretending to have a goatee that wasn’t there. “So, mister Zaiaku, one more question before I get out of your metaphorical hair!” she continued without pause, not wanting to let the joke sink in, just in case it was a sensitive subject. “So, you don’t have to answer this, because I can understand if you wouldn’t want to, but, well, I’m curious, and I’ve told you what I specialise in. So! What do you specialise in? Whether or not you answer will be a-okay by me, and I’ll go do things like maybe work on a puppet after, so, be honest, or, dishonest, your choice!” she nodded, giving a thumbs up with her puppet arm.

376 + 2252 = 2628

Midori seemed to have a slightly harder time trying to remember just how long she's been doing this job. He watched her awkwardly, his eyes looking to the left and then the right. Unsure of what to do or say once the young genin began to seemingly hum out of poor memory, trying her best to remember. His eyes would quickly refocus on her, however, as she resumed speaking. She's been a shinobi for much longer when compared to Zaiaku. Twice as long to be exact. Possibly even more. Nonetheless Zaiaku's expression didn't really change at the answer. After all, he could imagine how long some of the more....devoted ninja have been protecting the village. In any case, he listened to what Midori had to say. Another question, seemingly the last one she had.

Rolling his eyes at her pleasantries and her thumbs up, Zaiaku simply unfolded his arms and stared blankly at her. His bare upper body was finely toned and muscular. His biceps were very apparent, as well as his abdominal area. With a raised eyebrow, Zaiaku simply replied. "Take a wild guess." In any case, Zaiaku figured he might as well ask something back. Cracking his fingers and stretching out, Zaiaku would quickly think of another topic to speak about.

"What rank are you?" Came his simple, low voice. Surely she must be a Special Jonin, if not, a full-fledged Jonin if she has been doing this for almost eleven years. Right?

WC: 251
TWC: 2,049

At the question that should have technically answered itself, Midori simply watched, humming for a moment, and trying to think through the implications of his answer. Of course! She was so stupid! She nodded, smiling with pride at figuring it out as she muttered beneath her breath. “He’s a sealer… Ohhh….”

As the large person responded with a question of his own, Midori couldn’t help but just grin. He had interest! Oh, the large grey person did care! She grinned, before doing a quick pirouette, and striking a pose by standing on one leg, her left leg behind her and curled up, and both arms out wide to her sides at a slight angle with her prosthetic being the raised one, before she dropped the posture in an instant, and said simply. “I am a genin!” she declared with pride, pointing to herself, before nodding, and gesturing to him. “So! What about you mister Zaiaku? Genin? Chuunin? Are you the Tsuchikage?” she said, clearly just stating titles off the top of her head, thinking nothing of the fact that she had been at the shinobi lifestyle twice as long as he. Midori was just weird like that, nothing anyone could do.

201 + 2628 = 2829

OOC: Sorry for the short post! Just, didn’t know what to reply with

Zaiaku heavily resisted the urge to scrunch up his face, his features only slightly twitching as a result of it. What was with this girl, dancing around like some clown just because he asked a question. The fact that she was a genin somehow made it....make sense. Oh course... He figured in his thoughts. You really wouldn't seen someone above the rank of D acting in such a way, as most tend to lose such tendencies after realizing that this profession isn't exactly the most friendly. Still, she's been a genin for possibly twice as long as him. And yet...here Zaiaku is, a rather higher-class chunin. After mulling it over, Zaiaku would simply conclude that the girl has simply been lazy with her duties.

Ignoring her prolonged banter Zaiaku would simply look at Midori as he answered her, his half-lidded eyes contrasting with her fully open and excited ones. "I'm a chunin." He was simple and to the point. After all...it was a rather basic question. Within any case the grey giant would find himself to be losing interest in this drabble of theirs. Boredom crept through his being as he let out a loud yawn, wanting to find some place to relax. Perhaps even nap.

"Well its been fun." Zaiaku said as he began to walk, passing Midori without looking at her. He said no goodbye nor did any sort of gesture as from hiding his large hands in his pockets. He was headed directly in the direction of the bazaar, though he was not moving fast at all. It wouldn't take much for Midori to (once again) run in-front of Zaiaku and block his path.

WC: 288
TWC: 2, 337

OOC: You have nearly double the words I have. Believe me when I say it's fine puppet person

She looked up at the blank expression of the person, humming and tilting her head as she waited for a reply to her question. After a pause, and a rather bored look, he replied that he was a chuunin. Woah! That explains the whole, getting sent flying. Was the grey skin a jutsu, or, just who he was? Eh, she didn’t really care, it was just curiosity that arose from the possibilities the skill of a chuunin could mean. The goal of chuunin was a simple ladder in her plan and aspiration, and she was sure she’d reach that rank one day! She just had to catch up from her bad health caused delay.

Her rather disinterested talking partner yawned then, his boredom and fatigue becoming apparent in an instant, even to Midori. She watched as he began walking away, stating simply, with no gesture, at least not that she could see, that it had been fun. No goodbye. No see you later. No gesture in the slightest. She felt somewhat disappointed, but, if Midori had to guess, that was not a personal thing. Just who he was. Still, he said it had been fun, and whether that was as a pleasantry, or a realistic thing, Midori took it in stride. As he walked away, whether or not he’d face her, Midori would wave happily, calling behind him. “Hey! Next time we meet, be it in a few months, or a few years, or a few days, I’ll be stronger, and cooler! And maybe then we can arm wrestle!” she declared, grinning, before nodding, and turning to go do what Midori does; absolutely nothing.

Midori’s mind wandered to how the day had gone, and what she could work out about the guy. Her silly sense of humour aside, it was clear the guy was strong. He flicked her aside without any qualms. Not to mention, as a combination of his size and skin most likely, he seemed… Impatient with surrounding opinions from strangers. Understandably so however. When Midori approached, it was likely that he misunderstood her for someone that wished to attack or mock him, given his hostile behaviour. She wasn’t too good at first impressions, but Midori now knew to be a bit more patient when interacting with this person. She didn’t want to be disrespectful, and if she had to guess from the crowd that gathered, he only began talking to her because, like him, she wasn’t a socially normal person. She hummed… Oh well. On with missions!

420 + 2829 = 3249

[EXIT]

(OOC: This was fun, and hope you had fun with it too~ If you ever want to do another thread, let me know!)

Training:

No response came from the giant as he slowly disappeared into the ongoing swarm of people that traversed the bazaar. He wandered aimlessly, ignoring the stares he garnered as he passed shop after shop. Market stall after market stall. Why do I always attract the weirdos? He thought to himself, though frowning upon realizing that he certainly wasn't one to discuss strangeness and normality. Sighing at the thought, Zaiaku figured that the girl wasn't so bad. See seemed nice enough and didn't make a big deal with his appearance.

Then again, she seemed rather...childish. That everything is all good and wonderful. Has she even gotten her first kill yet? While he did genuinely think about Midori, he eventually kicked her out of his mind. What were the chances of them meeting again anyway? Its not like they normally see each other on the streets or live close-by. With a simple "Hmph" he proceeded onward, heading deeper into the bazaar and becoming lost in his own boredom.  

Exit
WC: 171
TWC: 2508