1 The Maw of Arawn [Open - NK] Fri Jun 02, 2017 4:04 pm
Santaku Nariko
D-rank
This was surreal. The mountainous maw had sharp teeth made of rock, it's misty breath lingering around and shrouding the extensions protruding its mouth. She couldn't really see a tongue, but the mouth was certainly riddles with poxes that had the odd shape of houses. It seemed she had reached... the underworld.
As Nariko eyed the swirling mist-breath, she heard the barking of a dog and soon saw its figure being formed by the mist. It real colour seemingly remained hidden under a shroud of white, its gleaming red eyes glaring at her for what seemed an eternity before suddenly vanishing as if it had never been there. Nariko smiled wryly as she realised this wasn't Konoha, nor reality. Whatever she had eaten to fill her stomach with was playing tricks on her, and she was liking it.
As if accepting this realisation was what the mist was expecting from her, it seemingly opened up to allow her entrance. Nariko realised only later that her feet hadn't stopped marching in all that time, but that thought was cloaked together with her body as the swirling mist closed behind her. The quietude with which the entrance to the otherworld had announced itself, had now made room for the daily bustle of the city itself. Kumogakure. What an odd place.
Nariko still didn't have the slightest of ideas where she was, but the sight of shops which seemingly danced with the auras of street life folks, made her feel a little at ease. Shops meant she could get new clothes. Finally. After that, she'd go take a bath and find herself a proper inn to sleep in. And something acceptable to eat, since the forest didn't exactly provide anything decent compared to the refined culinary tastes she had developed due to her lineage.
A full fifteen minutes passed by as Nariko just stood there in the middle of the road, torn clothes attracting frowns of passing people or swears from those who somehow expected her to move out of the way. To Nariko, however, it felt like only a few seconds had passed, in which she had plotted a most devious master plan on how to achieve ultimate luxury for the rest of the day.
That said, her plan had to be set into motion. Sluggishly moving into action, Nariko walked towards a clothing shop that had quite a good looking window displaying various outfits. Since she had used most of her clothes to swap from persona to persona, she would have to get a bunch of new clothes. To think she'd have to spend what seemed the be a whole afternoon in the shop. Trying out clothes. Enjoying a day like a simple girl in front of a window. It sounded to unrealistic to be true, but here she was, having no servants to take her body measures, no father to command the shopkeeper what textiles to get, which colours to pick, how she had to be dressed up... The only good thing was that her father didn't dress up like a 10 year old girl because he thought she was too cute and precious to be walking around like a full grown woman.
Nariko entered the shop, taking in the swirling and swaying of coloured textile, mixed with the moving pastel pink that seemingly formed a few people. She frowned slightly, blinked and focused her mind as good as possible. The shop keeper already walked up to her, seeing the torn clothes, a worried face upon the puffy woman's face. She was the sort that could easily be labelled a 'mother hen' - well-fed, strong and with one heart full of care, and another half filled with a mystical strength to brow down anyone foolish enough to defy her authority within the household, including high ranked shinobi who couldn't behave.
Showering Nariko with empathic words, motherly care and some honeyed words of the saleswoman she actually was, she urged Nariko straight to the dressing room. The girl could barely place a word, one one hand her tongue partially numbed by the mushroom, and on the other hand the woman barely leaving the 'child' she was a single moment to protest. Nariko felt her body being shoved inside an empty dressing room with a bubbly, "stay there, I'll be right back" and stared at the miserable image that formed her reflection.
She did look horrible.
Hair astray, not having been combed in days, face dirtied by mud, her clothes torn here and there from thorns or eager branches... Nariko rubbed her free arm in slight discomfort. Even if she liked the sensation of fear, the thrill of being lost, the discomfort of feeling actual hunger and the disgust of having to force herself to eat whatever gross meat just to survive, she did have some pride in her. A pride which disapproved of her current shoddy looks.
Nariko snapped somewhat out of her surrealistic world, urged by her pride to do something about the beggar she become. She peeked outside the dressing room, and saw the sales-mother already come back with an armful of clothes. The woman pressed it into her arms, comforting her 'this would fit her just right since she had an eye for sizes like hers. The bundle in her hands seemed to hold a quality hairbrush, a simple black thin sweater, a dark blue leather skirt with fitting belt, stockings and a jeans jacket with long sleeves and a pair of intimates. Since she was recommended to take her time dressing up, Nariko did just that. Somehow, seeing the sorry state she found herself in had been enough to sober her up at least a little bit.
Nariko slipped into the new clothes, the smell of 'new' briefly overwhelming her senses. They sat surprisingly comfortable. The woman did know how to measure people on sight. Sitting down on the stool in the dress room, another quarter passed as she brushed her hair to silken smoothness. Dirt and smell aside, she looked a little more humane now. [x]
Leaving the dressing room with a bundle of old clothes, the mother hen cooed happily when she saw Nariko wearing the clothes she had picked, hair brushed and not looking like a street dog anymore. Of course, all kindness came with a cost and despite mother hen's kindness, there was not a single ryo that would be removed from the price of her clothes - the hair brush was free, mind you. Still, Nariko paid the woman in proper and left the shop.
It was a matter of finding a bath and an inn now.
wc 1119
As Nariko eyed the swirling mist-breath, she heard the barking of a dog and soon saw its figure being formed by the mist. It real colour seemingly remained hidden under a shroud of white, its gleaming red eyes glaring at her for what seemed an eternity before suddenly vanishing as if it had never been there. Nariko smiled wryly as she realised this wasn't Konoha, nor reality. Whatever she had eaten to fill her stomach with was playing tricks on her, and she was liking it.
As if accepting this realisation was what the mist was expecting from her, it seemingly opened up to allow her entrance. Nariko realised only later that her feet hadn't stopped marching in all that time, but that thought was cloaked together with her body as the swirling mist closed behind her. The quietude with which the entrance to the otherworld had announced itself, had now made room for the daily bustle of the city itself. Kumogakure. What an odd place.
Nariko still didn't have the slightest of ideas where she was, but the sight of shops which seemingly danced with the auras of street life folks, made her feel a little at ease. Shops meant she could get new clothes. Finally. After that, she'd go take a bath and find herself a proper inn to sleep in. And something acceptable to eat, since the forest didn't exactly provide anything decent compared to the refined culinary tastes she had developed due to her lineage.
A full fifteen minutes passed by as Nariko just stood there in the middle of the road, torn clothes attracting frowns of passing people or swears from those who somehow expected her to move out of the way. To Nariko, however, it felt like only a few seconds had passed, in which she had plotted a most devious master plan on how to achieve ultimate luxury for the rest of the day.
That said, her plan had to be set into motion. Sluggishly moving into action, Nariko walked towards a clothing shop that had quite a good looking window displaying various outfits. Since she had used most of her clothes to swap from persona to persona, she would have to get a bunch of new clothes. To think she'd have to spend what seemed the be a whole afternoon in the shop. Trying out clothes. Enjoying a day like a simple girl in front of a window. It sounded to unrealistic to be true, but here she was, having no servants to take her body measures, no father to command the shopkeeper what textiles to get, which colours to pick, how she had to be dressed up... The only good thing was that her father didn't dress up like a 10 year old girl because he thought she was too cute and precious to be walking around like a full grown woman.
Nariko entered the shop, taking in the swirling and swaying of coloured textile, mixed with the moving pastel pink that seemingly formed a few people. She frowned slightly, blinked and focused her mind as good as possible. The shop keeper already walked up to her, seeing the torn clothes, a worried face upon the puffy woman's face. She was the sort that could easily be labelled a 'mother hen' - well-fed, strong and with one heart full of care, and another half filled with a mystical strength to brow down anyone foolish enough to defy her authority within the household, including high ranked shinobi who couldn't behave.
Showering Nariko with empathic words, motherly care and some honeyed words of the saleswoman she actually was, she urged Nariko straight to the dressing room. The girl could barely place a word, one one hand her tongue partially numbed by the mushroom, and on the other hand the woman barely leaving the 'child' she was a single moment to protest. Nariko felt her body being shoved inside an empty dressing room with a bubbly, "stay there, I'll be right back" and stared at the miserable image that formed her reflection.
She did look horrible.
Hair astray, not having been combed in days, face dirtied by mud, her clothes torn here and there from thorns or eager branches... Nariko rubbed her free arm in slight discomfort. Even if she liked the sensation of fear, the thrill of being lost, the discomfort of feeling actual hunger and the disgust of having to force herself to eat whatever gross meat just to survive, she did have some pride in her. A pride which disapproved of her current shoddy looks.
Nariko snapped somewhat out of her surrealistic world, urged by her pride to do something about the beggar she become. She peeked outside the dressing room, and saw the sales-mother already come back with an armful of clothes. The woman pressed it into her arms, comforting her 'this would fit her just right since she had an eye for sizes like hers. The bundle in her hands seemed to hold a quality hairbrush, a simple black thin sweater, a dark blue leather skirt with fitting belt, stockings and a jeans jacket with long sleeves and a pair of intimates. Since she was recommended to take her time dressing up, Nariko did just that. Somehow, seeing the sorry state she found herself in had been enough to sober her up at least a little bit.
Nariko slipped into the new clothes, the smell of 'new' briefly overwhelming her senses. They sat surprisingly comfortable. The woman did know how to measure people on sight. Sitting down on the stool in the dress room, another quarter passed as she brushed her hair to silken smoothness. Dirt and smell aside, she looked a little more humane now. [x]
Leaving the dressing room with a bundle of old clothes, the mother hen cooed happily when she saw Nariko wearing the clothes she had picked, hair brushed and not looking like a street dog anymore. Of course, all kindness came with a cost and despite mother hen's kindness, there was not a single ryo that would be removed from the price of her clothes - the hair brush was free, mind you. Still, Nariko paid the woman in proper and left the shop.
It was a matter of finding a bath and an inn now.
wc 1119