Flicking back the last latch, Kin twisted his left leg at the thigh, removing it from it's socket with a loud crack and a deliciously sharp stabbing pain throughout his entire body. Dropping the leg onto the bench with a thud, Kin grabbed a small socket wrench and began to undo the kneecap plating. One of the actuators was seizing, and he had to clean and oil it to ensure it didn't lock up in battle. Pulling the shaft out, Kin slide down a long wire brush, which he gave a quick spin to, picking up any grit or grime that may have worked it's way in. He did this several times before cleaning the piston of the actuator, and giving it a good oiling. Sliding his knee back together, Kin tightened the bolts and stretched it back and forth a few times, ensuring it moved fluidly. The jam seemed to be gone, and as such all that was left to do was reattac- KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! "Excuse me, Kin Sarif? I've been sent by the administrative office, we have a mission for you, and we want you to address it right away." oh for fuck sakes... swinging his leg over his shoulder, Kin rose from his stool and began to hop slowly towards his door, bracing himself on the walls as he made his way to it before flicking it open with his left hand. He let the woman take a moment to see the situation he was in before replying with unmasked scorn. "The fuck is so important that it can't wait til i'm finished fixing my knee?" "There's been a wave of graffiti attacks on major sites for weeks, a new one has been found, freshly painted. He tends to paint several across town in bursts, so they want you to find him and detain him." oh for the love of god... a kid pulling pranks... really...

Standing his leg up on the floor briefly, Kin hopped on top of it, lining his socket up with the top of the leg. He flicked each of the compression clamps into place before giving it one final twist, and as he did so, he slammed his teeth together to keep from screaming. The pain of reconnection was something he never could get used to. Detachment hurt, but reattachment was agony. Flexing his leg briefly, Kin stepped out the door and began heading towards the town. Apparently, this time a monument to the fallen had been tagged. It was in the eastern quadrant, and presuming it wasn't a high ranked shinobi, he wouldn't go far to do his next mark, meaning he'd probably hit the nearby shinto shrine next. Kin was going to cut the little fucker off and give him the beating he deserved.

Arriving at the Shinto shrine, sure enough, he saw a kid, roughly 12 years old, with a bucket of orange paint and a brush, furiously painting spiral patterns on the walls of the shrine. He hadn't noticed Kin yet, and that was exactly what he'd exploit. Opening his forearm's senbon launcher, Kin wrapped chakra strings around five of them, and lined up the shot against the boy. Breathing deep, Kin released the trigger, firing the senbon straight at the boy. The barrage dug into the back of the boy's thighs, with two of the chakra stringed senbon landing in his left thigh. The boy screamed and dropped his bucket, spilling paint everywhere. He turned to run, but Kin simply pulled firmly on the two senbon. The boy's left leg pulled back sharply and he fell down face first, but the senbon flew out as he did so. They weren't deeply lodged enough to stay stuck, it seemed. Still, it had created a beautiful opening, and Kin was on him like a wolf. Before the boy could rise to his feet, Kin lodged a firm punch into the back of his head, smashing his skull into the pavement. "You little fucker. They dragged me out of my home and away from my lab to deal with your bullshit?!" sinking another firm punch into the boy's face, his nose shattered, and Kin dropped him at his feet before wrapping him in strings. He dragged the boy along the ground like a sack of potatoes towards the administration office, and as he hauled him in, the clerk gasped in shock. "Next time you send me out in the middle of my lab work to get a fucking graffiti artist i'm cutting off his hands." he said coldly before severing the strings, leaving the twitching, blood covered boy bleeding on the administration hall floor. He was their problem now.

Word Count: 798

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