Island Hopping [Travel] [Ashin]

Age : 35 Posts : 1113

[Travelling to Mizu no Kuni]

Barely a sound followed Uriko's emergence from the pool. The water's tension broke as she surfaced in silence, droplets of clear liquid cascading down her face and neckline. Her slender, unclothed figure stepped gracefully from the heated water onto the dew-laden turf. There was a time when the kunoichi enjoyed the gentle tickling of grass blades underfoot. As a child, she would have stopped and giggled, brushing her feet from side to side as the plants bent beneath them. Now, with her scarred and hardened skin, she was cut off from such delicate sensations. Had her family and friends lived to see it, their hearts might just have broken. The young, quiet girl from a happy home had grown so distant, so cold and cruel that her former self was all but dead. Not even stopping to reminisce, Uriko walked calmly over to the base of a nearby tree and pulled away the loam, revealing her secreted clothes and items. A few moments later and the woman once again donned the lightweight version of her usual garb. The armor had been stored away, the head scarf discarded and the kunoichi began to tie her hair in a loose ponytail even as she walked. In a country such as this, there was no need for drastic disguises.

As she reached Yugagakure, Uriko once again fell right in with the regular crowds. Mostly tourists, they were here to visit the springs, to see the country - but not to see the people. It suited the female nukenin rather well and with her 'new' look, not one person took a second glance. Passing a slightly more dilapidated building than the others on the main thoroughfare, the kunoichi slipped quietly into the alleyway just beyond. After a few twists and turns, she hurried down a trio of steps, leading into the aged structure she had passed before, and ducked inside. The empty room that greeted her felt thick with dust, Uriko coughing slightly as she cleared a few motes that entered her mouth. The noise attracted the sole resident - a seedy-looking man, with unkempt, black hair and thick stubble. Shuffling across the wooden floor to greet his guest, the man glanced to a nearby door, then back to Uriko with a quizzical expression. The woman nodded and gestured for him to lead on. As the man pulled the door wide open, a new noise broke the silence. Fluttering feathers. It was masked only by a sharp creak as the door eased shut behind the pair. All manner of birds sat in holding pens, each with miniature scrolls tied to their legs. The kunoichi inspected the only two ravens here and was quick to identify the one with a message labelled 'the forest endures'. Relieving the bird of its cargo, Uriko turned heel and made a swift exit.

The man had shown her from the premises, somewhat eager to see her leave after picking up the message. Perhaps he feared being incriminated if caught, or maybe it had taken him that long to realise who Uriko actually was. It mattered little, as they hadn't been interrupted and the woman had her scroll. Truth be told, she had not been expecting contact. The quick visit to one of many criminal 'drop offs' had been more in the name of good practise than actual anticipation. Unfurling the parchment, Uriko stood in the darkened alley and squinted at the markings on the page. 'I hear the water is great this time of year.' Cryptic to some, but perfectly clear to the kunoichi. Only one person knew how to address a message so that she would read it and the content spoke for itself. Uriko's amber eyes flitted from side to side briefly, checking for unwanted observers, before she crunched the paper in her palm and slowly pushed it down her gullet. Such a tiny piece would cause her no harm. With a new direction and plenty to consider, the female nukenin strode confidently out into the human traffic and followed the flow until she reached the village outskirts. Peeling away from the smaller groups leaving this quaint town, Uriko picked up the pace as she crossed the surrounding hillocks.

Travelling from one end of Yu no Kuni to another would be relatively simple; albeit a little drawn out. The rolling hills made staying adjacent to the border but unseen by the guards an easy enough task and Uriko was inwardly relieved not to have to waste time with them once more. Delving into her deep pockets of stamina, the woman pressed on at quite a pace, barely slowing as she went from downhill gradients to steep uphills and back again. Purpose had always driven the determined kunoichi, who had an unnerving ability to focus on a distant goal and constantly stride towards it without loss of intent or direction. It was something that made her a uniquely dangerous enemy. Her dogged pursuit of Hajiro - many, many years before - evidence enough of that. And he had paid a high price for crossing the vengeful woman. After about an hour or so, having made significant progress, Uriko was forced to slow to a halt and delve into her medical pouch. She had not eaten anything for hours and the intense exercise would cause even her muscles to seize up if she continued in this vein. A small, chalky pill appeared a moment later, held firm between the woman's thumb and index finger. Tilting her head back slightly, she allowed the sphere to fall into her mouth. Crushing the pill between her teeth, Uriko swallowed almost instantly and began moving yet again.

Dawn broke over Yu no Kuni in a golden splendour, marking another day in this run of continued sunhsine the continent was enjoying. The kunoichi was already up, dismantling the last of her meagre campsite before setting her sights on the horizon. A shinobi with eyes like the Hyuuga might have been able to see the shore, but even without a confirmation, Uriko knew her first destination was close. Setting off at a canter today, she was proved right before midday rolled around. The smell of brine hit the woman's nostrils as she approached, followed by the soft whining of wooden vessels rocking on the tide. The wily kunoichi had travelled by ship many times before, employing a variety of tactics to gain passage. Today, she would be paying her way. "You're too honest, Uriko. She muttered to herself. No sooner had she said it than a wry smile crossed her lips. Hardly. She thought, silently. With a little less money than she would have liked, the woman was forced to buy onto the boat which stopped at every island en route to Mizu no Kuni. Although, such vessels would always welcome passengers. It was usually the competition that were offered coin for a ride.

A burly man - bald, wearing thick but tired clothing - took Uriko's money and followed her aboard the small trading boat. Two other sailors watched her with cautious eyes, wondering what such an unusual woman would want from them. When their partner explained everything, they seemed placated but still wary. The kunoichi, for her part, would not be taking her beady eyes off of her escorts. If they came to realise who she really was, it would definitely spell trouble. For now, the woman leaned against the wooden railings, watching the ropes being pulled away and feeling the ship lurch slightly as she broke free. In the distance, Uriko spied the first of many stopping points. Sighing at the unwelcome but necessary delay, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was amiss. She had taken a few liberties with her journey, sure, but until now she had been given no cause for complete caution. Her fingers drifted down to the item pouch at her hip, gently running themselves over the handle of a kunai. Something felt wrong.

Age : 30 Posts : 356

[Traveling To Mizu no Kuni]

"Che..." The sound reverberated softly off the confines of his helm, accompanying a stream of steam as it escaped the metallic shell. Vandheer, as per the usual, stood alone, a venerable tower weathering the strongest of storms amongst the vast emptiness of the ocean. Even as the sea swayed to and fro he remained as stone, rooted to the planks of the deck as he were integrated with the ship itself. Irritation graced his form, tension visible in the tautness of his heavily muscled frame as well as his aggressive stance. Not fifteen minutes before a small man, docile in nature and sweating bullets, approached the behemoth man with tidings of an unpleasant nature. A storm had brewed up, seemingly out of nowhere, directly within the original route. Under other circumstances, Vandheer would usually attempt to... Persuade the captain to make another choice. Based on what the minute man had mentioned, however, he decided to allow the mans decision pass without any forward aggression on his part.

Force One hurricanes are something not even A-rank shinobi take lightly. The Haretsu shifted his stance ever so slightly, feeling the worn timber writhe in protest under the stress of his weight. If he was completely honest, the cyclone didn't faze him. Wind was something he was intimately connected to, and he understood enough about the inner workings of the element to respect its power. Nay, something unrelated continued nagging at him, like so many gnats on a humid Kumo night. An appendage unfurled, removing itself from its crossed position alongside its brother before raising upwards. Now in within the boundaries of his visual field, Vandheer began his investigation, staring intently at his right hand with startlingly fierce concentration. Those born unto the clan of the Haretsu possess a special gift unique to them and their Kin; Functioning mouths on the palms of their hands. Vandheer was no exception, and had won many battles with his unique appendages. Said orifices were writhing about, completely beyond his control and in a seemingly endless amount of pain. This troubled the large Jounin, and it showed in his demeanor.

Grasping the rail of the ship, the crew could only look on in abstract horror as the wooden beam splintered like the brittle shell of an egg under the mans impressive might. A disgruntled curse swept through the area as if on gilded wings, giving way to seas alluring aquatic soundtrack. Passengers now fully terrified of the visibly tensed shinobi, the ride continued on in hushed silence, many fearing the slightest noise might set of the inhuman killing machine riding the bow of the ship. Minutes dragged by, in which Vandheer's mood improved none, and actually began receding into a consistent irritation. This continued until, finally, they had docked. As his eyes scanned the surrounding area, drinking in every inkling of detail the limited view of the deck granted them. A small port dominated the expanse of his vision, hills far to the south gleaning into the small percentage of visualization his peripherals could manage. It seemed that he had arrived, based on the sign hanging just above his head, within the borders of Yu no Kuni, a small island located just a few miles from the misty isles of Mizu no Kuni.

Only singular vessel floated within the confines of the small docking area, it's medium build supporting his budding thesis as to it's occupation as a merchant vessel. A presence loomed behind him, neck rotating until he was facing his would-be attacker. Dressed as he was it came as no surprise when a minute sailor, scared half to death and completely devoid of color, jerked his hand back in a panicked frenzy. With no small amount of stuttering, he actually managed out a sentence, " T-T-T-The Ot-ther ship will t-t-take you wherever you n-need to g-g-g-o." And then, as quickly as he came, he fled, ramping up the small wooden platform and onto his ship without regard to his shipmates. "Che" Descending from the wooden plank and onto land set him on his way, his next destination only a short distance away. Not fifteen feet from the entrance to the secondary ship, and consequently a hefty boarding fee, something stopped him dead. Ever since he had arrived at the border, his palms had begun undergoing what could only be described as an odd mutation, or perhaps even a degeneration. And now, with his feet seated firmly upon the dry wooden timbers, they had sealed shut completely.

The Haretsu tensed considerably. The whole ordeal had set him on edge, and now, just as he was out in the open and completely exposed, his heritage had evaporated into thin air. Or so it seemed. Vandheer had never heard of such a technique but that didn't mean that it didn't exist somewhere. The Elemental Countries were a massive, diverse mixing pot of techniques, clans, and traditions. Add to that his bingo book listing, and suddenly his suspicions seemed a little less insane. Left hand now glued to the hilt of Shinjin Akumu, the Jounin stalked towards his target; Namely a large portly man accepting change from a tall, lanky man just adjacent. Dismissing him as a simple civilian he continued onward, crimson orbs intently focused upon the surrounding area as they scanned for threats, potential and otherwise.

He arrived without incident, body language relaxing ever so slightly as he payed and boarded the shipping vessel. It was there spied something completely out of place. There, just beyond a two man group of sailors, leaned a women. Her appearance was ordinary, from her dress to her facial construct. And yet once again his palms were acting up, tingling with fervent intensity as he neared the women just ahead. Pace measured, he continued onward, stopping only once he was located at a railing just adjacent. Stopping to rest with a subtle 'clink' of his weapons, he announced his presence, hoping to gauge her reaction at the absolute minimum," You wear it as a cloak..." A pause ensued, Vandheer turning to meet her gaze even as his hand rested lightly on the handle of his sword," Death." His voice was calm, smooth even, lacking an distinct factors that might tell of his suppressed aggression. Still... It was a massive game he was playing, with the stakes quite high. Even if his conscious mind lacked the information to finalize it into a fact, he instinctively knew something was quite wrong about this person. Completely wrong. And so he remained, awaiting a response, be it physical or verbal, body tensed yet outwardly relaxed. He was, for lack of a better word, ready.

Age : 35 Posts : 1113

For some time now, the sailors had been intermittently yelling instructions to one another, clamouring to be heard above the keeling gulls, creaking wood and groaning rope. Always preferring peace and solitude over noise and companionship, Uriko sighed with relief when one crewman cupped his hands around his mouth and roared; "Weigh anchor!" It was better late than never. The waves were beginning to rise higher against the ship's hull, the occasional spray of brine bursting against the gunwale. Looking out at the horizon, the kunoichi wrinkled her nose at the sight of thick, dark clouds. The ocean could be tempestuous at the best of times, but if that storm caught up with their vessel before it made landfall... Uriko rolled her eyes and chided herself for such foolish thoughts. She had forgotten that, as unrefined as these sailors were, they at least knew how to do their jobs. If the weather was going to be an issue, the crew would certainly not risk their cargo. The woman soon forgot about her doubts, though. She was given a much greater cause for concern when something quite unexpected happened.

The energy within her gave a little shudder of excitement. Outwardly, the female nukenin had reacted quite differently. Eager to remain conspicuous, she took as much as she could in from her peripheral vision. Keen though her eyes were, they offered little elucidation. The kunoichi could hear conversation taking place and from what little she picked up, it sounded as though the crew were going to accommodate just one more passenger. Business concluded, the two parted ways and the newcomer stepped on board. With her suppressive ability active, Uriko made a tentative guess that her fellow traveller was a shinobi too. Few others were in the possession of bloodline limits; though it wasn't entirely implausible. The woman's eyes narrowed as she concentrated. Heavy footsteps. But not careless. Armor? She wondered, keeping her train of thought strictly unspoken. Likely male, quite tall. The woman continued, tailing off when she noticed the soft drumming of boot on plank was growing nearer. Quite abruptly, a large figure settled against the railing beside her and announced his arrival with a gentle 'clink' of metal. Uriko's gaze fell momentarily on the sheathed weaponry, assessing the threat. She remained silent.

The newcomer was not of a similar mind however. Attuning his gaze to the kunoichi's hardened features, he spoke in even undertones. "You wear it as a cloak..." He murmured, turning his body just enough so his hand could come to rest on the hilt of a sheathed blade. Uriko's hand twitched, one finger curling over and caressing the steel beneath her gloved wrist. "Death." The man added, patiently waiting for a response and a chance to gauge the woman's intent. "I didn't realise." She muttered, putting on a false smile as she swivelled around to face the 'intruder'. "I just thought it looked nice." She finished, running her fingers along the fabric she wore over her torso. The kunoichi was, of course, being deliberately evasive. Now that she could see all of him, Uriko took a little satisfaction in confirming her earlier expectations. Tall and armored, but not heavily-built. He was physically strong, sure, but in stature he was not mountainous. Then there was the helmet. Strange as it was to wear one without the matching suit, the female nukenin was more bothered by the absent forehead protector. She could only assume that it was masked by the helm. Not the the man's allegiance changed much - most of the villages wanted her dead.

There was a terse silence between the pair. Neither wanted to be the next to speak and both were continuing their subtle analysis of the other. Indeed, Uriko had already considered a good many ways to eliminate the stranger where he stood. Despite the helment, she felt certain a blade could slide underneath the neckline and up into his skull. With his build and armor, she would have expected to beat him for speed too. At this, the woman reminded herself not to underestimate others. After all, while it would have been easy enough to roll a corpse overboard unnoticed, the kunoichi doubted whether putting him in such as state would be as simple. For his part, the newcomer was distinctly apprehensive. He did a good job of hiding it, but with years of medical experience behind her, the woman knew how to uncover the deception. His stance gave it away, the legs poised for abrupt movement. Perhaps he knows? Uriko questioned. It seemed unlikely. Very few would knowingly approach the volatile nukenin, much less strike up a conversation. Yet here he was, ready to engage her at a moment's notice. If he was not informed, then he had something else on his side. Sharp instincts. The woman mused.

Just then, the boat lurched forward as the ropes lashing it to the dock fell free. Uriko's hand gripped the railing tight, steadying herself against the rocking vessel. Water crashed against the wooden frame, releasing thousands of tiny droplets into the air. They floated down onto the deck like some ethereal, white hand, before being blown away into nothingness by the breeze. After a minute or so, the crew had the ship back under control and set on the right course. They set about unfurling the sails and lashing them in place, whilst two of their colleagues manned the keel. Oblivious to all of this, the two shinobi returned to their own business. Releasing her grip on the wooden railing, Uriko wrinkled her nose in distaste as she noticed a few splinters came away in her palm. Bringing the rough skin to her mouth, she bit into the largest of them and spat it away into the ocean. The embedded shards of wood were causing no pain, but the kunoichi did not want them interfering with her handling. She kept one beady eye on the stranger as she continued to pluck out the shrapnel with her teeth.

Once she was satisfied with the state of her palm, Uriko sniffed and turned her full attention back to her current companion. "I hope this isn't a social call." She muttered, finally putting and end to the uncomfortable silence. "Who are you and what is it that you want?" She finished, unable to hide the irritation in her voice. The female nukenin rarely enjoyed the company of others and her mood seemed no better today. At the very least, it could be said that her manner was direct and to-the-point. While some saw this tact as rather hostile, Uriko herself felt it was the most efficient way for humans to interact. There was no time wasted on inane chatter, no way to be emotionally drawn in and generally speaking, everyone got what they'd come for. Almost as soon as she'd issued her abrupt question however, the kunoichi realised that in this instance, her approach was quite pointless. The pair were on the same vessel, bound for the same destination and there was no means of escaping the wooden confines around them. Sighing inwardly as she came to terms with her predicament, Uriko could only hope that the stranger would turn out to be more entertaining that she expected.

Technique(s) Used:

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Age : 35 Posts : 1113

OOC: Could someone please archive this? Ashin dropped out from the topic and thus Uriko no longer needs to travel to Mizu no Kuni. I would like to reclaim some of the text for a different travel topic (see here). I hope no one minds. Many thanks, staffies.