Post by Yun Liànshi on Jan 22, 2014 2:23:22 GMT -5
[Story]  Tsuchi no Kuni was known for their harsh winters, and though the worst had finally passed, the lingering chill still clung to the mountainous regions, sweeping frosty winds and bitting gales about the landscape. Still, though curious enchants birthed from vanity and chakra, flowers long out of season continued to thrive, adding a subtle touch of tantalizing colors in a land densely blanketed with grey and snow. The heaven like prosperity proved surreal, ethereal even, as they cascaded an image of unnatural growth barely tempered by the frost which clung to their small petals. Awaikage Satoru regarded the display with veiled indifference. Behind the mask, which covered the lower of his face in a shroud of threatening red, he appeared as fierce as he was stoic. Though he was a man of polished tastes, and the bloom of forced extravagance, while unnatural, did not go unnoticed without silent approval. The courtyard of the imperial grounds, a place set exclusively for the highest bureaucrats of the nation, was lined up with guards. Shinobi and Royal escort alike, with the visitation of the Daimyo and Lady of the country, Iwagakure had turned into a display of order, wealth, and security, efficiently strung about so that as far all the eye could see was a well oiled machine of dogma and discipline. He moved passed the line up of courtly defenders down the walk way of the well kept gardens, barely ignoring the stares of distrust and scrutiny from each perpetual statue. Inside the domain of the elite, as the burly guards parted at Satoru's approach, handmaidens moved about like birds to a branch, shuffling close to the Lady of Tsuchi no Kuni who had her back towards him, looking out upon the frost touched ensemble of flora. Finding her alone was uncommon, less so without the assembly of nobles and courtier alike. Few things the ruling caste of the nation could do without an audience, even if it entailed with meeting with shinobi forces. Today, however, was particularly exclusive in comparison. He stopped a safe distance as the handmaidens noted of his arrival, adopting mixed expressions of his contradictory appearance. Silken black hair moved like a banner in the wind, beckoning romantic sighs despite the vicious mask of a demon's snarl that embraced the lower half of his face. Arms folded behind his back, he awaited stoically, taking the brief moment to give the lands of their rendezvous an appreciative once over. The Lady, Yun Liànshi turned to him, presenting a soft, courtly smile and a nod that dismissed her many attendees. They all bowed like grass to the wind and departed in a wash of silks and regal colors, giving Satoru glances he pretended not to notice. “Lord Awaikage,” she began her voice as satin as the black waves that rolled down her shoulders, “I am delighted to see you.” Bowing gently, a fist to his chest. “My Lady, it is an honor and pleasure to be in your presence. Our clan remains as loyal and vigilant to your name and the leader of our country. May you continue to lead us into this era of unmatched prosperity.” Satoru kept himself bent at the waist, a humble gaze directed at where her feet barely appeared from beneath the weight of furs and fine robes. Though Satoru was well versed with the sword and other facets of the Shinobi, it was his talent with words that won him more duels than any of his swordplay or ninjutsu combined. Liànshi smirked and with a move of her hand, beckoned the Awaikage courtier closer. “I heard of your visit at the summit with the Kage's.” He waited in polite silence to speak, lifting himself. “The other nations fight and feud, tackling matters of civil unrest wanton paranoia. A generation of peace has effected them all differently. Others have drifted so far into incompetence that they are as intimidating as garden furniture. A few, simply so anxious for conflict, a swarm of dogs to assault anything that threatens the hovel.” Satoru folded his arms behind his back, eying the Lady not with the practiced reverence of before but with the idle stares of a shrewd tactician. “It's the rabid hounds that we need to approach cautiously.” Liànshi dared such a faint curl of her lips that anyone but Satoru would have missed. “The campaign in Taki no Kuni obviously garnered some attention...” “Attention divided from our successes in Ta no Kuni,” The Awaikage added quickly. “Our new allies among the Fūma clan have expedited our operations. Talks with the Daimyo will conclude by the next morning.” “And my daughter? Your-” She stopped, once more presenting a smile that was appropriately divine to the eye, if not also wicked. “'Our Tsuchikage...the village goes restless in her absence.” “Some of our units already return from the Land of Waterfall though the bulk of them will remain stabilizing the new regime. The Tsuchikage is well, though she speaks to no one.” Satoru peered at the first Lady for any inclination of worry, tell tale signs of a mother's concern. Instead he found nonchalance and a cold indifference. The display did not move him, though he learned more about the Tiger of the Yun than her words dared to betray. The silence between them was interrupted by the timbre of bells and soft gongs. Several notes, each mildly louder than the last until they hummed out had declared that a new hour had begun. Yun Liànshi barely awaited for the echo to finish resounding from the walls before she spoke. “I will have my meeting with Sound and Waterfall's newly elected before the month's closure...”her voice of melody gently evolved, preempting something else less affable. “I want the power of these Biju hunters.” An eyebrow threatened to inch toward the courtier's hairline. “My Lady?” “You don't think it's worth seeking out?” Her tone lowered, her gaze narrowing to the absolute edge between engaged and a predatory stare. “We've for so long regarded the tailed beasts as, at best, gods. At worst, weapons capable of only mass destruction.” The wind swept through and Liànshi only paused so that her words would not wage a contest with the breezes. “Their presence alone snuffed out the ambitions of many of our neighbors, if the late Uzamaki is any proof. An independent force capable of removing such deterrents out of the picture is far too powerful to ignore.” Satoru did not disagree, yet. “Presuming they are as renegade as the other nations claim.” “You have doubts?” The Yun inquired. The Lord of Scorpions declined his head. “I simply know that the other nations are eager to put an end to them before they suffer indignities of their own. If one nation losses a beast, it's far too attractive to support these hunters to even the scales, inciting the rage of the rival countries. Even if they are independent, I wonder how long will they stay that way—a war of artition does not seem like one they'd wish to face against powers as established as those who shelter the demons.” “Adding to sense of urgency we need to find them and to surely protect our own.” “We have no jinchuriki to protect.” He stated flatly. A feeling rushed through him, and though he was not bold to touch the edge of his exposed neck, he swore he felt the scraping of claws along his throat. The words “Why not?” passed over the Yun's lips that sounded just short of turning feral. “The Yonbi left over a month ago, during our siege of Taki. We've sent agents, though he seems to have grown skilled in evading us. The other...has been gone longer.” “And you did not feel fit to report it to me?” The Lady was facing him directly now, eyes now examining him as if he were nothing else than prey. Satoru remained collected even as hostile stares scrutinized ever inch of his being, silencing his instincts that erupted in a frantic to the atmosphere swelling in the gardens. “The decesion makers of Iwagakure are informed. The Tsuchikage, your daughter, views this as a fairly negligible concern.” A glare engulfed her features but was parried by Satoru's icy indifference. “I am the wife of the Daimyo, Awaikage, and therefore I 'am' Iwagakure.” “You are the First Lady of Tsuchi no Kuni.” Again, not disagreeing, yet he understood what implications he suggested with his statement. “I feel that you forget I am a veteran of Hidden Rock.” “Never my Lady. Though that is your role no longer. Fortune has worked in your favor that your wisdom, not your battle prowess, will help empower our nation. I am envious of the honor bestowed upon you.” Liànshi, allow the the duel of her disapproving stare and his masked stoic demeanor to linger slightly longer, until eventually she turned a shoulder to him. “Is there anything else you have conveniently left from my ears?” “Nothing concrete, my Lady. Our role is to filter through the rumors and lies, from peasant folk to bureaucrat alike. If not from me, the Tsuchikage will present what has been learned so you my best direct the nation forward.” Reaching to his sleeve, perhaps the most animate gesture he had made since their dialogue began he presented an ornate letter. “The Kazekage has invited us to a festival. A winter soiree.” Her laughter was melodic and shrill. “And what do those dessert ruffians know about Winter?” She took the letter, eying the name of the Nanadaime Kazekage which sent a slender brow skyward. “They have a new Kazekage? So soon...” “It seems so.” “Hm.” She sighed, a hand along her hip while she peered at the mountainous horizons. “I would very much like to meet this new Kazekage. You say my daughter is on her way?” “In but a few days time.” “Then leave me. I have to prepare for the celebration.” Though she set her back to the Awaikage, she spoke over her shoulder. “And by the morrow I want information on these hunters. Regardless off whatever personal circumstances you may have. Their hideouts, their associates, what teas they like. I want our own beasts rounded up however and whatever means neccesary...and I want our next operations to go smoothly.” A crease formed at Satoru's brow, though he dismissed it as quickly as it came. “Hai,” he said readily, bowing deeply. “As you say.” With a dainty wave of her hand, the Yun waved him off and Satoru retreated before pivoting fully to depart. Quickly, as if waiting with belated breath, handmaidens once more filled the room, occupying the space that he had filled in their meeting. They bowed, offering him kind farewells that he ignored, maintaining his firm pace towards the ivory doors that made up the revered grounds. “The First Lady thinks herself a Warlord...”he muttered, thanking his ancestors that only the winds caught the words of his disgust. |
