endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2010-10-21 10:21 am
endless_scrolls) wrote2010-10-21 10:21 am
Entry tags:
Log: RM Collection Time
Title: Collection Time
Type: RP log
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Character(s): Tenten, Mizuki; brief mentions of Uchiha Sasuke
Pairing(s): None
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own only the part that I played in this.
Note: Log originally started for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
red_moon_comm comm. 'Debts were always meant to be repaid. But the how was left up for them to decide.'
Dedicated to: My love of mafia games
Mizuki groaned and popped his shoulder with a dull crack. It did little to ease the ache in his back and feet, which he could not relieve so easily. After a long night of work at the museum, all he could think about was lying down in bed and not waking up for hours. Right now though, he had to contend with the walk home. Normally, Mizuki would detour through the park, since at this hour there would be only a scant handful of dog-walkers and health nuts to mar the quiet beauty. This morning he was forgoing his relaxing routine and headed the mile toward his apartment. Sometimes he would catch the early bus if the weather was nasty, but he didn’t feel like waiting.
Twenty minutes later, Mizuki trudged up the steps to his apartment. It was the style where the front door opened into several separate suites. As he walked towards his door (at the far end of the hallway, perfectly tucked away from the noise of the street), he noticed something out of the ordinary. There was something wedged between the door and the frame. Curiously, he tugged it out.
One of the benefits of being Sasuke's second in command was the flow of information that tended to land at her feet. After all, the young Uchiha's life was already riddled with enough responsibilities without the constant influx of daily reports. So it fell on Tenten to sort through all of the facts and present the ones of importance to him when the time came. Which was how she found out about Mizuki in the first place. There was nothing particularly secret about the other's case, it was the typical 'good-cop-turned-slightly-bad' scenario that was broadcast across all channels. Because the force needed to send a message to all the crime lords in the city and was more than willing to use one of their own to do it.
Of course, that also meant putting Mizuki into the line of fire by placing him in the same place they send all of the captured criminals. And for a fallen soldier of law, it was as close to hell as an officer could get in the living world. But that was where the Taka organization had come in. And now there was a debt that needed to be paid.
Money had been the most practical source of payment, that came to mind, short, sweet, and to the point. But years of time and labor needed to be compensated with more labor, she thought. And Sasuke had made it perfectly clear that he wanted more man-power for the Taka faction over finances. So it was with a few phone calls and artfully skillful prying that Tenten found Mizuki's temporary home. And did well to leave him a short note concerning his payment plan.
Now it was only a matter of waiting for him to arrive.
Mizuki felt anesthetized. There was a faint tingling sensation in his hands and feet, and a funny ringing in his ears, but not much else. The world had quieted, despite the fact that it was just waking up to car horns and the door slams of careless school-bound chilren. He made a detached observation, after a few moments of blank staring and blinking, that he was in shock. He decided it was an odd sensation and not suitable for the survival of a species. Wasn’t quite sure how it had avoided being culled from the gene pool.
To a casual observer, the note was innocuous, if a little standoffish. It did not blare “shady dealings” nor could it be used as blackmail or evidence. It was neatly typed, no handwriting to trace. It was small enough to be bypassed as a note from one friend to another, big enough for it to be impossible to miss by the recipient. No, missing something like this could spell things worse than death.
The noise of a chair scraping the floor brought Mizuki partially out of his daze. He was in his cramped kitchen, hand resting on the back of a wooden chair. He looked back to see the front door wide open. Cross the room, close door, bathroom, cabinet. Bright light. Glass...glass...glass, aha. Water and pills, little white pills. Old, but probably still useful. Bitter-tasting, but rousing. Bedroom.
Mizuki set the alarm for a few hours before seven. He’d eat, shower, pray, and see what was to be seen at Dock 17.
---------------------
Quietly, she blew out a slow and steady stream of air, mingling with the cool breeze to form a puff of warm breath from within her body. And silently, she watched in mild interest while the thin wisps curled and swayed up towards the starry sky above. The days were fairly balmy and reflective of the summer season that had graced them all with rather tropical weather. But nights at the docks were contrastingly refreshing with a cool breeze blowing in from the open water front, the reprieve from the sweltering rays of the sun becoming more and more notable as the days passed. The constant need to wear her business attire for both her day and night jobs were certainly more bearable that way. And if they happened to add to the eerie atmosphere, all the better for it.
Their intentions needed to be made crystal clear, and it would not be the first time someone took her less than seriously after discovering that they were doing business with a woman.
Shifting once more, Tenten peered out from behind the metal doors of the warehouse for any signs of movement, and found none. Then again, she did arrive a half hour before the appointed time. Though she took Mizuki to be a man of his word with some ounce of honor, it was never a wasted bit of effort to be cautious. Especially in this part of town so late at night where all manner of disreputable souls both free and chained to the obligations of a clan walked the streets. It was, perhaps, one of the stranger quirks of her personality. But to Tenten, arriving earlier than expected to the meeting spot made sense, especially where safety was concerned. It allowed her to memorize the layout of the area should she have a need to make use of it. And it ensured that there would be less of a chance for surprises later on. The chill in the air was hardly a big price to pay. Considering her two year long career working in such a fashion, survive for this long, things could certainly be worse.
Mizuki timed it so that his speeding cab driver dropped him off near the docks only slightly early. He would need some time to find the specific warehouse mentioned, but he didn’t want to be too far away from the meeting time.
Still somewhat under the influence of anti-anxiety medication, Mizuki stalked between the metal warehouses that lead to the docks. There was still some light on the horizon, but deepening shadows combined with his dark clothing were still able to mostly hide him from view. Mizuki touched the object tucked snugly under his arm. Cold metal met his fingertips, and he withdrew his hand, relieved. His sports jacket effectively hid the shoulder holster, hopefully without being conspicuous. The note had said to be prompt, it hadn’t said not to expect the worst possible situation. He really, really hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. He was so out of practice, he’d probably shoot himself before his target.
Not to mention what his blackmailer/contact would do to him if they found out...
Mizuki glanced over his shoulder, wiped cold, clammy hands on his jeans. Filled with unease, despite the medicinal crutch, the pale-haired man weaved his way through pallets and temporarily discarded machinery to dock 17. Purposely making more noise now, so that he wouldn’t be accused of sneaking around, Mizuki approached the door.
By her watch, it was already a minute or two past the appointed time before she heard or saw any rustle in the dead of night. Had see been a overzealous person who cherished punctuality, he might've been killed right then and there before a deal was ever even made. And on any other day, that would've been the most likely outcome. He was on their time, after all, not the other way around. Blatant disregard for the rules they set marked him as a seed of trouble and not worth their time or effort to enlist. But Sasuke had made it clear: they needed men. So Tenten steadied her trigger finger (for all her preferences for blades, bullets were faster and more suited for the situation).
After all, her clock might just be a few minutes fast, or his a few too slow.
All the same, if it was his intention to wake up half the neighborhood, he was certainly doing a fine job, making plenty of noises to announce his arrival and presence. Then again, it was a benefit for her as well, knowing Mizuki's exact location and a direction to aim her focus towards. But like everything in life, there were pros and cons to consider. And while it kept him from coming upon her unnoticed and risk the chance of Tenten mistaking his quiet approach as an intruder or a betrayer, it also held the risk of drawing far too much attention to what was supposed to be an empty dock area.
Feeling the cold steel slide dangerously against the skin of her wrist, Tenten wrapped her fingers around the handle of the knife as it slid into place and very effortlessly flung it out from the shadows. It flew almost soundlessly, and ended with an echoing twang of metal against concrete as it embedded itself into the ground just a few precarious inches away from the other's feet. Watch where you step, Mizuki. The next could be your last.
Mizuki startled badly, flinching away from the flashing blade even as it buried its tip into the tarmac still softened by the heat of the day. He stared at it, then looked to where it had come from, trying to gather his wits. His animal instinct was to run, far and fast, and his police instinct was to find cover and return fire. Either would get him killed at this point, he was sure.
Mizuki cleared his throat nervously. “I will take more caution in the future,” he assured. He stayed where he was, the open air behind him prickling the back of his neck, but not wanting to move for fear of losing a limb or his life.
He leaned down slowly and plucked the knife from the ground, vaguely considered keeping it, quickly decided against it, and lobbed it carefully back in the direction it had come from. It landed with a clatter, spun, and stopped some distance from the deep shadow he was sure he was being watched from. He was careful to keep the flying knife low to the ground, and throw it in such a way that there was no mistake it wasn’t an aggressive act. His knife-throwing skills were obviously very poor. He iterated to himself that must tread very, very carefully.
Mizuki held his hands loosely at his sides, palms open and towards his...contact. Blackmailer. He said nothing, waited for her (for he was sure it was a woman’s voice that spoke) to say something first. It was abundantly clear he wasn’t in charge of this conversation.
There was some amusement and secret glee at seeing his sudden and somewhat frightened reaction. Understandably so. Suddenly realizing that you were only a few centimeters off of missing a toe or two is never a comforting thought. But that was the whole point of it, wasn't it, to scare him into submission? She couldn't be sure what Mizuki's mind was thinking going into this. However, Tenten was determined to set the mood of this encounter straight off the bat, and the knife had been the first step. There would be no opportunity for him to think his demands were more important than theirs, or that his wants even mattered in this.
She was in control. Everything that transpired that night would be a direct result of her skills of negotiation. Or rather, the level of his desperation. And if he wanted to remain living as comfortably has he had been all those years in prison, then he would agree to their terms without question. It was only a matter of persuading him to choose a life of servitude over death and his immediate freedom.
His actions, fortunately, seemed to favor the former. She would be able to use that.
In the darkness of the warehouse, she could see almost everything that happened just outside of the doors. And with hardly a single reliable source of light glaring in through the windows, Tenten was perfectly hidden. So when the blade glided in past the double doors, there was no chance of Mizuki seeing her stop its motion with the heel of her shoe. There was only the telltale sound of scrapping echos suddenly cutting off. And only the veiled glimmer of the blade as she kicked it up into the air with the toe so and caught it when it came within reach. No doubt, the dull gleam of metal reflecting dull light coming in from those very doors allotted him a glimpse of that.
"There's a reason we're not meeting in broad daylight, and it wasn't to accommodate your sleeping habits... or your other ones for that matter," she said, easily sliding the knife back into its hidden perch inside of her sleeve. They were not serious enough to be considered drug habits, but it was still very much possible to develop an addiction to sleeping pills. Tenten had seen it a few times before with the weaker agents. Too haunted by their nightmares and the blood staining their hands, the recruits would resort to sleeping their torments away hoping that they would simply disappear in the morning. But they never did. If only those men could learn that one lesson. "We wouldn't want to draw too much attention to ourselves, now would we?"
Mizuki stayed quiet at that, letting his silence agree for him. He wasn’t sure what other habits she was referring to, and didn’t care to correct her. Let her think he had easily identifiable weaknesses; it would just make the turnaround easier. For while he was stuck playing their game for now, Mizuki was sure that once he got his foot in the door, maybe proved himself useful, he would make a name for himself. People are always useful tools, especially the ones who thought they could bully him with power.
Still, the flash of a blade casually kicked into a hidden hand did unnerve him a little. Best keep his head down for now.
He was torn, to be quite honest. There was a roil of emotions in his head, barely kept in check. There was obviously the fear of harm at the hands of this...woman, doubt that he could get them to agree to let him go. And anger, lots of anger. Some at himself for starting this whole debacle, knifing Iruka (that dumb bastard). Most of it at the courts for condemning him, and the police force for not backing him up. Some brotherhood that was. Then there was the greasy feeling of being in prison, even for the relatively short time he was in there. Just the thought of being surrounded by rapists, murderers, and thieves made him itch. Petty crimes for petty reasons.
Really, the mafia was the only reason he was alive to stand where he was today. He had quickly folded out of fear for his life, and begged a mafioso to extend his protection. He hadn’t thought much of the fact that he hadn’t paid his dues for it while in prison. Well, he thought wryly, he was paying them now.
Mizuki ducked his head. “What do you want?” Cliche, yes, but it was almost like a script that one had to follow. Plus, he didn’t feel like beating around the bush. He wanted this done with as quickly as possible, one way or the other.
Type: RP log
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Character(s): Tenten, Mizuki; brief mentions of Uchiha Sasuke
Pairing(s): None
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own only the part that I played in this.
Note: Log originally started for the
red_moon_comm comm. 'Debts were always meant to be repaid. But the how was left up for them to decide.'Dedicated to: My love of mafia games
Mizuki groaned and popped his shoulder with a dull crack. It did little to ease the ache in his back and feet, which he could not relieve so easily. After a long night of work at the museum, all he could think about was lying down in bed and not waking up for hours. Right now though, he had to contend with the walk home. Normally, Mizuki would detour through the park, since at this hour there would be only a scant handful of dog-walkers and health nuts to mar the quiet beauty. This morning he was forgoing his relaxing routine and headed the mile toward his apartment. Sometimes he would catch the early bus if the weather was nasty, but he didn’t feel like waiting.
Twenty minutes later, Mizuki trudged up the steps to his apartment. It was the style where the front door opened into several separate suites. As he walked towards his door (at the far end of the hallway, perfectly tucked away from the noise of the street), he noticed something out of the ordinary. There was something wedged between the door and the frame. Curiously, he tugged it out.
One of the benefits of being Sasuke's second in command was the flow of information that tended to land at her feet. After all, the young Uchiha's life was already riddled with enough responsibilities without the constant influx of daily reports. So it fell on Tenten to sort through all of the facts and present the ones of importance to him when the time came. Which was how she found out about Mizuki in the first place. There was nothing particularly secret about the other's case, it was the typical 'good-cop-turned-slightly-bad' scenario that was broadcast across all channels. Because the force needed to send a message to all the crime lords in the city and was more than willing to use one of their own to do it.
Of course, that also meant putting Mizuki into the line of fire by placing him in the same place they send all of the captured criminals. And for a fallen soldier of law, it was as close to hell as an officer could get in the living world. But that was where the Taka organization had come in. And now there was a debt that needed to be paid.
Money had been the most practical source of payment, that came to mind, short, sweet, and to the point. But years of time and labor needed to be compensated with more labor, she thought. And Sasuke had made it perfectly clear that he wanted more man-power for the Taka faction over finances. So it was with a few phone calls and artfully skillful prying that Tenten found Mizuki's temporary home. And did well to leave him a short note concerning his payment plan.
Now it was only a matter of waiting for him to arrive.
Mizuki felt anesthetized. There was a faint tingling sensation in his hands and feet, and a funny ringing in his ears, but not much else. The world had quieted, despite the fact that it was just waking up to car horns and the door slams of careless school-bound chilren. He made a detached observation, after a few moments of blank staring and blinking, that he was in shock. He decided it was an odd sensation and not suitable for the survival of a species. Wasn’t quite sure how it had avoided being culled from the gene pool.
To a casual observer, the note was innocuous, if a little standoffish. It did not blare “shady dealings” nor could it be used as blackmail or evidence. It was neatly typed, no handwriting to trace. It was small enough to be bypassed as a note from one friend to another, big enough for it to be impossible to miss by the recipient. No, missing something like this could spell things worse than death.
The noise of a chair scraping the floor brought Mizuki partially out of his daze. He was in his cramped kitchen, hand resting on the back of a wooden chair. He looked back to see the front door wide open. Cross the room, close door, bathroom, cabinet. Bright light. Glass...glass...glass, aha. Water and pills, little white pills. Old, but probably still useful. Bitter-tasting, but rousing. Bedroom.
Mizuki set the alarm for a few hours before seven. He’d eat, shower, pray, and see what was to be seen at Dock 17.
---------------------
Quietly, she blew out a slow and steady stream of air, mingling with the cool breeze to form a puff of warm breath from within her body. And silently, she watched in mild interest while the thin wisps curled and swayed up towards the starry sky above. The days were fairly balmy and reflective of the summer season that had graced them all with rather tropical weather. But nights at the docks were contrastingly refreshing with a cool breeze blowing in from the open water front, the reprieve from the sweltering rays of the sun becoming more and more notable as the days passed. The constant need to wear her business attire for both her day and night jobs were certainly more bearable that way. And if they happened to add to the eerie atmosphere, all the better for it.
Their intentions needed to be made crystal clear, and it would not be the first time someone took her less than seriously after discovering that they were doing business with a woman.
Shifting once more, Tenten peered out from behind the metal doors of the warehouse for any signs of movement, and found none. Then again, she did arrive a half hour before the appointed time. Though she took Mizuki to be a man of his word with some ounce of honor, it was never a wasted bit of effort to be cautious. Especially in this part of town so late at night where all manner of disreputable souls both free and chained to the obligations of a clan walked the streets. It was, perhaps, one of the stranger quirks of her personality. But to Tenten, arriving earlier than expected to the meeting spot made sense, especially where safety was concerned. It allowed her to memorize the layout of the area should she have a need to make use of it. And it ensured that there would be less of a chance for surprises later on. The chill in the air was hardly a big price to pay. Considering her two year long career working in such a fashion, survive for this long, things could certainly be worse.
Mizuki timed it so that his speeding cab driver dropped him off near the docks only slightly early. He would need some time to find the specific warehouse mentioned, but he didn’t want to be too far away from the meeting time.
Still somewhat under the influence of anti-anxiety medication, Mizuki stalked between the metal warehouses that lead to the docks. There was still some light on the horizon, but deepening shadows combined with his dark clothing were still able to mostly hide him from view. Mizuki touched the object tucked snugly under his arm. Cold metal met his fingertips, and he withdrew his hand, relieved. His sports jacket effectively hid the shoulder holster, hopefully without being conspicuous. The note had said to be prompt, it hadn’t said not to expect the worst possible situation. He really, really hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. He was so out of practice, he’d probably shoot himself before his target.
Not to mention what his blackmailer/contact would do to him if they found out...
Mizuki glanced over his shoulder, wiped cold, clammy hands on his jeans. Filled with unease, despite the medicinal crutch, the pale-haired man weaved his way through pallets and temporarily discarded machinery to dock 17. Purposely making more noise now, so that he wouldn’t be accused of sneaking around, Mizuki approached the door.
By her watch, it was already a minute or two past the appointed time before she heard or saw any rustle in the dead of night. Had see been a overzealous person who cherished punctuality, he might've been killed right then and there before a deal was ever even made. And on any other day, that would've been the most likely outcome. He was on their time, after all, not the other way around. Blatant disregard for the rules they set marked him as a seed of trouble and not worth their time or effort to enlist. But Sasuke had made it clear: they needed men. So Tenten steadied her trigger finger (for all her preferences for blades, bullets were faster and more suited for the situation).
After all, her clock might just be a few minutes fast, or his a few too slow.
All the same, if it was his intention to wake up half the neighborhood, he was certainly doing a fine job, making plenty of noises to announce his arrival and presence. Then again, it was a benefit for her as well, knowing Mizuki's exact location and a direction to aim her focus towards. But like everything in life, there were pros and cons to consider. And while it kept him from coming upon her unnoticed and risk the chance of Tenten mistaking his quiet approach as an intruder or a betrayer, it also held the risk of drawing far too much attention to what was supposed to be an empty dock area.
Feeling the cold steel slide dangerously against the skin of her wrist, Tenten wrapped her fingers around the handle of the knife as it slid into place and very effortlessly flung it out from the shadows. It flew almost soundlessly, and ended with an echoing twang of metal against concrete as it embedded itself into the ground just a few precarious inches away from the other's feet. Watch where you step, Mizuki. The next could be your last.
Mizuki startled badly, flinching away from the flashing blade even as it buried its tip into the tarmac still softened by the heat of the day. He stared at it, then looked to where it had come from, trying to gather his wits. His animal instinct was to run, far and fast, and his police instinct was to find cover and return fire. Either would get him killed at this point, he was sure.
Mizuki cleared his throat nervously. “I will take more caution in the future,” he assured. He stayed where he was, the open air behind him prickling the back of his neck, but not wanting to move for fear of losing a limb or his life.
He leaned down slowly and plucked the knife from the ground, vaguely considered keeping it, quickly decided against it, and lobbed it carefully back in the direction it had come from. It landed with a clatter, spun, and stopped some distance from the deep shadow he was sure he was being watched from. He was careful to keep the flying knife low to the ground, and throw it in such a way that there was no mistake it wasn’t an aggressive act. His knife-throwing skills were obviously very poor. He iterated to himself that must tread very, very carefully.
Mizuki held his hands loosely at his sides, palms open and towards his...contact. Blackmailer. He said nothing, waited for her (for he was sure it was a woman’s voice that spoke) to say something first. It was abundantly clear he wasn’t in charge of this conversation.
There was some amusement and secret glee at seeing his sudden and somewhat frightened reaction. Understandably so. Suddenly realizing that you were only a few centimeters off of missing a toe or two is never a comforting thought. But that was the whole point of it, wasn't it, to scare him into submission? She couldn't be sure what Mizuki's mind was thinking going into this. However, Tenten was determined to set the mood of this encounter straight off the bat, and the knife had been the first step. There would be no opportunity for him to think his demands were more important than theirs, or that his wants even mattered in this.
She was in control. Everything that transpired that night would be a direct result of her skills of negotiation. Or rather, the level of his desperation. And if he wanted to remain living as comfortably has he had been all those years in prison, then he would agree to their terms without question. It was only a matter of persuading him to choose a life of servitude over death and his immediate freedom.
His actions, fortunately, seemed to favor the former. She would be able to use that.
In the darkness of the warehouse, she could see almost everything that happened just outside of the doors. And with hardly a single reliable source of light glaring in through the windows, Tenten was perfectly hidden. So when the blade glided in past the double doors, there was no chance of Mizuki seeing her stop its motion with the heel of her shoe. There was only the telltale sound of scrapping echos suddenly cutting off. And only the veiled glimmer of the blade as she kicked it up into the air with the toe so and caught it when it came within reach. No doubt, the dull gleam of metal reflecting dull light coming in from those very doors allotted him a glimpse of that.
"There's a reason we're not meeting in broad daylight, and it wasn't to accommodate your sleeping habits... or your other ones for that matter," she said, easily sliding the knife back into its hidden perch inside of her sleeve. They were not serious enough to be considered drug habits, but it was still very much possible to develop an addiction to sleeping pills. Tenten had seen it a few times before with the weaker agents. Too haunted by their nightmares and the blood staining their hands, the recruits would resort to sleeping their torments away hoping that they would simply disappear in the morning. But they never did. If only those men could learn that one lesson. "We wouldn't want to draw too much attention to ourselves, now would we?"
Mizuki stayed quiet at that, letting his silence agree for him. He wasn’t sure what other habits she was referring to, and didn’t care to correct her. Let her think he had easily identifiable weaknesses; it would just make the turnaround easier. For while he was stuck playing their game for now, Mizuki was sure that once he got his foot in the door, maybe proved himself useful, he would make a name for himself. People are always useful tools, especially the ones who thought they could bully him with power.
Still, the flash of a blade casually kicked into a hidden hand did unnerve him a little. Best keep his head down for now.
He was torn, to be quite honest. There was a roil of emotions in his head, barely kept in check. There was obviously the fear of harm at the hands of this...woman, doubt that he could get them to agree to let him go. And anger, lots of anger. Some at himself for starting this whole debacle, knifing Iruka (that dumb bastard). Most of it at the courts for condemning him, and the police force for not backing him up. Some brotherhood that was. Then there was the greasy feeling of being in prison, even for the relatively short time he was in there. Just the thought of being surrounded by rapists, murderers, and thieves made him itch. Petty crimes for petty reasons.
Really, the mafia was the only reason he was alive to stand where he was today. He had quickly folded out of fear for his life, and begged a mafioso to extend his protection. He hadn’t thought much of the fact that he hadn’t paid his dues for it while in prison. Well, he thought wryly, he was paying them now.
Mizuki ducked his head. “What do you want?” Cliche, yes, but it was almost like a script that one had to follow. Plus, he didn’t feel like beating around the bush. He wanted this done with as quickly as possible, one way or the other.