The legendary struggle of ancient clans for the sacred power of chakra.

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    Post by Aramitama on Mon Dec 03, 2018 5:56 pm

    The day sprawled out before the legendary Grass Village as a beautiful one, the time already past noon, the air deliciously hot and a touch humid. The ruler of the village loved this weather, his toned body adorned only with a pale blue tank top and a pair of white shorts. Rather than full war attire - a senseless precaution within the confines of his own domain - he simply carried with him one of his standard issue katana. While he had nearly no contact with his own clan, something deep within his blood caused him to despise the flimsy metal of the thing; he nearly felt that he could snap it between two of his fingers as easily as me may a twig. He would, eventually, need a weapon as splendid as himself, though this would need to wait as currently village funds went towards village improvements as part of his own policy elections.

    But now was not the time for thoughts of war and death. No, those tidings would come without reservation in their own times and he needn't push. Currently he reclined rather splendidly upon a small bamboo chair, just outside of a local restaurant from which he had procured a pot of tea which he sipped lazily on. His posture, attitude, attire, and apparent lack of any guarding might have villagers double taking the newly appointed kage; certainly he was lovely to look at, but he did not conduct himself as one might expect of a rule of a nation. No, he lacked the constant air of stress, the weights of business, the frantic or pessimistic disposition of those who felt responsible for everyone around them at all moments. In fact, even now without moving or speaking he seemed to radiate an indomitable optimism and those who passed him left with a smile more often than not.

    As a matter of fact, he did not do the village's paperwork nor did he see to the minutia of village affairs that the previous ruler had drowned under and continued to do so. He simply made high level decisions and allowed those beneath him, primarily that same previous rule he had so recently ousted, to take care of the details and filing and stamping - all events with which he could not waste his precious time. This gave him this extra luxury to sit about and enjoy tea, or music, or art, or pleasant company which he now hoped for. Before him was a lovely garden filled with tropical flora of all sorts. A popular location, the market surrounding it had plenty of foot traffic and he sat, waiting, as if certain that someone would stumble upon him by a twist of their own good fortune and his own unceasing fate. Steam rolled up over his face as he took another long sip o his cinnamon tea, the aroma strong around him, and yet not a single drop of sweat came off of him as he took in his unseasonably hot beverage.

      Current date/time is Mon Dec 10, 2018 6:51 pm