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 Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 11:07 pm
Suupaa 8 [ スーパー ] Sushi Palace is a neat little trinket, one of the rare food joints that is small, and undiscovered. It has great sushi, and sub-par Hibachi grilled food, which the patrons fake at enjoying anyways. It is located near the edges of town, giving reason to it's undiscovered status.
Few know the true secret of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace, in that is is owned and operated by a former Shinigami Captain! That man is none other than Dorobo Hason! Love him or hate him, this guy offers top-notch healing services and great sushi to anyone who knows the right questions. He's kinda hard to get along with, and has something of a temper, so watch out for when he starts throwing knives!
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 11:42 pm
•Dorobo Hason•
Owner of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace  " Imaimashii sake wo eru mata hasore anata no nodo ni naru desho u! " Came the curses, spoken in simple Hiragana dialect. It was early in the day, and the shop where the shouts came from had yet to open up. Already, screams and yelling had issued from the shop, giving testament to the owner's temper. What a place.
The origin of the shouting was revealed to be a simple man, not of extreme height. He wore very minimalist clothes, which included a half-vest, and a hakama which showed the sides of his underwear. Oddly, it was all a weird shade of green. There's also the eyepatch, let's not forget that. Simple leather across his face, and the tiniest of scars peaked out from behind it. The guy had a punked out eye, what can ya' say? From the cropped white hair, odd as his face didn't have but a few wrinkles around the mouth and eyes, to the soles of his shoeless feet, this man had an air about him that screamed he was in control. And angry as hell. " I'm talkin' to you, Iwagakure! " He shouted at a man who ducked behind a door. Just in time, too, as he just barely dodged a knife that the guy had thrown in his anger. It embedded itself pretty deeply into the wood, showing not only it's extremely sharp edge, but the strength of the man who threw it.
That man's name was Dorobo Hason. Owner and Operator of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace, a simple, if not outright breathing in it's simplicity, food joint where one could find good sushi and half-alright Hibachi. Dorobo scowled hard at the door, where his employee had once again dodged a knife. It was normal practice for someone to forget you had to warm the Sake, and not to leave it out on the counter for too long. That get's you bad Sake, and bad Sake means gas and puking. Dolts, all of 'em.
Dorobo grunted, and rose from where he had been sitting cross-legged behind the counter. He began mumbling and muttering small curses in japanese, and shouting one randomly at the people who were in the back. It was a small shop, also weird considering it's name included the word palace. So there were what, five people getting ready back there? Whatever. Dorobo made his way over to where the Knife was set in the wall, and with a sudden and jerking movement, pulled it from the wall. He looked down, and wiped it on the clean sloth of his Hakama, clearing bits of wood from the steel blade. He grumbled again, before walking over to the door.
He lifted the shade, and spotted a few people walking around. It would be time to open! Jesus christ! He flipped the sign on the door that read closed on one side, and open on the other. That way, people knew s**t was up. With a flourish, Dorobo opened the door, and knocked down the little doorstop so it wouldn't open behind him. He turned around, and walked back to where he had been sitting before. " People, we are open! That means you, Iwagakure! " He boomed in simple japanese to the curtain that separated the eating area and the back. He then busied himself with pulling out knives and setting little plates in their correct order. Yeah, this was one of those places where you got to watch the Suishi Chef cut up the meat.
The man known as Iwagakure came from the back, wearing much more clothes than Dorobo. He set himself beside Dorobo, and started copying what his master did. Sushi Chef in Training perhaps?
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Posted: Sun Dec 23, 2012 3:00 am
•• ᎪᎷᎪᎢᎬᎡᎪᏚᏌ ᎻᎪᏚᎾ₦ ••
✘вιтcн qυєєи oғ кαяαкυяα ✘
"Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin -- more even than death.... Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habit. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man."
_______________________________________________________________________ Dreams are delicate worlds created by the subconscious to reflect the conscious mind; dreams are easily torn apart, a slight tug at its seam and it disperses into a cloud of the forgotten, a cloud of nothing, of blackness for many. Sleep creates these dreams, sleep a safe haven of resting and peace of mind, yes? Oh yes. One can dream of anything: a never ending happy memory, embarrassing events, whatever and wherever the mind can take one who is willing to dream. Everyone dreams; People, animals, fish, everyone dreams. Even the young lady, who sleeps so solemnly atop a well sized bed, obviously made for two, dreams as well. It seems her dream is quite the marvel, by the way her face looks. While in sleep, one can look much younger than one's actual age. Why? Humans are more vulnerable that way. It's not a surprise, no?
The young lady, quite snug beneath a beige colored comforter, turned to the empty half of the mattress. Her arm on a somewhat dented spot on the bed; the print is not fresh, nor is it too old. The person who was there before, already left. Already started his day, already ready, as opposed to the woman, lazying around on the bed, barely awake. She cuddled up closer to the dent on the bed, it was still warm. Warm, but not because it is fresh, right? No, it was because of the person who slept in it. Quite literally, he is flame, in every aspect of the uncontrollable element.
The sun already wanted to play, as its rays stretched into the room, onto the slowly rising dent on the bed. The light reached the young woman. Too early to wake up. Too early. The sun was her signal to turn and face the other side. Oh how she embraced the darkness, the cool, the damp. But, it seemed the rest of her sleep wanted to be pursued without the intention of being caught. Why? Because just as she eased herself in her new position, a loud voice yelled, and cursed, and screamed, as if that was all the disembodied voice could do. The voice killed people's sleep, murdered them-- no, slaughtered them. Her eyes fluttered open to reveal shimmering, blue colored irises, with flecks of gold near the pupil. Eyebrows scrunched together. This was her rude awakening. She would have to wake up now.
"Ugh..." the pained grunt left her. She didn't want to wake up. No, not at all, but the man's voice won't stop until everyone else was awake. The young woman made her way to her vanity, with a large mirror to reveal her tired face, her messy strawberry blonde locks, her less than casual wear of only an over sized t-shirt. "Amaterasu, you look horrible," she whispered to herself, as if it were some hideous secret which no one else could ever, ever learn. Amaterasu, as she so wrongly named herself, picked up a brush and ran it through her mane, as a hairdo of its size could not be understated to mere hair.
It took a few minutes to finally get her curls in their regular diffused, yet wavy style. It took less time for her to don her usual garb of a sun dress, the color of the sea, which ended in a flow of light material at her knees. While modest in its length, Amaterasu's choice of clothing still reflected her slight waist, her petite form, and her assets. Her facial routine is much more complicated than the former two. It included precision, tactic, and patience to achieve the more natural look for her, save the light blue shadow. With her daily ritual of getting ready accomplished, she was ready to be seen in public.
Amaterasu descended the stairs with her usual lady like grace. It was like any other day. Normal. The house which she inhabited is found above the restaurant; this makes it easier for her husband to run his business. Husband? Oh yes, the man yelling, and making the others cower in fear, is her spouse of who knows how long it has been already. The one who mutilated her sleep, and will keep on doing so for the rest of his life, is her husband. Her husband who would get a piece of her mind in a minute.
"Shut the ******** up! It is too early in the goddamn morning, Dorobo!" The woman yelled in a voice much louder than her partners. Her anger already seethed and permeated the somewhat calm atmosphere which previously surrounded the area. They were all dead. The b***h queen lived, and breathed her own fire. Amaterasu, more temperamental than he, with more spark inside her metaphorically. Anything could set her off, really. How he could stand it was a mystery to him and the customers.
_______________________________________________________________________
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Posted: Wed Dec 26, 2012 2:56 pm
•Dorobo Hason•
Owner of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace Dorobo flinched as yelling came from upstairs. That was one of the few voices that could really inspire fear in this man. Dorobo slammed his palm to his forehead with another curse in japanese. He had woken the sleeping b***h queen. Dammit. Dorobo felt a creeping dread enter his chest, before he gulped, and looked towards the back. Hidden behind the simple curtain, and then a few hallways, there were stairs. His sharp hearing picked up light, almost airy steps descending down. She was coming for him.
That she beast was his wife of over a hundred years. Shinigami were a long lived people, and their establishments tended to stay around for quite a while. In this case, Dorobo and Amaterasu had been married for well over a hundred years, almost creeping onto five hundred years to be exact. Dorobo slammed his fist into his forehead. She had an anger that bellied his own. While he was almost always angry, always yelling at something, whenever Ame got mad, s**t his the proverbial fan.
Dorobo cursed again, and began shouting in japanese. He immediately blamed it on Iwagakure, as his shouting gave life to. " Sore ha Iwagakure wokuso datta! Anata ha watashini bicchiwo sakebu koto haari masen! " He knew Ame hated when he used Japanese around her, and so, he made it the usual business to yell back at her using his native language. Most people these days spoke english, since that was what people found to be hip, and cool. Whatever, Dorobo much preferred the feeling of Japanese on his lips. " It's time to work, Woman! " He shouted again.
Dorobo shook his head, and started shopping up lengths of seaweed wrap. " Ayyyy- aaaa. " He grumbled. Work work work. That's what a Sushi shop required, in order to run well.
Dorobo cursed again in Japanese, before grabbing the knife from the Chef beside him. Iwagakure understood English better than Japanese, the little b*****d. So most of the time, Dorobo needed to yell in the boy's native tongue. " No. You cut wrong. You stupid boy? " Dorobo said, making a mockery of the sentence. He pretty much mutilated his english, when around anyone but his close friends. " You need cut clean. Who want bad cut sushi? " Dorobo took the boy's hand under his own, and guided it through a few cuts, just to show him how it was done. All the while, his eyebrows were knit with a light anger, and he mumbled various curses under his breath.
Dorobo leaned back, and threw the knife into the wood cutting board beside Iwagakure's hand. " Now you try. " Dorobo crossed his arms, and watched as Iwagakure got back to cutting. The boy worked better under pressure, and Dorobo was more than happy enough to give him that.
When he was done, Dorobo rose up from his cross legged sitting position, and stretched out his back. There had been only a few customers, before Ame had woken up, and pretty soon, more would be coming. They loved his sushi. Dorobo looked to the curtain, and shouted back to his wife. " Ame, " He shouted, getting her attention with his nickname for her. " Grab the sake. It needs to be warmed. " Dorobo walked behind the curtain, shooting a final Glance to Iwagakure as he kept on a-cuttin'.
Ame was there a moment later, handing him a ceramic bottle of the sauce. It was good stuff; Dorobo much preferred to serve medium to high quality sake, rather than scrimping as much money as possible by purchasing the cheap stuff for the customers. He took it in hand, and started holding it in between his palms. While the workers knew that Dorobo had some secret way of warming Sake, they didn't know his last shout was code. Freaking badass code, like spies or something. It meant, " Ame, get your butt over here, I got something private. "
Dorobo was a master of fire. Even in his Gigai, the most uncomfortable thing in the world mind you, his body temperature was at least double that of a normal human's. It was child's play to roll the clay bottle in between his palms, in order to warm the sake. Dorobo gave a sharp glance to Amaterasu, and gently guided her to a corner of the shop. Behind a few boxes, so they could talk in peace.
" Ame, there has been some weird junk goin' on. " He stated simply, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, or trying to peep in. " Ya' remember Leere, right? The coffee guy. " Dorobo raised a hand to his neck, and rubbed it gently. Steam began to issue from the Sake, showing that it had already warmed. " He called me this mornin', and said that an old enemy or two is gonna be causing a ruckus. He said go ahead and drop by if we need to be more. " Dorobo waited for his wife's response. Leere wasn't exactly her favorite person, after all. He was a former Shinigami like them, but under different circumstances. Those circumstances had never been fully explained to him or Ame, and Dorobo cared not to pry. Ame did, though, and that's where her issue came up. When she was done, he went on. " It scared me, babe. He told us to get ready. When has he ever needed us to help? " It was true. Last month's hollow invasion, the king had come out and all that s**t. Dorobo remembered all the way back to the king before this guy, so that had to mean something. But a King coming out, and Leere still said " Just keep at home guy's, we got this. "
The expression on Dorobo's face was enough to tell Ame that he was actually scared. And I mean, what could scare this guy? The best Sushi Chef in town, the Master of Fire, and the King of all Healing. What really scared Dorobo?
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Posted: Sat Dec 29, 2012 11:18 pm
•• ᎪᎷᎪᎢᎬᎡᎪᏚᏌ ᎻᎪᏚᎾ₦ ••
✘вιтcн qυєєи oғ кαяαкυяα ✘
"Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin -- more even than death.... Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habit. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man."
_______________________________________________________________________ There goes Dorobo again, sprouting his nonsensical words in his native tongue. It was annoying. Amaterasu could not understand what the ******** he was talking about. All it was was jabber here jabber there, that was all japanese was to her. Well, it wasn't like Amaterasu didn't try to learn it. When she married Dorobo, after his incessant asking, she knew she would have to learn it, knew that she had time to learn it, knew that she should learn it, but she got lazy. It was too queer of a language for her to learn amongst her already multilingual self. She could learn French, Italian, Spanish, and English because they were all derived from a mother language with some changes obviously, but Japanese was all too different for her to learn. She wouldn't try to educate herself in the weird sounding syllables, nor will she challenge herself to do so.
"I don't understand..." Amaterasu was confused for the moment, but the confusion only fueled to her anger. Dorobo was doing it on purpose to irk her. Once, the man told her that he liked it when she was frustrated and angry. He was a masochist, obviously. He liked ensuing the wrath of his wife on his poor customers, but today, he wasn't going to get the benefit of the doubt. Today, Amaterasu refused to work. She was tired, lacking sleep, and whatnot. Dorobo would not let her rest. Never.
Amaterasu stomped her foot against the wood floors, throwing her miniature temper tantrum as she stormed out of the restaurant. "Do the ******** work yourself, b***h!" She yelled back to her husband, flipping him off on her way out. What to do now? Sleep? Sleep sounded nice. So, the blonde made her way to a misplaced couch in the hidden hallway to sleep. She was quite glad that Dorobo had not moved it in their bedroom after her countless nagging. It would serve as her makeshift bed for the moment.
Easily, she placed her person on the couch, and laid herself down. Amaterasu closed her eyes when suddenly, her nickname was being called out. The idiotic nickname that she loathed, but ended up getting attached to it in the end. My god, how she hated the nickname. What the hell was an Ame for crying out loud? She was Amaterasu, a name that was more beautiful than its owner, the shining goddess. And there Dorobo goes butchering it up and actually catching her attention with the stupid mutilated portion of the name. How sad. How mother ******** sad.
Sake? Didn't they have enough sake in the front? Wait, they did have enough sake in the front. So, why did he need her? Obviously, it was something urgent right? Or else he would have gotten it himself, or had that poor boy he abuses go and get it.
Without hesitation, Amaterasu picked up a sake bottle that was closest to her and made her way to her husband, who looked at her as if she was late. Oh what a douche bag. Dorobo lead her to the most uncomfortable place, even worse than the bodies they found their souls inhabiting. They were behind boxes at the corner of the shop? Then, her hunch was correct. It was urgent.
"What do you want?" The wife asked him curtly, throwing her own lurid glare at her husband. Dorobo was dying to talk, as if any more silence necessary would make his head burst into smithereens. Quickly, he glanced around to see if they were being spied on and whatnot. He was quite wary today. What the ******** happened? Was this information really that top secret? Even if the humans overheard it, they would not understand a thing.
Dorobo briefed Amaterasu on the situation at hand. All Amaterasu could do while he spoke was give a nod that she understood or raise her eyebrows at the things he conveyed to her. Of course she knew Leere, the idiotic perv that Dorobo fancied somewhat. He was one like them, but he would not tell Amaterasu a thing about his past. Is it so bad that she asked? She had a curiosity that most people don't understand, and most people included Leere. How hard would it be to tell her what the ******** happened and how the ******** he became a rouge? Not very hard. Dorobo and Amaterasu left because the system was quite unjust. It was not fair to either of their establishments, so of course they would leave.
But, Leere warned them about impending danger? And Dorobo was scared? What? Was this real life? Amaterasu couldn't let a man who she spent most of her many lifetimes with become so downtrodden by the looming adversaries. She could not.
The blonde reached for Dorobo's hand and held it tightly in both of hers. The warmth of his skin permeated and was leeched by Amaterasu's. He looked so vulnerable. Her fiery knight was vulnerable for once in their married life. Never had he expressed these emotions to her before. Not even when she wanted to die, end her long life once and for all did he show his fear. Now, it was different and the woman would act as any wife would.
Amaterasu closed the gap between the two of them, holding their hands to her. She stood on her tip toes and gave Dorobo a kiss. It was a tender kiss, and was her attempt to calm her husband down. One cannot watch one's love be taken by fear. It was not like Dorobo to be scared and Amaterasu was not going to let him be scared of anything. It was too wayward of a an act for the man she married. "Well, this can be the first," the woman stated, "but, you are Dorobo. Nothing like this should faze you. So it's Leere telling you to be on the defensive? If so, let's do it. Yes?" Amaterasu knew that she already failed at being nice, and this pep talk was going to be no different. Maybe a show of physical reassurance? And with that though, Ame released Dorobo's hand and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tightly into a hug. It was the best she could do . _______________________________________________________________________
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Posted: Sun Dec 30, 2012 11:24 pm
•Dorobo Hason•
Owner of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace Dorobo wasn't surprised when the woman got pissy with him. I mean, that's what she normally did. No big surprise there, that was just Amaterasu for you.What did surprise the man was her show of affection. she hardly ever did that. When ever she touched him, there was the motive of her sexual excitement there. But here she was, showing affection to try and calm him. Dorobo kissed her back gently, letting his height dominate the kiss. As she wrapped her arms around him, Dorobo let out a light yelp. " What the he-- " He said, before he was cut off from the embrace. He felt her leaching the heat from his skin, and loved it. The man of fire felt his wife melt into his frame, and sighed lightly. This was what he lived for, really.
In the years passing, Dorobo had truly fallen for Ame. Before her, Dorobo was the kind of person to never love, never let himself become vulnerable like that. You could give that reason as to why Dorobo felt scared at this moment, actually being needed to help protect the town and all. Amaterasu had changed that. There was always something about her that had caught his eye. From the mini-wars they had; she making a poison simply for the pleasure of him decoding it. It was a nice passtime. But the real break came when they had left Soul Society together. Things had gone awry with the justice system of Central 46 and the Gotei 13, and they couldn't stand the way they were mistreated by the hands of the law. So they left together, and things took a turn for the better. Years of seclusion together eventually turned into something people could bait at calling love. Well, love in one of it's simplest forms, at least.
Dorobo was a softie at heart, and the flame of passion burned in him. He couldn't help but enjoy each moment he got to spend with Amaterasu, when she was in his arms, and his heat was being sapped away by her cold-blooded self. He liked it too much to ever throw that away.
Dorobo let out a Sigh, before looking down at his wife. Damn, she was beautiful. " Allow me my fear, woman. It keeps a mind sharp and a blade sharper. " He said, reciting a small phrase someone had spoken long ago. Things like fear kept a person alive. Letting yourself run into a rut meant certain death. " I ain't scared of just myself dyin'. I'm scared that you're gonna get hurt too. " Dorobo was fearful of losing his wife most of all. All the sex, all the yelling, that meant nothing as long as he could keep her. As if to show evidence of this point, Dorobo brought her tighter into his arms.
" If worst comes to worst, We're gonna fight." Dorobo carefully laid a kiss on her forehead, and smirked confidently. He had this weird machismo about him, that turned fear into confidence with near break-neck speed. One of those weird guy things. " And we're gonna win. Ya' hear me, Ame? " He said, before letting his arms loosen his tight hold on her, and resting his hands on her hips. Ame had such nice curves to her body, as if they mimicked the curling pattern a snake took when it was about to strike. It was beautiful, to say the least. " I love ya', Ame. "
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 12:40 pm
•• ᎪᎷᎪᎢᎬᎡᎪᏚᏌ ᎻᎪᏚᎾ₦ ••
✘вιтcн qυєєи oғ кαяαкυяα ✘
"Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin -- more even than death.... Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habit. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man."
_______________________________________________________________________ Amaterasu shook her blonde head of hair at his statement. "I will allow you your fear, but not in my presence," the woman placed her head against his chest, breathing in the warmth of him. As a wife, and a woman as well, she had to protect her husband's ego, she had to promote his self esteem, she had to keep him from doubting himself, from being weak, from falling apart. Emotions were for women, and weak men and by no means was Dorobo a weak man. "I will certainly make you leave my bed if so," the wife hissed the threat, the venom seething in her words. Amaterasu was not a woman to associate herself with weakness, especially if the man she loves possessed the trait. There were no need for frailty in the worlds, other than to step on and trample for those who are made to strive for greatness.
When Dorobo expressed her fear of her safety, Amaterasu couldn't help the slight smile creeping upon her lips. Certainly, he was under her spell; surely, he has found himself captivated by the snake, while she found herself falling for the reckless brute of fire. Her darling Dorobo, sweet and ever so cautious of her safety. "Do not worry, my love. I can protect myself," An affectionate hand was placed upon his face, a tender look upon the woman's own visage.
Amaterasu had changed for the better, the more years she spent with Dorobo, the more she changed. This is dully noted by the woman. She didn't care.
"Stop being so sappy and get back to work," The blonde quickly changed the subject. Amaterasu didn't like it when Dorobo used mushy gushy feelings to tell her things; things that should only remain in the privacy of their bedroom, comforted by each others' presence. "I guess I love you too," the woman could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks. Oh dear, how he stirred her feelings so.
_______________________________________________________________________
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Posted: Sun Jan 06, 2013 12:03 am
•Dorobo Hason•
Owner of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace Dorobo wasn't dumb. He picked up really quickly on the whole Machismo thing Amaterasu was trying to get by. She simply couldn't stand weakness; it was what originally attracted her towards Dorobo in the first place. The strength he exuded with every breath, the act of simply being still, and appearing strong, that pulled her in magnetically. " You couldn't do without my warmth in that bed. A space heater couldn't warm your blood like I do. " Dorobo teased, with a smirk.
Dorobo smiled warmly with her words, even going so far as to place his own hand over hers on his own face. He had thought about it a minute ago, but the thought ran through his head again. This woman was his bane, the one being that could take him apart. It wasn't a power thing either. It was all feeling, which the man of fire more than accepted in himself. He accepted the influence she had on his heart, and smiled more at the thought. He didn't say anything, he simply looked down to the short and cold wife of his. She sure was beautiful.
" Yea, we probably should get back to work. Who knows what that b*****d Iwagakure has gotten into. " Dorobo said, casting a glance back to the front of the shop. Dorob turned back, and smiled at the woman, before turning to walk off. He heard a mumble as he turned the corner, and the smile transfigured from something cute into a smirk. He shouted back before he entered the front of the shop. " I heard that, b***h! Don't you go gettin' soft on me! " He gave a huge chuckle, which Ame could hear all the way from the back of the shop.
Dorobo moved the curtain to the front aside, seeing another group of customers arrive. " Who the hell eats sushi at such an early time? " Dorobo thought to himself, shaking his head lightly. The thought confounded him; raw fish as the first meal. Sure, his sushi was amazing. But was it that good? Holy crap. Dorobo's good eye scanned the room for Iwagakure, and found him cutting up the fish. A quick glance said he was actually doing pretty damn well too. Dorobo smiled, proud of the man for a moment. He made his way over to his cushion, before planting himself beside Iwagakure. Instead of joining him, Dorobo let the protege do the workload for now. The man reached into his vest, and pulled out a long, and partially smoked cigar. The smoking stipulations didn't apply to small, family owned businesses such as this one, so Dorobo was allowed to smoke within the building, just as the customers were. He pulled a long match out as well, before smirking, and lighting it against his eyepatch. A few puffs, and the cigar had a nice glow to it. He leaned back, keeping his good eye on Iwagakure for any mess ups.
" Baka! " the shout rang through the house, as Iwagakure mad one cut uneven. Dorobo was a harsh teacher, and even one mistake in one hundred meant wasted supplies. " Even! Must be even! " He shouted at the boy, while his cigar hung from his mouth.
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Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2013 8:29 pm
•• ᎪᎷᎪᎢᎬᎡᎪᏚᏌ ᎻᎪᏚᎾ₦ ••
✘вιтcн qυєєи oғ кαяαкυяα ✘
"Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin -- more even than death.... Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habit. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man."
_______________________________________________________________________ Amaterasu gave her husband a smirk. The man was underestimating her once again, as if she could not survive without his mere existence. Of course, his warmth was befitting her corpse cold of a body; however, easily, she could find another man and just steal his warmth, leech off of it until he was just as cold as her. She would surround him in her serpent like chill, she would take him as her prey, she would bask in all of his attention, and find a man as soon as her nasty deed was done. A succubus of heat, they called her, and so did Dorobo. No one could resist a serpentine beauty like hers for long, certainly they will fall in the sparkle of her eyes; the same eyes that glare luridly if provoked. Her enticing walk, her snarky talk, her malignant presence all together was mollified, diluted, palliated by the man of healing fire. She has changed, for better or worse, it didn't matter for the time being.
"You can work. I'll supervise," Amaterasu winked at the man, who most obviously would not see the gesture. His back was turned on Amaterasu as he reverted to his daily nothings, working and the like. Selling his sushi, not at all mediocre, yet still had a ways to go. Of course, the woman wouldn't convey her opinions to her husband who has spend hundreds of years trying to perfect his own sushi creations, rather, she'll just keep it to herself -- that is until they argue, then may the most venomous strike to the heart win.
It was a surprise how Dorobo never wondered why his clientele consisted mostly of men: young, old, fat, skinny, business, drunkard, pervert and their kin, but really mostly men. It was not because of the ambiance; their neighborhood was quite the antithesis of a hotspot, save the sushi bars and kareoke facilities, like the block was made specifically with the drunks in mind and their female counterparts who scavenged for men much younger than they. It was quite a feat watching plastic women hound up the young men, buying drinks after drinks for both. All pathetic actually. But, it was those raggedly, saggy boobed hags that made Dorobo's sushi bar such a commodity. Past costumers rave over his young wife, a foreigner: blonde hair, blue eyes, the works.
"Calm down, darling. You are lucky the boy even wants to serve beneath you," scoffed she. "If I were Iwagakure, I would have already resigned to move on with my life away from a tyrannical boss man." Amaterasu closed the distance between her and her husband, placing a concerned hand on his shoulder. She squeezed lightly before moving on to the front of the store where the patrons and novels lurked eating their sushi, and drinking their sake as if they didn't concern themselves with time.
Some of the regulars turned their heads at their female monarch, the b***h queen, no duh, and gave her nods as she passed by them in a flutter of blue and gold. Who would be entertained by the lady today? Some lucky table in the back where some old men gathered, probably running away from their old wives. "You haven't aged a day, Amaterasu," the men remarked and she would greet them with a smile no less. How many years will she out live these men? How many of their lifetimes old is she?
" Oh, you. You are teasing me." The blonde sat at a vacant seat beside the men as they chattered her ear off about their ventures of old age, analogies of things she cared nothing about, and how they wished their wives were as young and supple as she; all while Amaterasu made them spend their money until they were all dry. Her contribution to her husband's practice, always to his dismay, helped with tips and profit at the cheap prices he sold their sushi and sake. Her simple flirting at the gawking guests funded their little business, and Dorobo could not possibly give himself credit for that.
Amaterasu glanced at Dorobo from her peripheral vision, he was still too busy with the boy to pay her mind. If she left, would he notice? Probably not. How many times had she left without him even knowing a thing? Or did he notice, but paid her no mind whatsoever.
"Dorobo, these men need another round of drinks," The blonde waved her hand in the air, catching the man's attention, and sooner or later bring the drinks to their respective new livers. Well, the b***h queen certainly didn't b***h today, a whisper from a customer. 'taint even started yet, whispers another. They spoke in Japanese, as if they believed that Amaterasu did not know the basic words and disses. Not yet, she sighed to herself. The drama has not even started yet.
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Posted: Tue Jan 22, 2013 6:01 am
•Dorobo Hason•
Owner of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace Dorobo puffed lightly on his lit cigar, and frowned over Iwagakure's shoulder. He was cutting the seaweed much more even now that Dorobo had his good eye set on the boy's work. Amaterasu's shoulder squeeze made him turn his head, before spitting out a reply from between his clamped teeth. " It's god damned negative reinforcement, woman. He's gonna deal with it if he wants to get paid as well as he does. " For a little apprentice sushi maker Iwagakure made freaking bank with the pay Dorobo handed to him at the end of every week. The boy was more than happy to deal with the yelling if it meant the knowledge of Dorobo's great ******** sushi, and get paid well for it too.
Dorobo's eye followed his wife, and he immediately began frowning, and hard. He averted his gaze from where she sat down among the human men, and instead turned to the large case of sake he had brought from outside. He took a small cup, poured swiftly, and downed the still-lukewarm drink with one go.
God dammit, she did this at least once a day. She waltzed her fine a** over to the goddamned old men, and talked with her usual accent. Oh, how they freaking fawned over her, like flies to a piece of s**t. She said that she did it to keep them coming back, and usually kissed Dorobo lovingly on the cheek whenever he called her out. Se told him not to worry about it, all that jazz.
Dorobo knew she liked to watch him squirm in jealous anger, and watch as he figured out he couldn't do s**t about it. He saw the way her eyes would glint, whenever she looked over to him. She was the snake, and he her prey. She enjoyed this emotional bullying thing, and Dorobo merely put up with it, giving himself promises about ******** her hard later that night, or something of the sort to make himself feel better than he did. The shinigami made another cup for himself, and once again, downed the warm drink with one go. He didn't even wince as the drink but into his throat with it's warmed alcohol touch.
When he heard her call out, the bottle he held in his hand began to steam lightly. His anger at the moment made the heat around him, focused through his palms, rise up exponentially. He set the sake down before it became to obvious, and to save it from the weird taste it acquired after changing temperatures too many times. He grumbled deep in his throat, refusing to answer his wife for a while. The jealousy would have made him yell loud enough to break down the house, and he couldn't have that. Not again, bro.
He calmed a little, and shoved a stopper into the top of the Sake jar. It wa still warm from his touch, and as he picked it up again, it began to steam from where the cork had dry rotted. " You can serve 'em as well as I can, wench. Ya' better catch!" he gave a single warning, before hefting the bottle towards the woman. She had enough reflexes to catch the hot bottle no problem, and the customers would just applaud her some more if she caught it.
Dorobo wasn't having any of her s**t, and he sullenly crossed his arms before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. It was fragrant, and from where he had been sitting for the last while, the smoke had begun to spread out throughout the large room. The sharp smell of coffee flavored tobacco smoke assailed the nostrils of the people within the shop, yet over the long time coming here, they had grown used to the strength and thickness of the smoke. It hardly bothered them anymore. Dorobo puffed furiously on the end of his cigar, blowing billowing clouds of smoke." Don't you dare drop that s**t either! That's my lucky sake vase! "
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Posted: Wed Jan 23, 2013 7:37 pm
•• ᎪᎷᎪᎢᎬᎡᎪᏚᏌ ᎻᎪᏚᎾ₦ ••
✘вιтcн qυєєи oғ кαяαкυяα ✘
"Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin -- more even than death.... Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habit. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man."
_______________________________________________________________________ "It's kinda weird really," an old man from the table of prunes started, his eyes squinting at the foreigner before him, and squinting hard as if he had fallen hard out of her spell. "You really have not aged a day, Amaterasu-san," he finished, holding an empty sake cup in his frail, wrinkly hand. There is always a back story to things, and this man had evidence for his accusation; see, forty years ago, when he was only a young lad in his late twenties, he entered the same restaurant and was owned by the same host, Dorobo and the trainee did the work, different from Iwagakure, but Dorobo was clearly the same. In his mind, he also glimpsed and was catered to by Amaterasu like now, deja vu, right? However, he was the only one who aged. The host and hostess did not age at all, they looked the same as they did so long ago. Did anyone else wonder that or was he just paranoid and in denial of his age?
"Have you had too much sake?"The blonde questioned in disbelief, as if it was the most preposterous thing she had ever heard. Amaterasu was well versed in the skepticism of returning customers and she knew how to deal with it: just dust it off as if it never happened. If she believed they were crazy, they would believe they were crazy. That was how it was, and has always been. The woman laughed it off and so did the other men.
As if on cue, Dorobo responded to the sake she requested eons ago, although, he didn't deliver it to her as she planned, rather, he threw it into the air for her to catch. The b*****d! Amaterasu cursed her husband as she barely caught the bottle in her arms. She actually had to stretch out and grab it, as his throw was a little short from where she actually was. The woman cradled the warm bottle to her chest, and gave a sigh of relief, most of the men clapped while the others, too drunk to noticed mumbled beneath their breaths. She caught it, surprisingly. Amaterasu's reaction time varied physically and mentally, while her mind could make plans at the drop of a hat, her reflexes were quite slow. Dorobo knew this, and he has known it for as long as they have acquainted themselves with one another, whether it was in battle or in the sweet agony of coitus.
"Here you go," Amaterasu poured the sake into the men's cups: the steam rose inconspicuously, but it was unnaturally hot and the woman knew that this was her husband's doing in his silent jealousy. Of course, Dorobo sought for revenge, but he never got it because Amaterasu used her charm to make him back down from his own wanton actions. A harsh grab here, a tear there, all nothing because the blonde would push her own wants into the mix and they end up doing things her way.
With an innocent giggle, the woman watched as each of the men took their own drinks and downed them, tasting the sting of alcohol, the sting of the heat. She could see their eyes clouding over as the beverage did its job, and quite thoroughly too. She got no more questions nor accusations, even after they left in their drunken stupors.
Amaterasu stood from her spot and walked to her husband, a smidge of triumph on her face. "I got accused of being immortal today," the woman started, standing beside him and feeling the heat his body emanated. He was still jealous and smoking like crazy. She took the cigar from his mouth, and replaced his recreational tobacco with her kiss, just as addictive as any drug. He was hesitant to accept it, but she didn't need his approval to do things; simply, the woman brought Dorobo down to her level and kissed him deeply, the taste of nicotine on her tongue.
"Are you still mad?" She asked, pulling herself apart from him. "If you are, I'll make it up to you," a smile played upon her lips, and she was actually quite excited about what she was about to suggest. "Next time the shop is not so busy, we shall go on a date, just you and I. It will be wonderful."
----------------------
It has been two weeks since Amaterasu made their promised date with her husband, a much needed one too. They have been busy, well, the men have been busy while she supervised as always. Especially the previous day, it was crazy all the drunks and cougars in the sushi parlor. Most had to wait, but what caused the influx, she knew nothing of nor did she want to know.
But today, it was calm enough to not even open the shop. The woman forced Dorobo to send Iwagakure home while the two got ready for a whole day out and the like. Dorobo, while he did not show it, was quite excited, and even went out and bought her a dress, a tasteful one too: it was a deep navy color, skin tight and covered her neck and her arms with a twist on the back as there was a large cutoff which plunged just a few inches above her buttocks. Amaterasu adored it the moment she saw it; however, when she donned the dress, she did not approve of the length. It was quite short for her taste, but she wore it anyway, even if it showed her knees. The woman paired it with a pair of stilettos with a decent height of five inches. Her blonde hair was tied into a messy bun at her nape, some stray curls escaped the hair tie's grasp and framed her face nicely.
"Well, I'm ready," The blonde stated applying a light dab of lipstick atop her lips. Her makeup was quite natural: just a light dab of blush upon her cheeks, mascara on her lashes and a translucent powder applied on her face. "Are you ready, Dorobo?" Amaterasu yelled from upstairs and making her way down to greet her husband.
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Posted: Thu Jan 24, 2013 5:19 am
•Dorobo Hason•
Owner of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace he was surprised she had managed to catch it with such an off hand grip. She had the ability to go and say, I want to catch that, but hell, no one's reflexes could keep up with how Ame's mind made those quick, half second decisions. He shrugged lightly, and turned away from the counter, and stood up.
A hand tentatively reached out to touch one of the boards on the wall as he overheard a snippet of conversation. " You haven't aged a day... " crooned some old b*****d. Since the duo had come to Karakura, all those years ago, they hadn't changed at all. They were stuck in the bodies they wore, and watched as everyone around them grew old; turning into wrinkled fools that couldn't hold their own bladders. Dorobo rubbed his hand down the worn wood of his beloved shop. It would be the shops one hundred and seventieth anniversary soon; very very soon. " How long have you stood strong? " Dorobo mused to himself.
Before he realized it, Ame was upon him. Her quick hands tugged the fat log of tobacco from his clamped teeth, and replaced it with her lips. He turned his head away slightly with a grunt of dissatisfaction. Dorobo hated this bullshit. She thought she could make it better with a few kisses. Uh uh. He was about to open his moth and say something, but she tugged him down and forced him into a damned deep kiss. He could taste the smoke on her, and smirked against himself. An arm wrapped around her waist, before hefting the woman up. " Yeah, yeah. Better be a damned good date, woman, or it'll be yer a**. "
----
Dorobo looked up from his seat, after having heard the shout from his wife. It was their date night, and Dorobo hadn't even opened the shop for an hour n this day. It was dedicated to sleeping in, enjoying themselves a little bit, and then getting ready for the date. Dorobo was so excited that he had made a steam room of the bathroom when he tried to shower, and barely hid the hot mess from his wife when she tried to join him in there. It didn't help the steaming problem much.
" Gimme a second, damn! " The shinigami shouted up the stairs. There was a small mirror in front of him, and he sat cross legged in in a suit, minus the blazer. The arms were rolled up on his lucky, mint green shirt, and the vest had been replaced with a Neat little black number that wrapped around his chest just right if he were to button it up. Dorobo had a bib over all of this, and he held a straight razor to his face. Slowly, the man lifted the blade up in a sweeping arc, cutting more hair from the growing mess that would have been his face. It was a slow process, but Dorobo was a traditionalist. The danger was exciting too.
He heard Ame clomp down the stairs in her heels, and inclined his head towards him as he finished another swipe. He caught a glimpse of her body in the dress as she came down, and smiled inwardly. She looked damn gorgeous in that dress. While most say men don't know their fashion, Dorobo knew what looked good on his wife. Which was practically everything, but the point still stands.
" Git my neck fer me. " he half ordered her, before brandishing the straight razor her way. Now, that had to be some level of trust Dorobo had for this woman! I mean, who the hell would let her of all people around their necks with a straight razor? Dorobo was either a fool in love, or her really didn't think she would kill him.
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Posted: Thu Jan 24, 2013 9:47 pm
•• ᎪᎷᎪᎢᎬᎡᎪᏚᏌ ᎻᎪᏚᎾ₦ ••
✘вιтcн qυєєи oғ кαяαкυяα ✘
"Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin -- more even than death.... Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habit. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man."
_______________________________________________________________________ Amaterasu arrived downstairs looking as fabulous as she did upstairs. With a click of her tongue, she neared her almost ready husband, who was in the middle of shaving. Shaving is a must, if a man must involve himself with Amaterasu; there was something about a fresh shaven face that just made her giddy with excitement, whether it was the feel of soft skin or the fact that men were subservient to her, it really just made her happy. However, the woman wore a frown on her face for the moment. He was supposed to be the man, the one who was supposed to be ready hours before she could even get herself dressed or whatnot. Dorobo was not supposed to be the one dallying.
"Babe, I told you to shave yesterday," spoke the woman in her usual sultry tone. Her husband was now looking at her, well, more like gawking as if he had never seen her appear before him, as if they were strangers and he just glimpsed the one whom he would spend an eternity with. He looked quite pleased at his selection of her dress, and she at her own outfit choice for him. They dressed each other, was that weird? Then again, it mattered not, they were already wayward as wayward goes.
Dorobo requested she do the rest of the shaving. Did he have a death wish? One angry Amaterasu would create a large flow of arterial blood gushing from his carotid artery. The woman could not be trusted with sharp objects such as the razor, especially a traditional razor with no safety measures like the modern ones for the pussies these days. "Are you offering me your neck?" The blonde asked, kneeling down behind her squatting husband.
The heat was pulsating from his body in tendrils of warmth. Amaterasu took the razor from his hand and grasped it in hers. Dorobo had a thing for the thrill; he liked the adrenaline rush, the surge of energy, the deluge of fire--which was why he was a kink with kitschy taste in anything, really, for example, sex, his way of life, etc. "You do know if my hand slips, you could die," a giggle left her lips as if warning, or threatening for the looming danger of having a woman such as she do the shaving.
Amaterasu lifted her husband's head: while he looked up at her, she looked down. She held eye contact for a moment, just for the hell of it, and looked away, starting the process of shaving. The woman started the removal of the stubble, starting from the bottom and slowly making her way to the chin in straight, yet gentle motions. She held the straight razor with delicate pressure, not too hard and not too gentle; it had to be just right to keep the skin from peeling along with the hairs.
Being the ex-captain of squad twelve, Amaterasu is well versed in the ways of a razor blade. It was her friend during the plethora of science experiments which she prided herself upon during her time in the Soul Society. Skinning, tearing, cutting, while the words have negative connotation to others, to the woman they were her expertise. Her hands were skilled and her mind adept. Dissections and science were already implanted in her brain, they were innate, they were her primal instincts.
Yet, she couldn't help but feel the tension rising from just shaving her husband's neck; the fragile area which connected so many nerves, and the like. A part of the nervous system, and cardiac, and it would be a disaster if fatality struck. Amaterasu would be left a widow with no legacy to carry on, and no offspring to bear. Boo hoo. It wasn't like this was the first time she has done it; however, it was probably the excitement she felt that dulled her mind from working correctly.
Either way, Amaterasu was almost done. Neat and hairless was the neck of Dorobo Hason with one more line of annoying little hairs to go. "Done," said she with a hint of happiness in her voice now that the mental torture was over. Being a perfectionist did not do her justice, but at least his face was hair free now.
"Since you have made us a few minutes late with your tarrying, you get to plan out what to do before dinner," The blonde picked herself off of the floor and reacquainted herself with her heels.
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Posted: Fri Jan 25, 2013 6:02 am
•Dorobo Hason•
Owner of Suupaa 8 Sushi Palace " Yea, I am woman. " Dorobo said with a throaty growl to his voice. She took the razor from his hand, and he felt her front press against his back. His eyes widened with the feeling. She was so cold, as compared to him. He burst at the seems with some sort of inner fire that refused to ever be put out. But she, Amaterasu, was freezing. Where her skin ran against his, the thin layers of clothing separating them by millimeters, Dorobo felt his heat being pulled into her. She was a vacuum, a void, an epicenter of cold that contrasted with everything he was.
And he let this woman shave his neck with a straight razor. It was a simple piece of metal; the same one he had gotten back in Soul Society. The wood handle had three distinct marks on it, burnt into the simple wood at different intervals, and each for different reasons. Dorobo opened his eye, and looked up to his wife's fair face. Each damned time he looked at her, he was once again blown away by just how damn hot she was! What was a woman like that doing with a guy like him? Sure, he was handsome and great in the sack but... She could have any freaking guy. That espada king dude, whatever his name ******** was now, would probably accept her instead of turning the fine shinigami piece of a** away. Once again, the question popped into his disheveled mind. Why was she with him?
Her eyes spoke of droves of seriousness, and Dorobo sat there in some weird excitement, brought on by the thrill of death. If he were to ever die, why shouldn't it be by the hands of this woman? She had earned it, being married to him for so long. When Dorobo looked into those eyes, those gorgeous orbs of blue, he saw her excitement. Ame was just as excited as he was, and she was getting off on this thrill too! Dorobo barely held back a laugh. This had to be the peak of their weirdness, right? A man letting a murderous scientist of a wife near his neck? It was many a time that Amaterasu had threatened the healer with finding out exactly what made his body so hot. She would kill him, then disect him or whatever to find out where all that heat came from, and what made it possible for a body to withstand temperatures exceeding possibly triple the normal human body temperature.
Dorobo smiled with the thought. If she was going to kill him, she would have done it by now, instead of wasting years of her life working in a little shop, with a beautiful set of rooms in the above ground floor. She wouldn't have spent years trying on new clothes her husband bought, or griping over the latest piece of jewelry she would show off on their dates. She loved him, sure enough.
With each gentle pull and tug of the sharp blade against his flesh, Dorobo felt a bit of desire well up In his chest. The second Amaterasu said the word done, and pulled the blade away, Dorobo turned around, and pushed up onto his feet. He stood up, and wrapped an arm around the woman's waist." At least I didn't tak'n hour ta put on some flimsy dress. " Dorobo let his hand fall slowly down her backside, before taking a nice grip again. " It looks good on ya though. "
Dorobo smirked, before pulling Ame gently along with him. They exited the shop, with Dorobo's hand still tight on her rump. They came to the car, which was parked a little ways away from the shop. It looked so unassuming, the little green bug. Dorobo was kind enough to open the door for Amaterasu, before going to his own side, climbing in, and turning on the old thing. Dorobo's bright green eye focused on Ame as soon as he got in the car, and after he started it, a warm hand rested on her thigh. " I got reservations in like half an hour. I knew yewd take forever ta get this little number on. " Dorobo smirked as he pulled out of the space, and began driving. All the while, he kept a Hanson his wife's thigh, as if reassuring himself that she was there. She was real, or something like that.
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Posted: Fri Jan 25, 2013 8:48 pm
•• ᎪᎷᎪᎢᎬᎡᎪᏚᏌ ᎻᎪᏚᎾ₦ ••
✘вιтcн qυєєи oғ кαяαкυяα ✘
"Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin -- more even than death.... Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habit. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man."
_______________________________________________________________________ "It would be easier to take it off," Amaterasu gave a laugh, knowing exactly where the dress would be hours from now: out of sight, out of mind, right? It seemed Dorobo caught on to the light, airy attitude of his wife and quickly responded to it by grabbing some a**. He couldn't have her just yet, there had to be some semblance of delicacy in their relationship rather than a hump and dump.
Her husband didn't need to work as hard to acquire her love as he did centuries before. He tried so hard to court her. So ******** hard that she couldn't help but play with his feelings, watch as his jealousy flare whenever she turned into the company of a human male rather than he. Dorobo would be angry and the heat would burn, like how it would in Hell. But in the end, their relationship flourished; however she couldn't remember how it started, Amaterasu knew that their story would never end--'til death do them part. Being what they are, it seemed every time a new adversary showed up in their midst, the woman would hope her husband did not involve himself with them, or death really will tear them apart. As much as she loved her darling, she could never sacrifice her own life when he lost his like a fool in battle. Never.
Another giggle erupted from her person, as Dorobo held her close finally dumping his Japanese and speaking her native tongue with just as much gusto. "I'm glad you like it," Amaterasu looked up at him, blue eyes sparkling and shining, "a man who is quite smitten with me bought it for me." The blonde placed the razor on the closest piece of furniture and turned her attention back to her man. She could tell that he was quite pleased with his selection of dress by the way he smirked.
"It was not forever. You are over exaggerating things, darling," chimed the woman as she was being pulled along by the man. He kept a tight hold on her, until they got to the car when he finally had to let go of her to open the door, as it was gentlemanly to do so. In a hastened manner, Amaterasu entered the car and sat on the leather seat, letting the cold settle into her icy skin.
Throughout the drive to her favorite Italian restaurant, she deduced by the look on Dorobo's face, his hand was outstretched and found its way on her thigh, where it stayed. To reassure her husband, the blonde placed her own hand above his, squeezing lightly.
Once at the restaurant parking lot and after Dorobo parked, the couple stepped out of the vehicle, quickly finding each others' hands with a passing moment, but Amaterasu broke the bond by returning to the car to fetch her coat. Dorobo was a little ways in front of her, waiting as she carefully stepped across the uneven path between them. The lot's asphalt roads were old, hole ridden after years of erosion and poor maintenance. "They really need to--" started Amaterasu to her husband, but she never finished her sentence as the woman quickly felt the ground beneath her crumble. Oh wait, no, her legs were the ones that crumbled.
Everything was blank for a second as the woman tried to settle her thoughts, as she was going through the notions in her head of the cause, a sharp pain hollered to her brain that the blonde's right ankle was hurt, not to mention the burning sensation of the few scrapes on her knees. "What the hell.." Amaterasu cursed beneath her breath as she touched the ankle and all of its pain. She was always so vigilant with her movements, how could she be so clumsy now? Her heel was the culprit! The five inch heel was ensnared in the jaws of the merciless broken ground, which wanted fresh blood, and obtained it from a very unlikely woman.
Before long, Amaterasu realized that she was still on the ground, and quickly pulled herself up, trying to resist the urge to holler from the shock her ankle sent through her nerves. Surely, she twisted it. She had to put on a brave face nonetheless for Dorobo, right? It wasn't her night, nor was it his night. It was theirs, and solely that. No one else but the waiter would interfere, just like always... Now, that could not come to fruition with her ankle screaming in agony. Would he notice if she winced? Even a little bit? Of course he would, he was the one who healed people as his job in their past life. ******** it.
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