[Thread]
Who: Kazama & Itachi
Where: Some hellhole complex in Abyss
When: Now, probably?
Summary: Just...Kazama finding Itachi and shit?
Rating: idk pg-13
Other: no
To be stripped of rights was just another say of saying that Itachi was nothing but trash. Of course, he would not object to such simple idealism, he would not fight again it either. One could easily say that the Uchiha had deserve it; the destruction of his own clan along with starting one of the largest criminal organizations in Elysium - not of his free will - and of course, betraying his mentor. The latter had dire consequences, and lowly he could only let out a low exhale akin to that of a self-mocking laugh at each time he thought of the affair that caused himself to be turned from the inside out. But he had died - either way -- and his only regret was letting his own wife and kouhai witness it. And to be reduced to such a petty display, stripped away of all humanity.
His sluggish movements led him to the most dangerous part of the Abyss -- crawling with abnormalities and oddities, mutants and whores with disfigurements that were too grotesque for those in the streets to witness. The cloak that was worn over his shoulders was smudged with dirt; red fading to a dark gray and had the thick rich scent of grime and blood. The sword in his hand was hidden underneath the sleeve of his robe. Hair a tied up mess, though there seemed to be no flaw in his appearance.
Once in a while, a few other mutants would make themselves visible to the Uchiha’s path, recognizing him as the leader of the Akatsuki and mutter uselessly about how much he would be worth, and his cold dead dark gray eyes would show absolutely nothing, and swiftly he would eliminate them with no thought before making his steps back to the apartment in which he claimed. After the array of blood that had wetted the ground, Itachi walked through the decayed doorway of a ruined building. And his sluggish carelessly movements would take him up the stairs to his room. His head lowered as his steps were followed by the faint droplets of blood and the door was shoved open. The sword was dropped, and he sat against the wall. One knee drawn up to his chest and head lowered only to succumb to a state of a half-daze with shallow breathing; relaxation for a moment before heading off to a new area.
Where: Some hellhole complex in Abyss
When: Now, probably?
Summary: Just...Kazama finding Itachi and shit?
Rating: idk pg-13
Other: no
To be stripped of rights was just another say of saying that Itachi was nothing but trash. Of course, he would not object to such simple idealism, he would not fight again it either. One could easily say that the Uchiha had deserve it; the destruction of his own clan along with starting one of the largest criminal organizations in Elysium - not of his free will - and of course, betraying his mentor. The latter had dire consequences, and lowly he could only let out a low exhale akin to that of a self-mocking laugh at each time he thought of the affair that caused himself to be turned from the inside out. But he had died - either way -- and his only regret was letting his own wife and kouhai witness it. And to be reduced to such a petty display, stripped away of all humanity.
His sluggish movements led him to the most dangerous part of the Abyss -- crawling with abnormalities and oddities, mutants and whores with disfigurements that were too grotesque for those in the streets to witness. The cloak that was worn over his shoulders was smudged with dirt; red fading to a dark gray and had the thick rich scent of grime and blood. The sword in his hand was hidden underneath the sleeve of his robe. Hair a tied up mess, though there seemed to be no flaw in his appearance.
Once in a while, a few other mutants would make themselves visible to the Uchiha’s path, recognizing him as the leader of the Akatsuki and mutter uselessly about how much he would be worth, and his cold dead dark gray eyes would show absolutely nothing, and swiftly he would eliminate them with no thought before making his steps back to the apartment in which he claimed. After the array of blood that had wetted the ground, Itachi walked through the decayed doorway of a ruined building. And his sluggish carelessly movements would take him up the stairs to his room. His head lowered as his steps were followed by the faint droplets of blood and the door was shoved open. The sword was dropped, and he sat against the wall. One knee drawn up to his chest and head lowered only to succumb to a state of a half-daze with shallow breathing; relaxation for a moment before heading off to a new area.