This calls for hazard-pay (Active/Open)
Character(s): Uchiha Fugaku, and anyone else who feels like showing up
Content: intro post. Fugaku is not happy at all.
Setting: Nifleheim gate
Time: evening
Warnings: Fugaku is suffering from blood-loss and coming off a Soldier-Pill high. He’s not in a good mood. Language, possible violence and destruction of property
Fugaku was betting that someone on the mission-staff hated him a great deal. In fact, he’d placed ten ryou on the line, and that had been six hours ago, when the assignment had still been A-Rank and a safe distance away from any wandering Iwa-nin. Just slice and dice job, kill a man whose death was vital to the continued existence of dear old Konoha, and bring his head back in a brown leather bag, and oh yes, on a side note, try to come back. Preferably in one piece, but that was negotiable, as A-Ranks tended to be.
That had been six hours ago, and before the squad nearly twice their size, and all jounin-rank at least, because their luck just fucking sucked. Life hated them today, and was making a grand attempt to send them home in bodybags. Uchiha Fugaku didn’t want that, for himself or any of his chuunin teammates, even if they were little brats three years younger and a hell of a lot stupider than him. They were teammates, and he was the Captain, and when that was your job, you got everyone home alive.
He’d taken a blow to the head and a kunai to the side, and then Fugaku had been fucking stupid blacked out. When he’d come to, the scenery was very different, and no one was attempting to decapitate, crush, or otherwise kill him. For about ten seconds, it was very nice. Then he remembered his team, and swore violently, even as he jumped up, eyes activated and scanning for danger. Heart-rate was too high, and damnit, Fugaku knew the adrenaline was going fast, and he’d be crashing soon. Couldn’t do that. Couldn’t, couldn’t, had to…do something
What was he supposed to do?
Find the team. Kill the Iwa-jounin before they turned his team into chunks of meat. Right. He could do that. Easy. Kill the jounin, all fucking six of them. Angry jounin. Had to kill them…
The gate was unexpected, and unwelcome as well. No team. No Iwa to kill, either. Fugaku glared, didn’t give his name when requested, and took the…journal. Thing. Whatever.
He stood, nearly bouncing on his heels, breathing too fast, and bleeding out in the ribs. He yanked the kunai out, blinking at it for a moment, and not-noticing how much blood he was loosing. Good steel. Nice balance. He’d kill someone with it.
Content: intro post. Fugaku is not happy at all.
Setting: Nifleheim gate
Time: evening
Warnings: Fugaku is suffering from blood-loss and coming off a Soldier-Pill high. He’s not in a good mood. Language, possible violence and destruction of property
Fugaku was betting that someone on the mission-staff hated him a great deal. In fact, he’d placed ten ryou on the line, and that had been six hours ago, when the assignment had still been A-Rank and a safe distance away from any wandering Iwa-nin. Just slice and dice job, kill a man whose death was vital to the continued existence of dear old Konoha, and bring his head back in a brown leather bag, and oh yes, on a side note, try to come back. Preferably in one piece, but that was negotiable, as A-Ranks tended to be.
That had been six hours ago, and before the squad nearly twice their size, and all jounin-rank at least, because their luck just fucking sucked. Life hated them today, and was making a grand attempt to send them home in bodybags. Uchiha Fugaku didn’t want that, for himself or any of his chuunin teammates, even if they were little brats three years younger and a hell of a lot stupider than him. They were teammates, and he was the Captain, and when that was your job, you got everyone home alive.
He’d taken a blow to the head and a kunai to the side, and then Fugaku had been fucking stupid blacked out. When he’d come to, the scenery was very different, and no one was attempting to decapitate, crush, or otherwise kill him. For about ten seconds, it was very nice. Then he remembered his team, and swore violently, even as he jumped up, eyes activated and scanning for danger. Heart-rate was too high, and damnit, Fugaku knew the adrenaline was going fast, and he’d be crashing soon. Couldn’t do that. Couldn’t, couldn’t, had to…do something
What was he supposed to do?
Find the team. Kill the Iwa-jounin before they turned his team into chunks of meat. Right. He could do that. Easy. Kill the jounin, all fucking six of them. Angry jounin. Had to kill them…
The gate was unexpected, and unwelcome as well. No team. No Iwa to kill, either. Fugaku glared, didn’t give his name when requested, and took the…journal. Thing. Whatever.
He stood, nearly bouncing on his heels, breathing too fast, and bleeding out in the ribs. He yanked the kunai out, blinking at it for a moment, and not-noticing how much blood he was loosing. Good steel. Nice balance. He’d kill someone with it.