[closed]
Who: Deidara & Itachi
When: Backdated. After this entry.
Where: Starting from outside the ruins
Format: Paragraph
What: Testing the mists
Warnings: Language?
Naturally, it feels different. A mission (sort of) between himself and Itachi. Deidara isn't quite sure how to settle the weight of that within himself, which way to lean it against himself. Itachi, Uchiha Itachi, an enigma and a colleague, in equal amounts, perhaps. Deidara knows he should step carefully around this man, but finds it rather impossible by now, too late by half a decade.
Agreeing to a mission like this was probably foolish considering the fact that Itachi was threatening him only few weeks prior. It doesn't matter. Danger just makes it more interesting.
He doesn't have much with him, just the bare necessities (weapons, clay, his Forge) as he tracks his path through the city to the edges of the ruins. Perhaps it is the sliver of nervousness he feels, but he is there long before Itachi, and forced to spend his time just sitting on a crumbled piece of brick fence. Wearing all black, simple shirt, pants that are tied from knee to ankle, he would easily just melt into the background, assuming he didn't have that hair, like a flame of a pale sun. He smokes quietly, a cigarette he stole from Sasori's pack just before leaving, the scent now settling his nerves almost as easily as the presence of the red-haired shinobi.
When: Backdated. After this entry.
Where: Starting from outside the ruins
Format: Paragraph
What: Testing the mists
Warnings: Language?
Naturally, it feels different. A mission (sort of) between himself and Itachi. Deidara isn't quite sure how to settle the weight of that within himself, which way to lean it against himself. Itachi, Uchiha Itachi, an enigma and a colleague, in equal amounts, perhaps. Deidara knows he should step carefully around this man, but finds it rather impossible by now, too late by half a decade.
Agreeing to a mission like this was probably foolish considering the fact that Itachi was threatening him only few weeks prior. It doesn't matter. Danger just makes it more interesting.
He doesn't have much with him, just the bare necessities (weapons, clay, his Forge) as he tracks his path through the city to the edges of the ruins. Perhaps it is the sliver of nervousness he feels, but he is there long before Itachi, and forced to spend his time just sitting on a crumbled piece of brick fence. Wearing all black, simple shirt, pants that are tied from knee to ankle, he would easily just melt into the background, assuming he didn't have that hair, like a flame of a pale sun. He smokes quietly, a cigarette he stole from Sasori's pack just before leaving, the scent now settling his nerves almost as easily as the presence of the red-haired shinobi.