dangerouswind

Entry tags:

[003]

[Temari's back.

She's not sure she wants to be. She's keeping to the trees as much as she can, before she finally decides she really needs to get into the town and figure out what in the hell is going on.

There's blood smeared across her cheek. Her hands are scraped raw. Her wings -- normally tucked away under her clothes -- are ragged and missing feathers here and there. There's a wild look in her eye.

And she doesn't really know where she is.

This might not end well. At least she doesn't have her fan on her.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's stupid to think that you'll have to do that with the people here. Most of them aren't even ninjas, you know. Don't bother them, they won't bother you.

I don't know this place. [Why can't he get that through his thick skull?] And hell if I'm taking your word for it.

Once upon a time, you were smart enough that you wouldn't need that to figure it out for yourself. You following me back there? That was sloppy. [And he never thought he would have to say that to you, of all people.] You pull that on the wrong person here and you're going to get yourself killed, whether you have your fan or not.

Edited 2010-12-22 17:45 (UTC)

[She doesn't have to defend herself to you, Konoha. And she certainly won't cop to feeling like she knows you. She stands there, arms crossed, and just stares at him.]

I'm better than that.

Yeah? Then act like it.

[Because he knows you are.]

Edited 2010-12-23 03:44 (UTC)

[In the next second he rolls his shoulders, taking a step for the building.]

Suit yourself, if you don't wanna come inside. It's warmer - and there's probably a jacket in your apartment.

[He doesn't stop to let her dwell on the offer, knowing the chances are higher that she won't take him up on it.] I'll be back in a couple of minutes.

[She'll come inside when she damn well feels like coming inside, Nara Shikamaru, and not a second before. She crosses her arms as she waits, fingers on her right hand brushing the scrapes on the knuckles of her left. She's fidgety and she hates it. She's exposed and she hates it. She's dependent on some guy that she may or may not know and she hates that even more.

She'll just wait here. See what he actually does. She should just kill him now. Better not to give anyone an opportunity. Something stays her hand, though. Hell if she knows. Cares.]

[True to his word, he's back no more than five minutes later. His grocery bag has been abandoned indoors and Asuma's trench knives added to his belt, tucked under his flak jacket and out of sight. He knows it's fully possible she will try to kill him. And that would be troublesome.

Walking back over to her, he holds out the first aid kit, journal resting on top of it. She'll probably notice her name emblazoned on it, so he has it rested cover down.] Here.

[Temari steps forward, eyes narrowed when she sees her name on the book. What the hell kind of trick is that? She reaches out, as if to take it, but then changes course in the blink of an eye. She's trying to wrap her hand around his wrist, other hand balling into a fist.]

[He lets her, though she's not going to get much further. Shikamaru's a patient guy, but he's not about to wait through a beating in order to see her wisen up.

Instead, he turns his glare from the hand on his wrist to her face.] You really don't remember a thing about me, do you?

[You may have a hold on his wrist, Temari, but on the ground, his shadow has a hold of yours.]

[She's holding onto his wrist, but something about all this has her pausing -- in thought and action. She returns his gaze, sorting through thoughts that really don't make any sense at all.]

I don't know.

[She's not entirely sure what prompts the honesty, except that she knows that something is very, very wrong here. And he knows what it is.]

[He reorganizes that statement in his head. Maybe she does - would she have bothered following him if she hadn't? Or come with him this way?

...] If there's a part of you that does, you need to listen to it.

[He opens his palm, making her release him. Subtle reminder of what his jutsu does, as well as what he said to her earlier.] I don't want to hurt you. If I did, I would've done it already.

[And he could have. He waits to see if she understands that.]

[Her hand opens of its own accord. Or... no. Of his accord. It strikes her then, suddenly and without mercy: That's why her gut was telling her to get out of the shadows.]

I could give you a run for your money.

[No, her voice is not shaking. It never does.

... She needs some time to think. Or something to beat up.]

If I were to let you go, you mean. [Because in case you haven't noticed, you're not in a situation to boast.]

[But then he grins.] But yeah. You could. I know from experience.

There's that.

[He could certainly hurt her, no questions and no hesitation. No problem.

It frightens her. She hates being in that situation but there's a part of her that demands that she remain very still and simply watch his every move.]

Why does the book have my name?

Because it's yours. They come like that - mine has my name on it.

I want to see it.

[There's a dumb pause.] Mine?

[...because this could get awkward. >.>]

[...

...

...]

No, mine, you moron. Let go of my hand so I can look at it properly.

[Oh, so it is still you. He's glad to see you haven't been completely replaced by an alien.]

Tch. Troublesome.

[He considers her - she's calmer now. And the less time he spends on this jutsu, the better off he'll be.

He releases the jutsu, taking a step back to give her her space, and let her pick the journal up from off of the ground. If she tries attacking him again, he'll just make sure to pin her shadow with one of his trench knives first. Less effort for him.]

[She snags the journal from the ground and steps back herself, gaze going down to his shadow, just in case. Anything funny and she'd outta there.

Quietly, she flips through the book, one eye on the entries in it and one eye on him. After a moment, though, her gaze is on him entirely and her eyes are narrowed.

Troublesome, he said. She's heard that before. Sorta of. It's starting to feel like she has two lifetimes of memories stuck in her head and neither one of them makes any sense.]

Glaring at me isn't going to do much for either of us, you know. [He nods his head to the first aid kit.] You're not bleeding somewhere I can't see, are you?

Edited 2010-12-23 07:30 (UTC)

[Who knows? Maybe if she glares long enough, some things will snap into place. One can hope.

Her gaze travels to her scraped hands and she shakes her head. She was definitely bruised in other places, but she wasn't bleeding. She tucks the book -- her book, apparently -- under her arm and snags the first aid kit.]

What? Do I make you uncomfortable?

No. I'm a ninja; you're a ninja. [You get used to that stuff.] But I'd look like an asshole if I let you bleed to death or something. [/handwave. He's not worried. At all.

...shut up.]

Something tells me that you're an ass anyway.

[She's totally not fumbling with the first aid kid or the many little packages contained therein. Never. At all.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject