Post by Torakomo on Dec 1, 2014 23:35:53 GMT -5
The day was bright, early, and with the barest hints of a breeze. There ware something spiritual about watching the new day dawn, and that is why Toratomo rarely did it. Like any large cat(person) he far more preferred the night to the day. However, he was nothing if not dedicated.
To what, of course, was the question.
He'd torn the sleeves off the shihakushō they'd given him. He'd torn the sleeves off the all shihakushō they'd given him, a fact that had annoyed the tailors to no end. At over nine-feet, Toratomo was already one of the more eccentric designs they'd had to produced, hand-tailored just for the eccentric body on an eccentric shinigami. A dozen uniforms, each equally 'customized' to the large beast-man's specifications, along with the hole for a tail that had been put in by the tailors themselves. He'd thanked them for their consideration, but it hadn't stopped him from doing his own.
Toratomo had woken early, as was his prerogative. Today was a jaunt beyond Seireitei, beyond Soul Society. The orders had come several days prior, direct from the top. A new boss had also led to a new place for Toratomo, and that meant he had a job, and a mission. A mission that was putting a hold on his other duties; he'd heard rumblings of late, ones that very much interested. Curiosity, though it killed, would not prevent him from exploiting the position he'd been placed in to probe.
For now, though, he had other duties. Questions, as well, that could be answered by this trip. He'd woken early and made his way down from the barracks to the headquarters of the 3th early, perching himself atop the entrance itself with a swift leap. He lazed as he waited for his assigned companion, a noble of the Minamoto, Sayuri or some other. His tail swished lightly as the breeze rolled through, rustling the edges of his robes. He yawned wide, tongue sliding up and over his large muzzle and fangs.
Toratomo did not know of them. This was not a conscious choice; he had taken the position as Fourth Seat and been rather active in his outreach. However, the irony was that he'd made more inroads into the other divisions, rather than his own. A member of the Third was yet another on his list of acquaintances from beyond his own ranks. He had made a note to meet with the captain of the Fourth to discuss a project he'd been meaning to begin, one in truth he already had.
Precedence, though, was given to other avenues of research. This was the first true mission he'd had, though, and his first jaunt to the endless desert. He wanted a good look at his planned partner; it was part of why he'd risen so early. He was, after all, a hunter. A predator. Rise early, and good things came.
He let out a soft purr on the exhale as the breeze rolled on, whiskers twitching. His long blade, Kitakaze, was rested point down, hilt skyward. The massive blade extended well over his left shoulder, hand stroking it idly as his other foot dangled, revealing the greaves beneath his robes. It was not, though, a threatening move in any way. If not for the fact of his size, it might even be considered lazy, adorable. He rested his head against it, apparently undaunted by the razor edge.
A soft voice whispered on the wind or a moment, causing him to tap his claws to the blade, ever so slightly.
"So impatient..." he yawned out, toes fleshing as he did, a minor stretch. The breeze rolled again, causing the edges of his uniform to tickle at his fur.
He'd left it the torn edges of his kosode sleeves to fray, and they had, along with every other edge of his uniform. The sash around his waist dangled, extra straps of cloth framing his chest and serving as the large harness for his equally large blades. Nishikaze, the smaller of the pair, was sheathed at the small of his back while the other was out to avoid uncomfortable side effects of its size. He tapped his pointer claw again, and sniffed his nose, more human than animal in motion.
And he waited.
WC: 715
GP: 14
