Post by BEX on Sept 27, 2011 10:45:37 GMT -5
The humid air of the island was only beginning to get him. Hair matted against his forehead or dankly resting in worn out tendrils that camouflaged against his dandruff free shoulders, the Director let his tongue hang out while futilely fanning himself. A puff of smoke was all the warning he had as master of stealth—one of the shinobi of the isle—appeared abruptly cutting into the solitary act of cooling himself before making his rounds of training for the day.
“Gack! Mwah fung!” the injured man cried, dropping his makeshift cooling device as he pressed both hands to his face and angled a dark glare to the emotionless woman examining him with a circumspect stare. It was an effort for someone as lecherous as himself not to glance even the slightest bit downward, but he knew enough not to examine any of the female nin on the island as well as he’d warned all of his recruits not to…at least he hoped he had. “Yes, yes…what is it now?” he finally managed to say once the blaring pain slowly subsided to a buzzing nuisance at the back of his mind.
As was always the case the only response that he received was a nod towards the flaps of the tent signaling that yet another recruit had come to the island; that would make seven so far. What had been a mask of pain shifted so suddenly it was hard to imagine the excitable looking fellow to have even been injured in the first place as he hurriedly tightened up his tie and did the best to make himself look every bit worthy of his acquired mantle of ‘Director’. Tugging stiffly at the sweat matted shirt, he turned towards the woman who watched with those cold eyes wondering what she was thinking.
“Well…how do I look?”
“…..”
Grumbling about how none of these savages was good for anything other than brutally scarring man for life, the Director hastily straightened himself out, snatched the file he’d been thumbing through before disappearing through the flaps of his tent. Of course the recruit wouldn’t be let within the campsite itself—no one without the Director’s authorization could do so—and so the swaggering, tall man strode off towards the entrance where a flock of the ninja barred the path to another unfortunate, blindfolded recruit. “You may remove the blindfold from the recruit now.” he demanded, his voice dispassionate as any one of the blank faces that the ninja donned at all times. Sometimes he startled himself how inhuman he could sound, but for the goal that he wished to accomplish there was no other path to walk; he had to be like the diamonds that littered the island. Noting that the height of the man before him was dwarfed by his own, he quickly stuck a thumb into the file he held: Flynn Reptiel, huh.
As the white cloth that had been over the eyes fell away, the Director’s brow went up a notch—the man was truly beautiful. Covering his momentary disbelief with a grunt and a slight shuffling of the feet he offered his greetings with a most suspicious bow and smile, “Welcome Recruit Reptiel, I do hope you will survive your first day at Crysiland.”
…well, he was the welcoming committee.
“Gack! Mwah fung!” the injured man cried, dropping his makeshift cooling device as he pressed both hands to his face and angled a dark glare to the emotionless woman examining him with a circumspect stare. It was an effort for someone as lecherous as himself not to glance even the slightest bit downward, but he knew enough not to examine any of the female nin on the island as well as he’d warned all of his recruits not to…at least he hoped he had. “Yes, yes…what is it now?” he finally managed to say once the blaring pain slowly subsided to a buzzing nuisance at the back of his mind.
As was always the case the only response that he received was a nod towards the flaps of the tent signaling that yet another recruit had come to the island; that would make seven so far. What had been a mask of pain shifted so suddenly it was hard to imagine the excitable looking fellow to have even been injured in the first place as he hurriedly tightened up his tie and did the best to make himself look every bit worthy of his acquired mantle of ‘Director’. Tugging stiffly at the sweat matted shirt, he turned towards the woman who watched with those cold eyes wondering what she was thinking.
“Well…how do I look?”
“…..”
Grumbling about how none of these savages was good for anything other than brutally scarring man for life, the Director hastily straightened himself out, snatched the file he’d been thumbing through before disappearing through the flaps of his tent. Of course the recruit wouldn’t be let within the campsite itself—no one without the Director’s authorization could do so—and so the swaggering, tall man strode off towards the entrance where a flock of the ninja barred the path to another unfortunate, blindfolded recruit. “You may remove the blindfold from the recruit now.” he demanded, his voice dispassionate as any one of the blank faces that the ninja donned at all times. Sometimes he startled himself how inhuman he could sound, but for the goal that he wished to accomplish there was no other path to walk; he had to be like the diamonds that littered the island. Noting that the height of the man before him was dwarfed by his own, he quickly stuck a thumb into the file he held: Flynn Reptiel, huh.
As the white cloth that had been over the eyes fell away, the Director’s brow went up a notch—the man was truly beautiful. Covering his momentary disbelief with a grunt and a slight shuffling of the feet he offered his greetings with a most suspicious bow and smile, “Welcome Recruit Reptiel, I do hope you will survive your first day at Crysiland.”
…well, he was the welcoming committee.