the-beff

Blood He slumped against the wall of the shower, letting the nearly scalding water course over his still-tense shoulders. He was nearly crusted in dried blood and dirt, and it coming loose hurt even more than some of the original injuries. That was one of the benefits of fighting with razor-sharp Zanpakutō at least, he mused randomly as he shoved himself into a more upright position. One of the problems though, especially his own affinity for ice, was that his injuries would freeze and clot. Handy on the battlefield. Exceedingly painful when it time to scrape the grime off. He rest his forehead on the shower wall, braced by a hand. Th

Disclaimer: I own not. Moonlight Sitting perched atop the Hokage Monument, the lone kunoichi adjusted her porcelain mask in vague irritation, then pulled it off completely, instead choosing to hang it from her weapons pouch.  No one was going to see her anyways; this hour of the night, no one was going to come to the monument. Moonlight, she speculated reveals everything a shinobi doesn't want to see.  Holding an ungloved hand up, she marveled silently as the shadows cast by the full moon moved fluidly in the dim light.  Granted, it wasn't the moon's fault; that was what the moon did, after all. Shifting her position atop the Nidaime Hoka