Panta Rhei

[Punslinger]

The night air hung humid and heavy over the dark waters of River Country. The river itself ran the entire length of the country from tip to delta and as such had a hundred different names given by locals along one stretch or another. Here, at one of the busier crossings out of Fire Country the wide, open stretch of almost still water was known as Houdai, the Great Divide. Huge, multi-storied ferries turned inns made their living hauling passengers back and forth across the seven miles or so of placid water, but during the rainy season many spent months on end on one bank or the other as the waters turned carnivorous and volatile, swelling and stretching across some twenty miles. During that time only brave, smaller vessels ventured crossings, and for a price many were unwilling or unable to pay.

Thankfully, that was months away. Tonight, the sounds of life and laughter from inside the ferry's open bar echoed quietly across the water as an elderly man in his fifties rocked gently back and forth on the hind legs of a bamboo chair, his feet propped up against the railing of the outer deck. In his arms, two blond children tucked snugly into a pair of cloth slings wrapped around his shoulders had just begun to snore quietly to the sound of their grandfather humming a listless, mournful tune.

A quiet sigh escaped through Tsutomu's nose as he looked out over the water, watching the waxing moon above dance gently over the ripples caused by the massive houseboat. It had only been a few months since his daughter's death, and even less since he'd applied for sabbatical leave to mourn. Unsure of where to go, he'd wandered west along the trade roads until he'd reached the border, carrying the twins the whole way.

The old man flexed his powerful shoulders wearily, gently jostling the unaffected babes in his lap. Maybe this was what they needed. A fresh start. Somewhere over the river in a world where nobody knew or cared what a Yamanaka was or what the symbol on the bracer in his luggage upstairs meant.

[Oth]

Laxus had gotten quite a few scars in the past decade, but burns? Not as much. His training up in the mountains was fierce and merciless. He had been given the day off to recover his wounds. Laxus wanted to continue, but was forbidden to do so because his strength was needed for his next challenge. Instead, Laxus was sent to scour for food and supplies.

Climbing down a mountain was always much easier than climbing up one. He was on the border of the Fire Country, a mountain covered in a forest. Leading down was just more greenery. It was easy to get lost in the wilderness if he wasn't sure what he was doing. There was a great river coming from the mountain downstream and Laxus followed it down with a small boat he took from back up the tent.

He was at the confluence, crossing over to River country. He could feel the winds from the mountain dumping their moisture down here. It was colder and the clouds were much thicker here. Deeper in, there was rain, a lot of it. Laxus tried to avoid most of it, keeping to the river. He wasn't too familiar with this region and wasn't sure how far the next town was. Further down, he could see a bigger boat. Taking precautions, Laxus covered his tear-colored hair and made sure any ninja-like weapons were concealed. He was just a passerby looking for some supplies and directions. If he played it right, he could get some help from them.

He brought his boat up close, waving down to the sailors. "Got any room up there? There's a hole in my boat! It was a lie of course, but Laxus much rather ride that bigger boat than the slab of wood he had there.

[Punslinger]

“As long as you've got a few coins for the bar, you're welcome to tag along. And bring a round up here while you're at it!” the call fell from the wheelhouse, followed by laughter.

The old man smiled aimlessly, trying to remember the last time he'd laughed in earnest. It had been a while. Between the strident professionalism of his coworkers, the polite disinterest of his friends and family and the constant worry that had clung darkly to the last few years of his life, the effort it took to feign laughter or enjoyment of any sort had been a luxury. Even the arrival of the children had been muted by the looming burden of their upbringing, one that had by no means left his mind since his daughter's passing. Carving out a life for himself and the children well enough for them to be independent by the time of his passing: that would be a challenge.

The old jounin's smile deepened, this time with sincerity. He had always liked a challenge.

Hooded, knowing eyes watched the hooded boatman as he tied his boat and levered himself up onto the deck. He was light on his feet, probably somewhere in his early twenties, definitely a man in his prime. And on his hands, tattoos. Tsutomu's eyes darted down to his own left arm, covered to the wrist by his tunic, the sealing techniques that would betray his profession to anyone with the eye for it underneath.

Paranoia was an unfortunate side effect of living to old age as a shinobi. Rather than let his misgivings cloud his expression, he simply made polite, meaningful eye contact with the younger man, nodding acknowledgment rather than speaking out and waking the children in his lap.

[Oth]

Laxus came aboard, grabbing as his things. He wanted to remain inconspicuous. He had a feeling... having been a wanted man for a while and he knew when he was being watched. Laxus had been training for several days and he was in no mood of a fight. He didn't even know if he had the strength for one. Hopefully, the boat ride would help him out more than cause a bother.

He looked around the boat and the first thing he noticed was its size. There was probably quite a few sailors working around to keep this running and possibly a few VIPs in there too. Big boats always kept bigger secrets. Sure he was tired, but he knew better to let go of a good opportunity.

Discretion was the key here. Laxus needed to find out as much as he could without causing a buzz. He knew he was being watched and whoever it was would probably turn up soon. It was best to keep a positive attitude, or at least fake one. Laxus smiled back at the sailor trying to look happy. He wanted to fake a laugh too but he wasn't that good at faking a good time possibly cause he barely had any.

He did what he was expected. Taking what coins he had in his pockets, he headed down towards the bar, grabbing a drink as soon as he did. Laxus wasn't much of a drinker, but he just felt that it was social norm that he had to accept these days.