| [Jun. 12th, 2008|08:57 am] |
"I can see," Genma protested. "Might need to sit back down a little though. I don't think you should make a clone. If you're as chakra-wiped as I feel, it will probably put you in a coma if you try." He yawned again, and looked at the vast distance separating him from his bed. It seemed like several kilometers, at least, and when you took into account the detour that was going to be necessary to stop at the toilet, and a second detour to locate more orange juice in the fridge, it was really daunting.
Raidou's question about the eyes, too was disconcerting. "I... had them. In my pack. They're in some preserving stuff so they didn't have to be kept cold, but where's my gear?" An untidy pile of dirty ANBU blacks lay quietly stinking of stale sweat near the bed. A related pile of discarded armour for chest, arms and shins cluttered up the space in front of Genma's shrine. Two pairs of sturdy boots lay on their sides in the entry. Their swords, his and Raidou's, were resting neatly on top of a litter of magazines and bills on Genma's table, but their utility belts with associated pouches were not immediately visible.
Genma took a single halting step away from the door and stumbled again, knocking a small decorative scroll on the wall swaying. "Damn, he can't seriously have thought that we.. That I... I mean you and me..." This time the laughter was more of a giggle. "Not that I'd turn you down, but damn. I can't even take two steps in a row. Sorry if it's been a disappointment." |
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