The Gypsy's Corner (Open)

Sun Apr 12, 2020 2:04 am

Neighboring the main market square of Kumogakure, down scenic side streets and alleyways, neighboring a curry-ramen shop and the edge of the village platform, is an unassuming street corner with a picturesque view. From this corner, one could see the entire spirit of Kumogakure: from its hardy people to the imposing tower that is the Raikage's home.

A man turns away from the market square, following the scenic route, enjoying the sights and smells that passed him. With thick, dark hair tied by golden thread, draped in silk scarves that flow around his lean body, with skin like desert clay, one would think him to be a foreigner. Yet, the warm greetings by residents of the scenic side-street, and the wrapped-and-packaged meal, sitting on the corner, from the ramen shop would say otherwise. A note has been left near the meal. Curious, the man picks it up.

We heard you graduated from the Academy! We couldn't be happier for you, please, take this on the house!

- Mr. and Mrs. Saki

A smile spreads from the man's face, the kindness of the ramen shop owner and his wife is more than appreciated. Subconciously, the man fiddles with a headband wrapped around his arm, the symbol etched on the metal weighs more than the man expected. Sighing, the man takes his meal, eating it heartily, and thanking the ramen shop owner and his wife in his own foreign way.

Going to a small alleyway, the man grabs a small wooden table and chair: setting both up in the corner, so he can face the tower of the Raikage. He placed 100 ryo on the table, like one places bait on a hook. He layed down the many cards of his trade, as well as dice crafted from animal bone. Clay cups are placed adjacent to the dice, in such a way to make both options look dazzling. The man also turned his armband toward the inside, hiding the village symbol etched onto the metal, so as to no deter anyone from coming to his corner. As was his custom, the man unhooked the tambourine, and padded it rhythmically.

The rattling rhythm shimmered throughout the scenic side street, being carried by the wind toward the Market. This sound, like an alarm, drew many residents out from their home: to see the man who always sat at the corner. The ramenshop owner, a small and elderly man with limbs like rope, shuffled at the door, smiling.

"Raleth! We never expected you to come back! We thought you'd be off in some far off land by now!"

The man called Raleth smiled, and spoke: his voice as soothing as a cool wind in a hot desert.

"I should be, Mr. Saki. But, I need to pay for my meal first!," he said, padding his tambourine, beaming at the ramen shop owner; drawing curious visitors to his corner with his tambourine.