[OPEN/CLOSED] We are not alone in the dark with our demons..

[highly_strung]

WHO: Sunalings and various friends.
WHEN: All throughout the month of May.
WHERE: Sunagakure.
NOTES: Rasa is dead, tensions are all over the place and.. Well, at least things can't get any worse?



[ See top-level comments for threads. Feel free to attack this with any other top-level you crave if your character is in Suna at any point in May! ]

Link to War Timeline just in case.

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6th, just before Rasa's funeral | KANKURO & TEMARI

[highly_strung]

[ He never likes wearing his funeral clothes (though he supposes no-one really likes it, you're definitely not supposed to like it) but this particular time feels a lot more uncomfortable than the rest. He's dressed to respectable standards in a straight pressed black tunic and a black pair of salwar, has foregone his paint and his head-dress, and is standing in the middle of a room decked out to house the beginning of the funeral parade looking as though he'd much rather be hiding under the desk.

Typically, he's respectful at funerals... This time, he wants to be anywhere other than in the procession following Rasa's body to the podium in the middle of the town. It's not like he isn't sad about his father's death - he is, really - but... it's awkward to be out in public right now. By this point it has been common knowledge for some time that Rasa was grooming him to be his successor, and most of the village are now assuming without any official confirmation that the role will fall into Kankuro's hands. There's a general amount of speculation and dubiousness, but for the most part anyone he speaks to seems like they don't know whether to be happy or sad for him given the circumstances.

He grits his teeth. It will be a long two days, and with the temperamental attitudes of both his siblings as of late - Temari with her short temper and Gaara with his... eerie happiness - he has a feeling it won't be an easy ride.

It's Temari's attitude that sets him most on edge, which is why he'd asked her to meet him here early under the gauze of preparation. It's times like this that they have to stick together, not break apart, and Kankuro is determined to sort this out before it gets any worse. ]

14th | Welcoming the Konoha Envoy to Suna

[highly_strung]

[ He's been so busy as of late, what with the funeral and various other preparations to take care of, that the small slip of paper regarding the personnel making up the envoy from Konoha hasn't exactly been on the top of his to-do list... In fact it had been shunted rather early onto Temari's pile, and then onto the shoulders of whoever she'd gotten to take care of it if she hadn't already done so herself.

So, as he stands at the boundary of the village to greet the return offering for Suna's assistance with the rescue mission at the start of the month, he finds himself reasonably unprepared.

Oh well... it can't be that bad, right? ]

14th | Late Night Sparring | KANKURO & TENTEN

[highly_strung]

[ He'd given her the usual signals; a mix of physical code and pointed looks, snide comments and intention juuuust short of actually telling her outright; and now he's waiting along the boundary of their usual training ground, sitting on one of the high sand domes with Karasu slumped at his feet.

Rather than cool and prepared, he looks almost dejected as he flicks a string of chakra up to make Karasu twist his wrist, unsheathing and re-sheathing the blade concealed there.

When he hears footsteps behind him, he quickly gets to his feet and breaks the chakra string, his spine straightening to something more confident, less embarrassing, and turns to face his opponent for the evening. ]

Took you long enough. Did you forget how to get here or something?

15th | The Godaime Kazekage

[highly_strung]

[ PLACEHOLDER ]

15th, evening | A Different Kind of Beginning | KANKURO & TENTEN again

[highly_strung]

[ PLACEHOLDER ]

Evening of the 14th?

[kikaichuu]

[The setting sun is a relief to his over worked tenants and, for once, Shino foregoes sleep in favour of the chill of the Suna evening. The desert will never be a place he comfortably calls home, but he appreciates the quiet of evening and the spots of light as patrols change and doors open with snatches of sound.

The bubble of chatter draws him closer, much like a moth to the glow of candle light and though he doesn't plan to enter the establishment, a flash of royal purple has him reconsidering.

Kankuro's mood hasn't improved any by the looks of things, perhaps even worsening if the bottle of sake in front of him is any indication and he wonders if grief is the culprit or something more?
He settles into a seat beside the other to abate his curiosity at least.]

Good evening.

Evening of the 6th, after Rasa's funeral

[fourredstripes]

[ It's not the first loss of a Kazekage Baki has lived through, but it's the first of their funerals he's attended. Even then, there are rituals in place for something like this, decorum to follow. He's worn the traditional black clothing the entire day, and even though it's more comfortable than other clothes he owns he finds himself chaffing for his uniform.

He's been so busy over the past days that he hasn't had time to reflect on himself, shutting down his feelings just to focus on the task at hand. Even now that things are slowing down as the sun is beginning to set, he finds himself still delayed in his response.

Rasa is dead, has been dead, and yet it still feels like it happened an instant ago, without warning. He would have imagined, if he ever took the time to think about it, that Rasa's death would have been much more dramatic. That he would have died in the center of the village, when worst came to worst. In a way, it feels like Rasa's been slipped through Sunagakure's fingers and in a way it feels like he's been slipped out of Baki's fingers as well.

He'd always figured he would have been there when it happened.

That thought bothers him, so he turns his attention back to the immediate needs and the now. He's worried about Temari, he's been worried about her, but Kankuro is the one he needs to speak to. He seeks him out through the crowds of black clothing, the gloomy air of respectful mourning. ]