Yopparai Ramu Koku
“With no booze, whores and cussing, life would be a lot less interesting.”
At Yopparai's illegal gambling, drinking and whoring den, 1 day before current events.
The air was filled with smoke, causing everyone inside the small hall to either have become resistant to the smoke of tobacco by now, or to forcefully get choked into submission by the thick clouds. At the bar sat a figure with white hair, and a half open black buttoned shirt. There was a load of hair coming out of his shirt, but the two women on either side of him didn't seem mindful of that, in fact, they stretched their hands over it and rubbed the mans' chest as he sipped on his glass of rum. They were both not exactly the most good looking women, but their profession didn't require them to be pretty - just to be available. The ratio of men to women in the hall made sure that there was always work for willing women in this hall.
The man heaved his glass mug back and drank the entire mug in one single gulp, before slamming down the mug on the table. The bartender was quick, and filled his mug again quickly with a special barrel simply called 'XXX' as could be seen on the black paint that was used to paint that marking onto the barrel. While his gigantic mug was being filled again, the man waved his arms around to get rid of the whores around him. “'ave had enough of you two, get lost!” he yelled angrily, though remarkably sober for a man that had just thrown back his 5th glass of pure alcohol. As soon as the two wenches were discarded like the cheap women they were, the man grabbed his mug and raised it into the air, followed swiftly after that by several men at the bar, some of which had wenches around them, some of which were armed with gigantic swords, and others who were armed with atleast six swords. They all raised their mugs in the air, looking at the man. “... DRINK UP, ME HEARTIES!” he yelled before gulping down the entire mug again. The others followed him although they were most certainly not drinking pure alcohol. “Now.. where's that ugly mug.” the man said somewhat more quiet as he threw the mug away somewhere behind the counter, causing a barmaid to duck and narrowly avoid that mug.
With a quick spin of his barstool, he did two three hundred and sixty degree spins before hopping off the stool and grabbing his giant sword that was laying next to him on two other stools. Anyone with half a brain would realize the sword was Shibuki the Blastsword. And anyone who knew a thing or two about modern day politics, would realize the man wielding the sword was Yopparai Ramu Koku, the drunkard, and one of the seven swordsmen of the mist. Yopparai glanced around a while, looking over the man he was looking for atleast two times before finally realizing where Tsukiya was. He wandered over, putting his blade on his shoulder while holding onto it, giving him a relaxed and casual look.. perhaps a bit deadly, too. But most of the men in the hall looked rather rugged and deadly, and the women were either really ugly (and thus, had barely any customers) or were very very pretty.
Atleast, that was if you only looked in the main hall. There was a jail cell door in the corner of the building, which notably had nobody sitting in front of it except for a large, bad man with numerous scars over his body. He was seemingly guarding the door, and there was no telling what was beyond the door, which lead to a staircase down into the cellar. It was said that occassionally, Yopparai would go down there and that the carnal noises of pleasure could be heard all throughout the hall when he did. Sometimes, the hall was closed and everyone was kicked out, and according to some, Yopparai would go out and pillage a village or two, to find new enticing women that he would then 'offer' a permanent stay in his hall of drinks, whorery and gambling. The offer was, ofcourse, always accepted for reasons that related mostly to immediate danger to your life if you said no. Ofcourse, drunk men tell many tales, but Yopparai has never denied this specific tale. Who was to say if it was true or not..
“Hoy, black-hair-white-eyes!” he said to the man in front of him, as he approached him looking intimidating as always. The man in front of him looked just as intimidating, however, but in a more shinobi-related way. A way that said 'I am powerful' where as Yopparai just looked like an uppity idiot with a big sword. “We've got to go now, big ol' ugly, if we want to meet that dilly dally informant of yours, that cunt that he is.”
Present time.
Yopparai walked behind Tsukiya, the black haired, white eyed man that he was with in his own tavern. “Are we there yet. Are we there yet. Are we there yet.” he said, repeating himself a few times more as he walked on the dirt road. His sword was bound on his back, and his belt now had a very large flask on it, that read 'XXX' amongst other things, such as silly drawings of naked women, random child-like drawings and swear words written in a shit handwriting. “Fuuuuuuuuhuhuhuhuuuuuuuuuck.. this is taking way too long. Couldn't your informant have come to my legendary tavern? Nooooo, we have to meet him all the way out in his own village. 'Woo, I'm Tsukiya, and I'm scared my informant will get found out, caught and brutally killed for treason by the local authority, boohoo.' Can we atleast mug some people on the way back?”
Yopparai was doing all sorts of things to keep himself occupied, such as following Tsukiya whilst skipping and jumping from one side of the dirt road to the other in a single jump. Occasionally he'd take his flask of pure alcohol and take a big swig out of it, to atleast keep himself hydrated with alcohol. “You want some?” he asked Tsukiya, completely ignoring the fact that the last 'normal' man that drank from his flask had died of alcohol poisoning, and that was with just 1 offered gulp taken.
