Urami rolls out of bed, cursing ferociously. She's definitely not a morning
person, but today is a very important day for her. The day she will get her
new assignment. 'And a large amount of money for my last one.' She thinks,
smirking to herself. She picks through her closet in the nude, hoping to
find a decent outfit.
A slim, tight-fitting kimono catches her eye. She runs her delicate fingertips over the ebony silk. It's a very pleasing fabric, embroidered with silver and blue thread. She dresses slowly, taking her time to think. This was bound to be a much more difficult job. The difficulty always increases over time.
The large sleeves cover her hands as she lowers them to her sides. She waltzes over to her small mirror. Once there, she is very content. Her fiery red tresses contrast sharply with all the colors of her outfit. She grins, the very rare expression of joy. No one had ever seen her smile in all of her 17 years; not even her family who she had discarded several years ago.
She takes to combing her chin-length tresses, trying to flatten them. Usually, she let them do as they please. Her hair was often unruly, sticking up in the back. Today was important, however. Dipping her comb into the water bowl, she frowns, one of her most famous expressions, although her most noted by far was her solemn, blank face.
Urami had no idea and no care that she was one of the most beautiful women in the countryside. Her honey-colored oculi were always cold and full of malice, never welcoming anybody into her presence. Her aura was confident, defiant, and strong with a hint of arrogance. Her body was light, but tall, clearly built for stealth.
The young woman strides out of her house, her head held high. Fiery tresses blow gently in the wind, giving her a very temporary gentleness. It doesn't take her very long to reach the royal courtyard. She flashes her pass to the guards and marches right by. She is quickly greeted by servants and welcomed inside. There, she meets with her familiar.
"Urami." A strong, charming masculine voice greets. Urami bows slightly and rather informally. "Good day, m'lord. What's my assignment?" The man watches her for a second, then replies. "I can see you would like to make this brief. Very well, then." He accepts a piece of paper from one of his servants then shows her the drawing. "You are to go after this man. He is a member of the opposing country of Konan...also one of the Suzaku seven. He goes by the name of Chichiri."
Urami studies the sketch careful, noting the facial features, the blue hair with its wild bangs and the beads around his neck. There would be no mistaking this individual for any other. "Also note that he's wearing a mask, Urami." Urami nods and turns around, beginning to walk away. She then turns and gives him a friendly glare. "I'm well ahead of you, lord Nakago."
A slim, tight-fitting kimono catches her eye. She runs her delicate fingertips over the ebony silk. It's a very pleasing fabric, embroidered with silver and blue thread. She dresses slowly, taking her time to think. This was bound to be a much more difficult job. The difficulty always increases over time.
The large sleeves cover her hands as she lowers them to her sides. She waltzes over to her small mirror. Once there, she is very content. Her fiery red tresses contrast sharply with all the colors of her outfit. She grins, the very rare expression of joy. No one had ever seen her smile in all of her 17 years; not even her family who she had discarded several years ago.
She takes to combing her chin-length tresses, trying to flatten them. Usually, she let them do as they please. Her hair was often unruly, sticking up in the back. Today was important, however. Dipping her comb into the water bowl, she frowns, one of her most famous expressions, although her most noted by far was her solemn, blank face.
Urami had no idea and no care that she was one of the most beautiful women in the countryside. Her honey-colored oculi were always cold and full of malice, never welcoming anybody into her presence. Her aura was confident, defiant, and strong with a hint of arrogance. Her body was light, but tall, clearly built for stealth.
The young woman strides out of her house, her head held high. Fiery tresses blow gently in the wind, giving her a very temporary gentleness. It doesn't take her very long to reach the royal courtyard. She flashes her pass to the guards and marches right by. She is quickly greeted by servants and welcomed inside. There, she meets with her familiar.
"Urami." A strong, charming masculine voice greets. Urami bows slightly and rather informally. "Good day, m'lord. What's my assignment?" The man watches her for a second, then replies. "I can see you would like to make this brief. Very well, then." He accepts a piece of paper from one of his servants then shows her the drawing. "You are to go after this man. He is a member of the opposing country of Konan...also one of the Suzaku seven. He goes by the name of Chichiri."
Urami studies the sketch careful, noting the facial features, the blue hair with its wild bangs and the beads around his neck. There would be no mistaking this individual for any other. "Also note that he's wearing a mask, Urami." Urami nods and turns around, beginning to walk away. She then turns and gives him a friendly glare. "I'm well ahead of you, lord Nakago."