#anticivillain

“Alternatively: sell them on the black market.”

Oh, oh this is not in any way superior than myself-

Ego Building!;

(Hello there! We do not interact a lot and I find that a shame. I still have your URL meme sitting here and I haven't forgotten to do it, I'm just a very far bit behind!

You're kind for this, a whole lot, and I appreciate that with great honesty. To receive such high praise is always stunning to me, because I don't understand it. But I am not a hero, and you lot deserve a lot better than I.

I hear that a lot: 'You're kind/sweet/etc', but I wish that what I do was just the bare minimum to be done. You all deserve much more.

Waaaaaait, I didn’t vote yet.

“Hey mamacita.” *eyebrow wriggle*

@anticivillain 

“It seems I am not the only one making mistakes in my perceptions then.” Mito murmured, the urge to summon golden chains to bind or rip simmering just below her control- whichever would most aptly deal with this threat she was now facing. 

Her village, her home could not be compromised. Not again. 

Uzushiogakure had fallen, but Uzushio lived on. They kept small, isolated, stayed out of others way and cut all contact with those who could have betrayed them- how else had mist known how to fell the golden city? Any dealing not with Uzushio folk was strictly limited to polite and subterfugal. 

No one could know there were survivors- not now not ever. And here came this boy, threatening things he didn’t understand, seeking to rip away their anonymity and their peace. Not again. 

She was Mito Uzumaki, daughter of headman Asahina Uzumaki, last descendant of the true line of the glorioius Uzumaki clan and she would not allow this threat to go unanswered. The forests surrounding new Uzushio village were dark and quiet, a perfect place for a stranger to disappear. 

“Which do you suppose is stronger? Love, or greed?” Beneath her Kimono, her feet slipped into a stance handed down by generations of Uzushi refugees. 

No, it’s a shirt. A shirt that has a pocket protector.