Send "✖" If you think that I'm playing my character properly.

The woman known as 'The Boar' was not a kindly one; her softness had been eaten away long ago--bleached in the sun, eroded by salt wind and the relentless tide. The sea did not coddle--did not care, but the woman currently sawing at thick strands of rope with a jagged bit of metal didn't need coddling to begin with. She worked doggedly at her task, a thick braid of blonde striking back against her collar bone with each thrust of her arm--healthy, bronze skin did not seem bothered by the sun; there were no telltale spots of redness or blistering that might indicate she had any need to seek shelter, and though the little boat she was floating in looked fairly well-used and worn, it did not seem in danger of falling to bits beneath her.

All in all the situation was a vast improvement upon her former status--she'd been in dire straits there for a while; tied wrist to elbow, secured at the ankle. She was an attractive woman despite her missing right eye--had she not been good with her words and even better with her hands she might have found herself in unpleasant circumstances.

Almost too unpleasant to contemplate, really.

Her arms worked tirelessly; she'd stolen a boat tied behind the ship she'd escaped, and though she'd fled under cover of dark, she soon noticed an extra weight hanging off the starboard side. The net was nailed into the wood and as she waited for day to break she'd had time to wonder, finally, why they'd left the little boat to drag behind, and what it was they were transporting. 

It was something living; of this she was almost certain. It had thrashed several times but seemed to lose vigor after several minutes. The extra weight was doing the blonde pirate no favors, and though she was not a particularly kind woman, it was in her best interest to dump the cargo and sail with haste toward the west. Navigation was not her best talent, but she knew enough to get herself to the island where her crew would be waiting.

She let out a satisfied sound as the last frayed bit of rope came free; it snapped back against the water, and sent salt droplets up across her arms--the hiss of pain as salt touched the raw wounds at her wrists was sharp and as cat-like as everything else about her. 

asksasorinodanna

ssuigetsu

The last thing he'd expected to get back from his people after they sent word that they'd intercepted one of Orochimaru's shipments was... a tank. One seemingly only filled with water, but he knew better than to be fooled by such simplicity. Thus, it was only after the tank was carefully secured in a seal to keep whatever as in there... in, that it was worked out how to open it. When no noxious gas came spilling out the top, it was encouraging, but Danzo was more than capable of waiting.