Nara Shikamaru (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
breakthroughs) wrote2014-03-02 09:32 am
breakthroughs) wrote2014-03-02 09:32 am
Entry tags:
he has discovered, uncovered a world of amazing sensations
A man who would attack a civilian woman is, in Shikamaru's view, one of the worst possible types of scum that walk the earth. Quiet and insidious, those who would at least entertain the idea walk around aplenty in Darrow, their eyes lingering and jaws set as the examine the women who pass them by. Shikamaru isn't much of a drinker, but if he has a night free of all other obligations, he's been known to head into a bar just for the sake of keeping an eye on the crowd. Hoping to keep them safe.
He's not sure when he became a man fairly devoted and constantly on the lookout, in spite of his inherent laziness, but there he is. Keeping a watch on everyone.
Doing his best to protect the people, in ways that not many are prepared to. They're outnumbered by here, in this busy urban civilian city, striking a sharp contrast with the military life he's known at home.
When he watches a man with a heavy flush stagger to his feet as a woman leaves the bar, Shikamaru drains the rest of his ale, leaving a significant tip in the glass before quietly sliding his hands into his pockets and stalking out into the night. He is dressed no different than most people on the street, in jeans and a turtleneck sweater, always the type to hide in plain sight. Not like the man would notice, anyway.
But the woman does, and for some reason, she turns sharply as though to cut through an alley that she must know as a shortcut back to her home. Damn. The man picks up pace behind her, not necessarily the most accurate with his direction, but fast enough on his feet to follow. It means Shikamaru has to hasten his own gait, shivering to cover the change in his speed, as though he were only rushing home to escape the cold.
He stops as he gets into the alley, brows furrowing as he finds the man trying to force the woman against a wall. Forming a seal with his hands, Shikamaru's job isn't too difficult; the lamp by the street gives him ample shadow to work with, stretching his own until it meets with the outstretched shadow under the man's feet, freezing him in place. Shikamaru adopts the man's pose, his hands tight and raised in the air, before he deliberately releases his own. And the man obediently releases his as well from around the woman's wrists.
"The fuck," he mutters, eyes wide.
The woman meets Shikamaru's gaze warily, and he tilts his head, raising his chin in the direction she was originally headed in. "I wouldn't recommend walking somewhere secluded. Take the main road. It's early enough that it should keep you safe," he recommends, and the woman nods quickly, not saying a word as she rushes back to the main street, her heels tapping as she goes.
"Now, for you," Shikamaru murmurs with a concerned look, lowering his arms and stepping towards the man.
Four minutes, thirteen seconds remaining.
"I don't suppose I could convince you to go home peacefully and never try that again?"
The man growls, struggling against the restraint of Shikamaru's shadow.
Shikamaru sighs. "I didn't think so."
He's not sure when he became a man fairly devoted and constantly on the lookout, in spite of his inherent laziness, but there he is. Keeping a watch on everyone.
Doing his best to protect the people, in ways that not many are prepared to. They're outnumbered by here, in this busy urban civilian city, striking a sharp contrast with the military life he's known at home.
When he watches a man with a heavy flush stagger to his feet as a woman leaves the bar, Shikamaru drains the rest of his ale, leaving a significant tip in the glass before quietly sliding his hands into his pockets and stalking out into the night. He is dressed no different than most people on the street, in jeans and a turtleneck sweater, always the type to hide in plain sight. Not like the man would notice, anyway.
But the woman does, and for some reason, she turns sharply as though to cut through an alley that she must know as a shortcut back to her home. Damn. The man picks up pace behind her, not necessarily the most accurate with his direction, but fast enough on his feet to follow. It means Shikamaru has to hasten his own gait, shivering to cover the change in his speed, as though he were only rushing home to escape the cold.
He stops as he gets into the alley, brows furrowing as he finds the man trying to force the woman against a wall. Forming a seal with his hands, Shikamaru's job isn't too difficult; the lamp by the street gives him ample shadow to work with, stretching his own until it meets with the outstretched shadow under the man's feet, freezing him in place. Shikamaru adopts the man's pose, his hands tight and raised in the air, before he deliberately releases his own. And the man obediently releases his as well from around the woman's wrists.
"The fuck," he mutters, eyes wide.
The woman meets Shikamaru's gaze warily, and he tilts his head, raising his chin in the direction she was originally headed in. "I wouldn't recommend walking somewhere secluded. Take the main road. It's early enough that it should keep you safe," he recommends, and the woman nods quickly, not saying a word as she rushes back to the main street, her heels tapping as she goes.
"Now, for you," Shikamaru murmurs with a concerned look, lowering his arms and stepping towards the man.
Four minutes, thirteen seconds remaining.
"I don't suppose I could convince you to go home peacefully and never try that again?"
The man growls, struggling against the restraint of Shikamaru's shadow.
Shikamaru sighs. "I didn't think so."
no subject
He would never kill for his own purposes. Never kill for the sake of saving himself, and himself alone. But that's never the situation in front of him. He was the lead strategist of an entire village, a village at war, and that meant that thousands of people were counting on him not to let an enemy slip by.
He never regrets the principle of ending a few lives to save many more. The only regret comes if he thinks he could have ended the conflict more efficiently. But that, simply put, isn't always possible. And self-flagellation is less valuable than learning from his mistakes and becoming better in the process.
Blood is only blood.
"I have blood on my hands. A lot of it," he admits, deciding to be honest. Why not? An idealist earns truth most easily of all. "But I would rather carry the burden of blood on my hands if it means saving more people. My emotional weight is less important than their health."
no subject
Bruce had told her killing was wrong, something she had known from that moment at eight and she had believed him. Implicitly. It was not a matter of right or wrong. Kaine had argued with her but she had always been stubborn. But here, here this made sense. It wasn't black or white but grey. She wouldn't kill- she couldn't kill but could she judge those around her if they did? If they did to save people.
"You think I am being selfish?" Cass asked curious and cautious.
no subject
But habits are also hard to break, so he lets the cigarette hang loosely from his teeth.
"You give your time and your effort towards keeping people safe. It's okay to want to do so in your way. But it's good to remember that your way isn't the only way," Shikamaru concludes, his lips quirking briefly in a smile.
She's not a bad person. At all. Though he can't help but wonder what kind of background it was that led her up to this point.