LJ: this one
Timezone: GMT-3, but I’m on at most of the day
Style of Writing: Third person, past tense. Present tense if absolutely necessary, but unless it deals with flashback or so, it tends to throw me off the mood.
Characters you would prefer to use: Namikaze Minato, Gaara. Depending on the plot, Naruto
Characters you would like yours to interact with:
For Minato: Yondaime Kazekage (aka Daichi, as I got stuck calling him), Sakumo, Obito, Itachi
For Gaara: Naruto
For Naruto: Gaara
I’m just gonna list them here…Without caring who tops:
Yondishipping (Minato/Yondi Kazekage)
Is there a particular age group you would prefer?: above 17, if you please
Timeline/Setting: I’m okay with all and any AU, Gaiden era, normal Naruto, shippouden Naruto, etc.
AIM/e-mail or any other form of contact: firstname.lastname@example.org
Any additional information : I write third person, past tense, and you can trust a decently sized paragraph from me at my worst (and like three word pages worth of writing if I’m really into it). I’m flexible, I like brainstorming with my partners, and if we get stuck, I don’t mind rewinding and finding ways of fixing it.
The blond wanted to leave, very much so, but the longer the silence extended, the more he felt like if something was going on, and not necessarily the good kind of something. For a moment, a little part of himself wondered if maybe Sakumo was just … Well, busy. With company, that is. For some reason, thinking like that about his own captain made him feel guilty.
He stopped in front of the tea room, swallowing around a suddenly uncomfortably dry throat, his hand hovering over the sliding, taking a deep breath before sliding the door open.
He saw several things at the same time- Sakumo, sitting in the middle of the room with his back to him, The smoothly marked muscles of it, scarred with old wounds and some he didn’t quite recognize, covered in a light sheen of sweat, and he might have less than decent thoughts about it (because yes, he was still young enough to do that sort of things without being able to help it), but there was also a sheath of a tanto right next to him, the cord aligned symmetrically to the polished wood and there was black stuff-
Blood his mind provided ever so helpfully It’s black because the Tatami soaked it in
And then he thought there was no saving no mats, no way, someone would have to replace them-