Little light can penetrate brick, cement and steel. Forged to keep everything out, in an attempt to keep the wicked inside unforgivingly tight quarters. The scent of blood, of decay and bodily degeneration hangs unpleasantly in the air. It is something the serpent has the stomach for however, having endured worse scents, tighter confinements, more intimidating guards. If fear came from not knowing, the serpent could safely rule out that emotion while sitting in this room. They know how this works, they know the attempt in this dungeon will be to keep them frightened, in an attempts to keep them obedient and willing to confess.
Physical pain is not incentive for someone as stubborn and immune as the viper, mind tricks can not work when they are so ahead of the game, when they have witnessed interrogations throughout their youth and early adulthood. Now in their young thirties, the viper finds this entire game a little theatrical, perhaps even amusing. The way the guards skitter about them, the way the guards keep locked eyes on the serpent if any movement is made. Their golden eyes cut away at the darkness in a way not even the small mounted candles can, candles kept outside their cell, outside their reach. It makes the back of their prison pitch black, where only the front near the bars remains touched by the small flames.
They don’t mind the darkness either however, they don’t mind the threat of danger or torture, they don’t mind the company of the shinobi on duty, who should be terrorizing the Sannin for information, but are only serving to be terrorized by them instead. If war had any benefits, it was sure to show itself in moments like these, where a certain thick skin was there to fall back on. Hearing they had a visitor was quite the news, Hiruzen was yet to show his face since being there on the night of their arrest. The hope that the Hokage’s appearance would convince the serpent to come quietly. And quietly they had. Flippant about the cuffs wound around thin wrists, indifferent to seals branding ivory skin, amused at the sheer amount of ANBU who had accompanied Hiruzen. Although they did take brief offense at the mask strapped around their nose and jaw, restrictive leather with bits of copper, a glorified muzzle when such sharp fangs were still ripe with venom.
They have not realized their guest had arrived until he is before their cells door, so quiet was he in his approach. Should they expect anything less from the Shimura? When he stands before them, they rise to their feet, a confidently at ease smirk upon their lips hidden by the restraint. The sound of metal dragging and scraping against one another can be heard when they walk, and when they run their hand, slender fingers in contrast to ebony, through their long hair to rid it from their face, the guards nearby can be seen flinching. As if moments away from drawing a weapon, or from bracing for an attack. It earns a silken sound of laughter, as their eyes move from the guards back to Danzo, a knowing look that would expect him to acknowledge the pitiful attempts of this whole ordeal as they had.
“I’m not sure you’re the man I want to see when in need of a savior, Danzo-sama,” they say a little muffled with a playful jab, slender arms soon folded over their chest as they meet him at the gate, divided by aged metal, “but one ought to be less fussy in times like these, yes?”
They wait for Danzo to dismiss the on duty shinobi, knowing full well he had that sort of power, and waiting for him to demonstrate it. One of Konoha’s oldest and most highly ranked shinobi, it was no surprise to see that his order weighed in heavily. With how Hiruzen so naively trusted his friend, or actively chose to not see anything unfavorable, it is even less of a surprise that the Shimura may be called in for something so troublesome. Or perhaps, the vipers bitterness toward their Sensei is adding a little bias to their assessment of this situation. Now alone, and waiting for Danzo to indicate they are in fact alone, the serpent has free reign to speak. There is the possibility Danzo has been sent here to get information from them, information Hiruzen doesn’t know the man already has.
For who better to interrogate, coerce and terrify a Sannin than the more elusive organization of ROOT? And who was the most convincing threat of all, but Danzo himself? Certainly if one wanted to get the serpent talking, if one ever hoped to get a confession from someone as spitefully truculent as the viper, more reliable shinobi would need to be called in. It would be the only logical move the serpent can foresee. Yet, despite knowing this a likely possibility, they are perhaps, tricked by their youth and their years of working with Danzo in to thinking that order doesn’t truly need to grieve them any.
Because within golden eyes, Danzo is the one who supports their every action. Danzo gives them a place to exist without the judgements and limitations Hiruzen offers. Danzo is the one they believe, without any good evidence to support their belief, will save them.
For they are worth more alive than dead, for they know far too much about his organization to start having a loose tongue, for they know he knows how quickly the serpent returns an unkind favor.
“I made your job of getting me out of here as easy as I could,” they say, momentarily looking as if they might lean against the bars for support, when the chains threw off their balance and weighed a little too heavily. The quick assessment of the metals cleanliness however, has their face showing a brief flicker of a disgusted and displeased emotion, before they straighten themself out to rather stand on their own, “I didn’t give any of those incompetent guards extra work or hassle. Good behaviour must count for something yes?”
For if not, they had a lot of catching up to do regarding their usual antics.
