Who: Soujirou and Hojo (disguised as Sakaki).
When: Some time today~.
Where: The slippery streets of Purgatorium. ♥ Somewhere some distance away from the tower and the Shinra building.
Rating: PG-13, for now
Warnings: None, really! Even Hojo's behaving at the moment.
Summary: Soujirou, easily influenced by what might ensue in Purgatorium, runs into
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Hojo jolted at the voice, froze, instantly forgot his train of thought. The instincts kicked in to escape moments before his mind caught up with them, reminded him that there was nothing to fear. His disguise was excellent. Someone would have to be unnaturally astute to identify him beneath it.
... Well, it had seemed excellent until he turned to see that the man who had spoken was... dressed with uncannily similar taste. Well, that could be an issue. It'd been a long time since he'd been at Wutai, and the teachings of his home country had long since crumbled to dust in the passage of time, washed away along with so many other childhood memories by the aging process. If this person came from a place of particular similarity to it, he could only hope not to pique curiosity or suspicion with his behaviour. Already, he noticed a few little discrepancies between them, notably his lack of socks.
He frowned. No matter. No matter at all. Everyone arrived here a little tattered, and that would more than explain any little issues with his appearance.
"... Can I help you?" he finally managed. That was formal enough, surely.
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He bowed, a slight inclination at the waist, traditional to the hilt. "I apologise for the interruption, but I appear to be a little lost." Straightening, he managed the trademark smile, to hide the tinge of uncertainty he felt.
"Perhaps... would you be familiar with a place called Kyoto?"
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