[Incomplete.]

[a_failed_god]

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

Comments

Hojo? Behaving? LAIZ.

[tenken_soujirou]

The snow had been trampled to slush here. Soujirou nearly went flying on a patch of ice that was nearly invisible, and paused to inspect it with some curiosity. It was then that he noticed the pair of sandals coming from yonder sidewalk.

Strange, he mused. Wearing geta in the middle of winter without tabi. Didn't the stranger's toes get cold? Perhaps it was some kind warrior training--

--somehow, as his gaze travelled from sockless feet to the stranger's face, he really didn't think so. Not unless the other was a retired samurai.

...Which was possible, given his garb. Soujirou had seen any amount of strangeness upon arriving in this city. Strange sights, strange creatures - he was oblivious to the blood still splattering the hem of his hakama, after a close encounter with a beast that had fancied him for dinner. The clock tower itself spoke of a different land, perhaps somewhere in the mysterious west, and the people here were of all cultures and nations, it seemed. And from all times. But here at last there was a flash of

This is such a shitty post, I'm so sorry. ._. Brain failure.

[a_failed_god]

... Just what he'd been hoping to avoid, but he supposed he ought not to be surprised. Right here in the middle of a street - if not one of the particularly busy ones - he could only hope to avoid curious eyes, and there were never any guarantees.

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

[tenken_soujirou]

Despite the words, there was a distinct aura of you're not welcome around the stranger. Or perhaps it was just him being paranoid? He was more used to killing people than making acquaintances.

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?"