Night of the red moon.

[sakura_sheath]

WHO: Oriya and Muraki, surprise surprise!
WHAT: Meeting up and finding a place to stay for the night.
WHERE: The streets of Rivelata, and later on some form of housing.
WHEN: Late in the night

Comments

[twisteddoctor]

As he walked down the darkening streets, Muraki found himself conflicted as to his opinion of this place.

He did not like the idea of the control this Child-Queen held over him - she had easily snatched him away from his life, limited his magic significantly, as well as taken Oriya. He did not like the involvement of the one man who he'd managed to keep a long term relationship with. It was the closest thing to friendship Muraki had, though he wound never admit that the bond held any real importance beyond business.

However, the Child-Queen had also been a child for as long as people could remember. Which surely, an entire city must remember longer than the span of a few years. And even that - the typical human body would have aged noticeably even within that short time span. Did that mean that this girl held the key to immortality...? The perfect form he'd longed for

[sakura_sheath]

He heard a voice, not just any voice, HIS voice

[twisteddoctor]

It would be a lie to say he wasn't shocked to see Oriya in this condition. True, he'd rarely seen the samurai out of his native environment in Kyoto - one doesn't tend to get dirty or roughed up when in their own home. But now, he looked as though he'd come out the wrong end of a battle, and his kimono had suffered for it

[sakura_sheath]

"I'll survive." He was a samurai after all. The kimono was more of an embaressment than a discomfort. The geta were much worse, and he would be happy when they were finally off the stone streets. "If I had thought I was going to be taking a 'vacation' I would of dressed for it." Oriya had hakama for the few times he felt like wandering the streets and festivals. A thicker autumn kimono would would of been practical and fashionable. If the tailors of this place couldn't reproduce Japanese clothing, he would be very irate.

"I think I saw the clinic just down the street. The residential district is farther away, I'd rather just get inside." Oriya would die before he mentioned being cold, sore and underdressed as other motivators. Despite his torn kimono and messy hair, the samurai at least had the outward-confidence and body to pull off such a daring look. Maybe if he was lucky, it was scare the rest of the annoying white women from talking to him.