Lotti-mun get out. HE ALREADY LOST HIS HAt.
“I care not what people say about me.”
She says almost immediately as if she was expecting the other to come up to speak to her. A Japanese? Yes, well, he seemed to speak well and despite her lack of confidence in her pronunciations, she was slightly comforted by the idea that she wouldn’t have to learn a new language here. At least, not yet anyway. This dashing man seemed to be a fighter. Vorona was certain of it.
She wasn’t sure what to make of him yet. An ally? A foe? The young woman was itching for some action, a fall back habit she harbored when she was feeling uneasy. Not even looking at her seating, she sat, her gaze set completely on the man in front of her.
“Good philosophy to go by.”
The Italian chuckled some, shaking his head before placing the lit cigarette back between his lips to give it one last drag, then tossing it aside without a second thought since it was out anyway. An easy exhale.
His Japanese was only fluent because of the frequency of which he visits the place, he had too many business there which is why he even decided to learn it in the first place, speaking only Italian in a Japanese-predominant place would’ve been a disadvantage.
Too bad he was a bit rusty with that language, she seemed to have difficulties with Japanese. But now that she was closer, he could definitely tell that she was trained. Callouses in the right places told him that she’s well trained in firearms, the way she held herself said a lot as well. It spoke volumes of power, and he entertained the thought of whether or not she’d match up to him. Good thing he wasn’t a reckless hot head, otherwise they would already be in crossfires.
In this place there were so many strangers. More than usual. She quietly observed the sea of faces, memorizing each and every feature of all the individuals faces. Some were from her world, she remembered them, and some she was unfamiliar with. This place wasn’t Japan nor was it Russia. She was certain this wasn’t even Earth with it’s lush scenery and abundance in seemingly ancient civilization buildings.
Nevertheless, Vorona continued to stand her ground from a distance, ready to talk to anyone who was willing to give her the time of day and explain to her just where exactly she was and what her purpose was in being here.
Days were going by, an uneventful one after the other. Needless to say there was an interesting week not too long ago, but it seems whatever contaminant there was in the air was gone at this point and everyone was relatively normal.
The hitman would be found lounging on one of the benches, hunched over slightly with a lit cigarette between his lips, elbows rested on his knees while his eyes lazily scanned the crowd. It seems some of the people come and go, there are unfamiliar faces, and some he’s seen here and there but never really talked to. He doesn’t have to, there wasn’t this urgent need for him to associate himself with others.
Of course, there would be a certain few that would spark his interest. Experienced fighters, he’s seen a few of them already. One who’s trained themselves to their peak and withstood trials upon trials. The blonde not too far away from him caught his eye— years of experience has given him the ability to gauge someone’s ability with a glance. And his instincts told him that she had skill, maybe a little rough around the edges but she still looked rather young.
He leaned back in his seat then, exhaling the smoke softly before tapping the ashes to the ground by his side, calling out to the girl who was doing the same as he was; people watching. Only this time he was sizing her up, to see that maybe he shouldn’t find himself in her bad side. Maybe. He couldn’t help what he said half the time.
“People might start talking if they see you standing around staring them down like that, you know. Take a seat.”
Close enough, this was probably as courteous as he’s going to get.
“I am quite sure that won’t be necessary.” Magoichi countered, a mild smile curling at the corner of her lips as the considered for a moment what kind of day that would be. “Though I must ask…should such a misfortune arise, what would the penalty be?”
Not that the said misfortune could ever befall her due to carelessness. No, it would have to be quite deliberate. Although Magoichi did not find herself inclined to test this man’s patience where his beloved hat was concerned.
“I’ll leave that up to the imagination.”
He won’t go overboard, it was a hat and he knew that much, but still there’d still be a punishment for every nick he finds in the hat, or if it’s returned to him dirtied or in tatters. Of course, Leon could always make him a new one but he wouldn’t necessarily say that he could replace his fedora. It was his favorite one so far after all.
“And trust me when I say I can be creative.”
A promise, but he’s a bit light-hearted about it because of his tone, but the underlying context says otherwise.