06-10-2017, 02:13 AM
Takezo genuinely liked this man. The intensity of joy that he read upon this man's face was that of a warrior before battle. A true warrior, one not pondering over survival, but focused on victory and goals. Takezo may not win; he did not even consider this a goal. He was here for reconnaissance. Strong primes. Weak primes. Warriors. Peons. He may not be looking for allies to always have his back - he sought to rise above the need for such a thing - but the idea of finding like minded individuals thrilled Takezo. Mitahachi was one such fellow - happy to dance with a sword in a rain of blood.
Like minded with their own end game - if Dust wanted to be the a master of his own martial art, he doubted the beastly-grinned man would pick up a sword and challenge Takezo. "To be honest... all I saw of the place was a few buildings and a tent. I've only been in this world for... five hours... six... I can't tell anymore." The thought made him chuckle. He had not even been here a day and he had lost track of time. He could not just walk outside and see the sun, and even if he could... the magic portal and Nexus made time difficult to gauge.
His sharp ears perked a bit at the excitable conversation from across the room. It took a brief moment, but he eventually figured out what the topic was about. It made the ronin laugh aloud. "They are discussing the name of their little gathering. They act like children playing tag. If we were not preparing to cut them down, I would scold them." He shovels another amalgamation of foods into his mouth.
It seems he was staring at Abyss... The creature was by far the strangest. He could almost understand Bendy, he looked like a yokai given life by the nightmare of lazy calligrapher. Amusingly, the tale was common amongst young Samurai, though it mainly taught one to never leave an inkstick in water. Though the gloves and bowtie were... a strange edition. In the myths, the yokai would be much larger, slimmer, and dripping with wet ink. There was no squid-faced yokai tthat he knew of.
"I wonder how land-borne calamari would taste..." Nevermind the moral issue, he was considering the edibility of a squid that had been out of water for so long. He could not imagine how dry the creature would be. Would it still have the familiar chewy texture? "Would you just eat the tentacles, or... the whole thing? If it only has one heart when we kill it, I claim it." Yet another mouthful of various foods are shoveled into his mouth. It was difficult to guess if he could even taste anything he mixed together, or if the mixture was just that good of an experience. Then again, he might not even be paying attention to the food on his plate at the moment.
Like minded with their own end game - if Dust wanted to be the a master of his own martial art, he doubted the beastly-grinned man would pick up a sword and challenge Takezo. "To be honest... all I saw of the place was a few buildings and a tent. I've only been in this world for... five hours... six... I can't tell anymore." The thought made him chuckle. He had not even been here a day and he had lost track of time. He could not just walk outside and see the sun, and even if he could... the magic portal and Nexus made time difficult to gauge.
His sharp ears perked a bit at the excitable conversation from across the room. It took a brief moment, but he eventually figured out what the topic was about. It made the ronin laugh aloud. "They are discussing the name of their little gathering. They act like children playing tag. If we were not preparing to cut them down, I would scold them." He shovels another amalgamation of foods into his mouth.
It seems he was staring at Abyss... The creature was by far the strangest. He could almost understand Bendy, he looked like a yokai given life by the nightmare of lazy calligrapher. Amusingly, the tale was common amongst young Samurai, though it mainly taught one to never leave an inkstick in water. Though the gloves and bowtie were... a strange edition. In the myths, the yokai would be much larger, slimmer, and dripping with wet ink. There was no squid-faced yokai tthat he knew of.
"I wonder how land-borne calamari would taste..." Nevermind the moral issue, he was considering the edibility of a squid that had been out of water for so long. He could not imagine how dry the creature would be. Would it still have the familiar chewy texture? "Would you just eat the tentacles, or... the whole thing? If it only has one heart when we kill it, I claim it." Yet another mouthful of various foods are shoveled into his mouth. It was difficult to guess if he could even taste anything he mixed together, or if the mixture was just that good of an experience. Then again, he might not even be paying attention to the food on his plate at the moment.