Into the City. What Can Be Found Here? [NR. Open]

This place was... strange; so different from the rest of the world he'd ever seen. His clan knew of the city at the base of their mountain home, but few had ever traveled here. He could see why, now. Everything was.... white. Too clean, too sterile. Nothing was this white in nature; even the rock walls felt fake. To find this much marble without any defects or impurities... it boggled the mind. The limestone... it was almost whitewashed. Disconcerting, to say the least. The people however, they didn't seem to notice. Almost like this was normal to them. Maybe it was; maybe they really had no idea the world outside the walls wasn't like this. Who knows?

Then again... maybe they just didn't notice anything. His cloak was black, his clothing black, his skin far darker then that of the natives. Everything about him was instantly and obviously different; but no one so much as glanced at him. Strange... very strange. He could feel his body warming slightly; it was a natural, unconscious reaction to anything that could be dangerous; stoking the fires of his nature and leaving him ready to defend himself if needed. A slight tang in his mouth; his natural poison was flowing thicker. His body was ready for a problem to arise.

With any luck, he would be able to calm down his natural reaction and not be quiet so dangerous to any poor enforcer or citizen that decided to attempt to stop and question him. More then one poor soul had made the mistake of grabbing his skin or hands without warning and ended up poisoned or even dead. He carried a few antidotes to his natural poisons; some where easy enough to counter. However, there where some that where nearly, if truly impossible to counter without some sort of magical or divine interference. The heavy metals in their blood where easily lethal to humans, but it was a slow, painful death that few deserved; even more so the souls that where just doing their jobs and acted to quickly.

He should put on his gloves, just to be safe. He reached into his sash, close to where his hammer hung and retrieved his current set of gloves; thick leather and almost brand new. Almost being the key word; you could easily see where they had been worn down the most; the tips of his fingers and palms where his hammer was held. The toxins leaking from his finger tips tended to eat through the tips of gloves, and the friction from the hammer strikes would eat through the palms. Eventually the poisons in his sweat would eat the rest of the gloves; leaving them little more then useless clumps of frayed leather in less then a year usually. This pair was roughly 5 weeks old and already showing the first signs of degenerating; darker spots at the finger tips and fraying in the palm. Too bad, he rather liked this set. They where very supple and soft, and felt wonderful when worn.

Alright... now that he was... marginally safer to be around; he needed to find out if there where any blacksmiths around. Or at least, some kind of metal dealer. If he could find that, he'd be in business. He could set up a shop for a little while; enjoy some rest while he figured out where to go next. Yes, that should work wonderfully. Otherwise, he'd need to start breaking down the walls for materials. Stone, metal, who cares. It was all within his talents to mold into something he can sell.

Haikyo had taught herself to believe nothing of what she heard and only half of what she saw; and with that lesson in mind she walked down the streets of the white city - knowing that there could or could not be a lab like the one she was created in hidden somewhere behind one of these white walls.

She had changed back into her human sixteen-year-old looking form - something that was second nature to her - in a matter of seconds after having landed in one of the cities many back alley's. She didn't want to draw unwanted attention to herself; her long red and orange hair and fire filled eyes did enough of that already, not including her super-heated body temperature, and darkly tan skin from so many hours in the glorious sunlight. Her outfit for this venture was simple; a pair of light orange baggy light cotton pants, and a shirt made of much the same material and color that went halfway down her thighs and whose sleeves were in a bell design that went slightly past her elbows with slits on the outer sides that revealed her arm beneath the sleeve. Her feet were in light orange colored flats; since she figured walking around barefoot like she preferred would bring more attention to herself. Her hair was back in a long braid that started as twin braids on both sides of her head and that then formed into one big one.

As she exited the mouth of the alley way, no longer worried that she'd be seen as anything but human by the humans at least, she ventured down one of the many streets; slowly. She took the time to look around with her fire filled gaze; making mental notes of everything and anything that she saw; especially as she came across the figure dressed in black and the younger looking boy nearby who seemed to be speaking to him. She slowed her walk, her body temperature flaring as her curiousity spiked - causing the air around her to heat as well and shimmer in the sunlight.

Oh... maybe the locals did pay attention to what was going on. The sounds of a voice not whispered and reverent and sounding like they where attempting to speak in prayers at all times; it was welcomed in a way.

Wait... why was he assuming the locals where religious? Too much time near human religious structures; seems he needed some time away from humans to regain his perspective. Oh, he should likely respond to the new male; it was only polite. What was it he'd asked again...?

"Hey, mystery cloak persona~ You a tourist too, or are you just tried of conforming to the norm here?"

Huh. Strange vernacular. He did claim to be a tourist, maybe this man was from a place he hadn't visited yet; there wasn't much of an accent that he could recognize, but given all humans sounded the same to him... well, that meant little.

"The norm? If you refer to the stark white preferred by the natives... that is not my way. I am merely a traveling blacksmith, looking to set up shop. My dress is nothing more the common to my trade."

He was suddenly rather glad he'd donned his gloves; something told him he might end up needing to extract himself from a situation sooner rather then later; but just what that feeling was referring too he did not know. He was usually fairly adept at reading body language, and was familiar enough with general human customs; in this part of their wold hand shakes and physical contact weren't normally exchanged; but this male had identified himself as a traveler; a tourist, he called himself. He could well be from a place that did; and an accidental poisoning was not on Houjin's list of tasks for the day.