knifedindunwall:
Daud spits the apple on the ground as the birds untie him, his hair dripping water into his eyes. One of the birds passes him a towel and he puts his face in it. His shirt is drenched. All that and he still lost.
“Are you from London?” he asks the stranger, speaking loudly over the commotion of the dance and the jaunty fiddle tune playing in the barn (it reminds him a little of the street music back in Karnaca). “I’m Daud. Heard someone with an eye patch was bothering a friend of mine who lives here.”
The man does look dangerous enough to have killed the Mayor, dark-clothed and serious even surrounded by colorful birds and looking like he just fell in the river.
“London? Oh, not at all; I’ve never even been there. I’m from Japan.”
A bird hands Shokudaikiri a towel as well, and he dried his face and hair. His suit is still wet and he prefers not to imagine how his hair looks (he must find a mirror immediately), but he decides there’s no point in acting petulant about it. Instead he smiles at Daud.
“I am Shokudaikiri Mitsutada, formerly wielded by Lord Date Masamune. I’m afraid I don’t know who’s been harassing your friend, but I can’t imagine there are many people with eye patches here. If you like, I can let you know if I see anyone matching the description.”
Shokudaikiri rubs his eye to get the last bit of water out, then gives Daud another look. Despite his gruff demeanour, he may turn out to be good company — and Shokudaikiri has hardly met anyone so far, so he’s getting a little desperate to get to know more people.
“Perhaps we can look around this festival,” he says. “There’s quite a large crowd here, and besides, I’m rather curious about the other attractions. I hope they won’t require me to get my hair any wetter, though.”










