@charisnigma | Starter Call
╼▣⟦The underbelly of the great Hive City is as Fushimi had expected it to be: dark and dangerous looking as hell.
It’s a wonder then how the hell Fushimi ended in the deepest, darkest pits of this goddamned hellhole. Not that he minded, honestly, because at this point this whole fucking place is just hell and it still irks him to no end that he’s not gotten resources fast enough for his liking. It could be to do with the fact that he’s still lacking important information about the city—he’s not been out enough for days, having chosen to bury himself under the blankets of his bed. Which is why today he’d forced himself to get out and do something, lest he prolong his stay in this place (and he does not want to stay around long enough to find out what kind of shit storm this place will stir).
Armed only with his wooden knives (that he’d managed to sharpen down to a pointed end, hopefully enough that it’ll cut), he slipped on his clothes, strapped on his boots, and headed out the door.
Somehow, Fushimi’s feet manage to lead him underground—a place that is often full of unbridled information of all kinds—and he hopes that at this moment it’ll hold just as true in Hive City as it usually did in movies and back in Tokyo. With an annoyed sigh, Fushimi resumes his walk once more, minding the dripping pipes and the unevenness of the cement floor beneath him. There’s silent whispers that he can pick up—probably from the back alley dealings that’s occurring right now and the occasional shops that have set themselves up here. He wonders briefly if there’s a black market that exists within the area. He adds this to his mental checklist for things to look for later on.
As he continues to walk, the dark-haired man comes up to a stop when he notices a stranger leaning against a wall and from what Fushimi can discern from the dim light, the stranger seems to be garbed in a neon-like green outfit. This pushes Fushimi’s brows further in slightly and he presses his lips into a thin line (even though the stranger hasn’t noticed him as of yet). If Fushimi decides to walk further on, he has a feeling this stranger is going to call him out. Fushimi toys with the idea—although he’s not sure if the stranger will give him what he wants without some sort of exchange.
But it seems the decision makes itself for him when the stranger’s head swivels and meets his eyes momentarily. There’s something like a shadow of a smile that comes up on the stranger’s face and this unnerves Fushimi as he places his hands in his pockets, turns his expression into something surly while he mentally and physically prepares himself for all kinds of possible interactions with the other person. There’s movement from the stranger and Fushimi braces himself for the worst that could come—it never hurt anybody to be prepared after all.