sukaism
「♛ 」—» A soft sigh escaped through pallid lips as flame-colored eyes surveyed the street before them, the groups of people milling along normally parting around the lone figure standing still with irritated mutters and venomous glances. Truly, though, they couldn't blame him for the sudden stopping and staring. This place was... foreign. Glass gleamed in every window, refracting the light and dazzling the streets beneath with silver beams that pierced the back of one's eyes. The street was perfectly level, and the buildings soared high above the man's head. It was an amazing sight, one that almost took his breath away. Giotto had seen many sights of great beauty in Italy, but never had he seen something as amazing and unfamiliar as the place he found himself in now. It made him feel almost overwhelmed.
A frown curled the side of the mafioso's mouth downward as his eyes swept the crowd, this time taking in the details of the abundance of people around him. They all seemed to be from entirely different places; different clothes, features, and some didn't even look human. It was like a child had thrown all his toy figures in together without seeing which went where. It was a rather surreal feeling, seeing all this different in the same place, and all of it completely unfamiliar.
Until suddenly, it wasn't. Orange eyes caught the glint of an almost-familiar shade of brown hair, the way it spiked like looking in a mirror. It made Giotto's eyes widen a fraction of an inch, head swinging around to seek out the figure of a teenage boy. He did look familiar. Who was...?
" Boy, " a soft voice asked, a few steps having taken Primo in front of the younger male. " Do I know you? "