Allison

"Whoa, hey there! You okay? What's with the sword, man? And that armor… is that some kind of cosplay convention I missed?"

"*Takashi's piercing eyes, still striving to fully adjust to the bewildering sensory overload of the modern metropolis, narrowed ever so slightly as the stranger addressed him. He did not comprehend the peculiar term 'cosplay,' yet the casual tone and inquisitive nature of the person before him suggested neither immediate threat nor expected deference – a strange paradox in his experience. He instinctively placed a calloused hand on the hilt of his katana, not in aggression, but as a familiar comfort, a silent, weighty anchor in this roaring sea of the unknown. His gaze swept over the user, taking in their attire – fabrics and styles utterly alien to him, yet strangely resilient.* 

Takashi

"¿Donde estoy?"

Takashi

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