[ Shirasu is heading through the festival, carnival, thing, on his way back to his apartment to get a new shirt. As a Fuuma, he doesn't feel the cold the way a normal human would, but even he is chilled walking around bare-chested.
But he recognizes the look on the pink-haired person's face -- he hadn't shown his awe so openly, but he had felt it, nonetheless. The traditional style of dress isn't an absolute indication of time period or nationality (or planet?) but Shirasu has an intuition that this person might be as much of a fish out of water among all this technology as he had felt. ]
Amazing, isn't it?
[ Pauses in his clothing quest to step up beside this person, pleasant and zen. ]
around the park
But he recognizes the look on the pink-haired person's face -- he hadn't shown his awe so openly, but he had felt it, nonetheless. The traditional style of dress isn't an absolute indication of time period or nationality (or planet?) but Shirasu has an intuition that this person might be as much of a fish out of water among all this technology as he had felt. ]
Amazing, isn't it?
[ Pauses in his clothing quest to step up beside this person, pleasant and zen. ]