[Their rendezvous is a bent street sign in the pit of the city, one of the most rank streets that still has a name. Vines wind up the walls, until the two become indistinguishable. Takasugi waits with his pipe lit, dull ember the brightest glow on a cloudy, humid evening.
He'll be able to see Solomon coming - that idiot's probably wearing white again.
Regardless of the man's fashion choices, or of when Takasugi sets eyes on him, he offers little more than a nod of recognition in greeting.
A man stumbles from a nearby door, the structure almost completely hidden in overgrown foliage - and groans about his losses. They're near a gambling den, and it's that location in particular Takasugi intends as their venue for tonight.
. solomon
He'll be able to see Solomon coming - that idiot's probably wearing white again.
Regardless of the man's fashion choices, or of when Takasugi sets eyes on him, he offers little more than a nod of recognition in greeting.
A man stumbles from a nearby door, the structure almost completely hidden in overgrown foliage - and groans about his losses. They're near a gambling den, and it's that location in particular Takasugi intends as their venue for tonight.
Since their taste in food is so incompatible.]