Autumn Event, Tuski Style

Mission Details:

The village was in a state of optimalitic anxiety, due to the recent invasion. Much was destroyed, some beyond repair. These were troubled times indeed, not for the faint of heart or the somvee spoonwd who have needed needed before in their lives. These testing times proved just how fickle life can be, and that all should appreicate what little they have. However, the silver lining to it all tool the form of a mini festival; a bread and circus tactic to help soothe a distract the masses from the violent errie infamous day the portals manifested from above. The only problem, was that it took two to tango in this particular dance. Although the village higher ups arranged this to happen, despite the admin building destroyed, it required some willingness of the many citizens to get ahead of the this and look towards the future.

A thick veil of grey smoke was pushed out after taking a long pull from one of the many pre rolls within the MaDKat‘s… arsenal? He leaned against the wall, of one of the few still intact market and supply stores. His eyes scaned the area, taking note of the festivities. Huge Posters and gawdy decorations of all shapes and sizes was littered all around what was left of the village. He stood there, watching the moon people tryin to act like none of this happened, when indeed it very much did happen. Hell, Katsuragi risked his own hide defending the village. And all he got, was his doing swept right under the wrong. He felt like he needed to say something, or get something atleast? A statue here or there…

Katsuragi's attire consists of a Yakuta black leather jacket, altered to that of a vest. The inner workings still functional with no hindrance. Underneath his vest, he wears a navy blue hoodie. His belt is black leather, designer's choice, with an overlapping LV emblem as a buckle. Attached to the right side of his belt, a knife holster to which Bushranger(An ANT knife) rested in. The locking strapped to keep it in the holster was buttoned in, although easily retrievable with a willful draw.

His shoes were bright in color, the Dreadful Oni SBs. His pouches are covered by his hoodie, but are still accessible with ease. His pants being that of a fresh pair of black stretch jeans with ankle zippers located on the lower inside section of the pants. His hair, still vivid, was a solid dark purple. His hair in contrast with his pale skin, however, his arms torso and hands bore a mural of mostly assorted prison tattoos; all black ink in color. His most notable tattoo, aside from his spiderweb tattoos that indicate that he has served time in Pelican Island, was his Jashinist Symbol that is stamped on the right side of his neck. He himself stood at a height of 6'2 feet with a thin frame. His other tools and such were also assorted evenly along his attire, given no hint to their whereabouts yet allowed him easy access with a little bit of technique due to his skill with the hidden arms technique.

After taking yet another long pull from his pre roll, he puts it out and waltz into the market.

He couldn’t explain his reasoning for being in front of the market, perhaps something ethereal maybe? All he could tell you, was that he was pulled here through the strings of fate. Plus, where he was standing was perfect for shade due to the awning.

Immediately, the shop owner rushes to him. His figure was questionable, walking probable cause at this point, due to his leafy green aroma teaming from his body. “Why are you, man who destroy main st!”, a reference to the invasion. It wasnt entirely his fault, he was chased by a hungry demon hell hound. “Maaaan, get back! Wait, what’s that?”, the two glare over towards an old beaten up ordinate lantern of truth. He had to know what possible national treasure was this? There he stood, now in the middle of the store, being chastised by the store owner to buy something or get out.
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WC/ 697