やれやれ—

    @kujostaro   (big boy!!)

oh, this is just going to kill you!   twist  straw  between  painted  lips,   head  cocked  and  lithe  body  pushed  back  against  the  near  wall   –   you  watch  the  mountain  of  a  man  as  he  watches  the  shopkeep,   the  art  of  subtly lost on you.   interest  grows  with  each  passing  moment,  wracking  your  brain  for  something,   something!   –   oh,   it’s  just  too  rare  you find a familiar face! 

    “excuse me, sir?”     velvet  voice  tinged  with  thought,   boba  in  hand  waved  slightly,   push  off  and  approach brazen.     “mind if i walk with you a bit? forward, i know i know!– it’s just i’ve seen you before, i just… i can’t put my finger on it.”

look  between  object  of  attention  and  countertop.   smile,   point,   and  crank your neck.     “i’ll buy it for you, compensation in advance!”

UBE, BLACK TEA, NO ICE.  the cheery girl behind the counter rings him up with what he can only assume to be her best customer service face, and even the thought of smiling that much vaguely makes his jaw ache. maybe she’s just like that. that must be exhausting.

he’s already fishing the wallet out of his pocket when a voice sounds behind him, but jotaro continues thumbing through his cash like he hasn’t heard a thing. and he has, of course. he’s heard every word; from the sound of recognition to the offer to foot the bill. in fact, it’s only after that he hands over his payment, and a beat after that that he finally speaks;

❝  i already paid.  ❞ and he’s leaving, too, without the change he’s owed, boba in hand. he stops at the door, though, glancing back over a shoulder from the corner of an eye. ❝  you coming, or not?  ❞ 

‘ as much as that parlor trick must impress your fellow kin , i must sadly announce that i can see your stand. ‘

HE DOESN’T SEEM MUCH in the way of disappointed— especially for a man whose plans had supposedly come unfurled. ❝  good.  ❞ as stone-faced and immovable as star platinum behind him, jotaro holds his shoulders square, his hands firmly in his pockets. star slams a fist into his open palm. 

HE’S WORN WORSE IN THE AFRICAN SUMMER; in pakistan, in india. italy doesn’t get much hotter than japan, he’s noticed, and has much better gelato, besides. oh. he’ll have to bring jolyne.

jotaro doesn’t glance away from the map he studies, and he doesn’t miss a beat;

THE SIDE-EYE, THE SLIGHT SMILE that cheesy line earns might not seem like much to an outsider, but kiryu knows better. he always has. jotaro may as well have choked on his drink with how well he can read him, and he sets it down slowly, now, head turning leisurely to face him proper. 

the english pick-up was funnier. what was it again? feline a connection?

DID SHE JUST——  SPEAK?  samus aran, uttering even a single word? the mere thought stops him in his tracks, and his eyeline follows the motion of her hand, the puzzled gesture. and what does she choose to say in this moment? what great wisdom has she to share?

————HAT? she's asking about his hat?

HE was expecting them to be hot on his tail given how much of a panic his rude awakening had brought them. Maybe they were and his guard was down. After all, this man had managed to find him on this street - out of all the other one’s. STILL seemingly dull eyes move to visually inspect him. He wasn’t dressed like a usual agent maybe that’s why he didn’t pay mind to him. However, there was a vague familiar scent he picked up and it gave him a bitter taste. “….and who are you? Surely they aren’t as dimwitted to think a single man could bring me back to that hell?” he grumbles at his little remark looking down at simple black dress pants. He wouldn’t have been naked, but his old armor was old.