It had been years since Kara had heard from Kensai. She had heard of him of course, there wasn’t much she didn’t learn given enough time. She had been so wrapped up in the events of the attack on Moonspire that she had ignored mostly everything else. The news that Damien had met an untimely death had hit her hard, and she had uncharacteristically been feeling melancholy and in need of a friend. So as was appropriate she had sent a letter to Tetsumura with an invitation for Kensai to meet with her at the Heavenly Emporium.
This being her first visit to the impressive floating city she took her time wandering the streets and taking in the marvel of crafting that was undoubtedly Okane’s masterpiece. The buildings and streets were clean and orderly, beautifully embellished as was expected of The Grand Merchant, and she was grateful that the whole place was considered a neutral ground. She had had quite enough of death and danger, and was content to live in her grief filled peace for now.
She wore a black gown, floor length with crystals sewn into the skirt creating an asymmetrically designed pattern that was reminiscent of a star scape. She had left her parasols in Sunagakure, and since then had not created anymore. Part of her was subconsciously repressing any attachment she had to the Land of Wind. She had good memories of the desert, but the most recent ones were. . . unpleasant. And those had led to the most unpleasant revelation of all, the death of her love. She did however wear a shoulder wrap of black silk that draped down over her right arm, partially obscuring the fact that it was missing. In her distress before she had shown off the injury without any sense of tact, in a place like this though her instincts towards fashion and decorum made themselves known.
After she’d had her fill of being a ‘tourist’ she made her way into a small restaurant, the described meeting place, and was led to a quiet back room that she had reserved. It was morning, but that didn’t stop the blonde haired woman from ordering her favourite sake with instructions that she never be left wanting for the drink. She would sit and drink, lost in her thoughts, waiting for the arrival of her old friend.
This being her first visit to the impressive floating city she took her time wandering the streets and taking in the marvel of crafting that was undoubtedly Okane’s masterpiece. The buildings and streets were clean and orderly, beautifully embellished as was expected of The Grand Merchant, and she was grateful that the whole place was considered a neutral ground. She had had quite enough of death and danger, and was content to live in her grief filled peace for now.
She wore a black gown, floor length with crystals sewn into the skirt creating an asymmetrically designed pattern that was reminiscent of a star scape. She had left her parasols in Sunagakure, and since then had not created anymore. Part of her was subconsciously repressing any attachment she had to the Land of Wind. She had good memories of the desert, but the most recent ones were. . . unpleasant. And those had led to the most unpleasant revelation of all, the death of her love. She did however wear a shoulder wrap of black silk that draped down over her right arm, partially obscuring the fact that it was missing. In her distress before she had shown off the injury without any sense of tact, in a place like this though her instincts towards fashion and decorum made themselves known.
After she’d had her fill of being a ‘tourist’ she made her way into a small restaurant, the described meeting place, and was led to a quiet back room that she had reserved. It was morning, but that didn’t stop the blonde haired woman from ordering her favourite sake with instructions that she never be left wanting for the drink. She would sit and drink, lost in her thoughts, waiting for the arrival of her old friend.