Street Samurai (Attn: anyone)

O-Yama
Obf 2

O-Yama leaves the Chapterhouse, and decides to make a patrol of the local area for the night. He is bored and doesn't have much else to do and so with that in mind he begins walking. His katana is obfuscated at his belt, as is a bullet-proof vest he wears. While not as protective as the armor he once wore in the past, it was a modern concession he would make. Some protection was better than none. He walks with a calm grace, his muscles loose and ready to fight, but fluid and able to adapt to any situation.

He didn't want a fight any more tonight than any other night, but he would be ready should one come. He hoped he'd run into someone he knew, but noone in particular.

Remy rests against the wall of the building, idly picking at some reddish-brown flecks that rest in between his gums and teeth. His attention is somewhat averted, however, when he sees someone exit the structure he's currently leaning on.

"Where you off to, stranger?" he asks, while staying still in his pose. He speaks with a very heavy Cajun accent. He then runs his fingers through his long brown hair to push it back over out of his face.

((I do apologize, my signature wasn't set to display. There it is.))

O-Yama stops as the weaker predator growls at him, and then he hears the man speak he stops, wondering who this fellow was.

"Stranger indeed... Are you new to the city?"

He grins. "S'pose you could say that."

He lifts his weight up off of the wall, allowing some locks of hair to fall back into his face, then slowly saunters towards the anonymous man before him.

Looking directly into O-Yama's eyes, he gives a charming smile.

"Name's Remy," he says as he stretches his hand out.

O-Yama lets his obfuscate drop for a moment, to allow his beast to roar at his little pup of a beast. He then puts it back up, smiling in return, and taking the man's hand in a strong shake.

"O-Yama, is my name, Nosferatu Priscus."

The grin on Remy's face looks like it's about to fade away for a second, then returns.

"Well, y' don't say. See, I'm just lookin' 'round for 'nother place to go. Bars an' what-not, they're my favorites. Like 'em much?"

He returns himself to a very casual, relaxed state after the handshake.

O-Yama notices the shift in his facial expression, and while its only momentary, he savors it.
"A bar would be most pleasant, though I prefer the Avalon, it is far more upper-class than any bar here in town. First though, have you been acknowledged here yet, if not, that would be priority before anything else we may do."

Remy runs his hand through his hair, leaving it on the backside of his head.

"Acknowledged? Sure haven't. It's that important?"

"Well, you can NOT get acknowledged, and if caught feeding, most likely be staked or sent away from the city, or you CAN get it done, be free to live as you please. I'll leave that descision to you...."

O-Yama says looking at him expectedly.

"Sounds important," Remy says, looking thoughtful on the matter, "Being as I kinda like this city an' all."

He raises his eyebrows and smiles charmingly once more.