"Welcome to Midpoint," Fuwa says wryly, leading his two companions into the small town. "This is where you're gonna be living for the next five years or so, apparently. There's food, places to stay at the Saloon, and people who don't want to kill you in a couple of days."
II. Saloon - OTA
You wouldn't think that somehow Fuwa would get injured between going to jail to collect the new players and coming back, but somehow he's managed to get a decent scraped-up bruise up the side of his left cheek, bright and fresh against his pale skin even after he's tried to clean it up a bit.
While he's never been a particularly social sort, he's never said no to company in the past few months; aggravating as all of this is, he does recognise the worth in having people not hate you on a regular basis, even if you'll fight them at the drop of a hat.
So he always sits at an open table when he eats, dropping his tooth-mark-pocked hat in its centre, and tending to keep his back to a wall; but if one of the older faces comes past he'll lean back in his seat, drape an arm over the back of it and pipe up casually: "What do you think of this new crowd so far?"
Isamu Fuwa | Kamen Rider 01 | Veteran player
"Welcome to Midpoint," Fuwa says wryly, leading his two companions into the small town. "This is where you're gonna be living for the next five years or so, apparently. There's food, places to stay at the Saloon, and people who don't want to kill you in a couple of days."
II. Saloon - OTA
You wouldn't think that somehow Fuwa would get injured between going to jail to collect the new players and coming back, but somehow he's managed to get a decent scraped-up bruise up the side of his left cheek, bright and fresh against his pale skin even after he's tried to clean it up a bit.
While he's never been a particularly social sort, he's never said no to company in the past few months; aggravating as all of this is, he does recognise the worth in having people not hate you on a regular basis, even if you'll fight them at the drop of a hat.
So he always sits at an open table when he eats, dropping his tooth-mark-pocked hat in its centre, and tending to keep his back to a wall; but if one of the older faces comes past he'll lean back in his seat, drape an arm over the back of it and pipe up casually: "What do you think of this new crowd so far?"