Thread: Moving with the Times [Goatse and Kawa and Japan, ohmy!]

The bustle of a foreign city, filled with unfamiliar smells and images and sounds, should have been a frightening one. Culture shock compounded with the unknown and being lost was, for most men, panic inducing, and the blond walking around stiffly, head and shoulders taller than the natives he passed, looked every bit the lost alien. Of course he stood out like, well, like a white person in a city full of Japanese. It would make his keepers?? search easy they could just ask ??Have you seen a very tall foreigner??? and everyone they spoke with would be able to answer in the affirmative. Because he was very tall and very, very foreign. He was freckled, with a wide, open face and wide, open green eyes. Blond hair was highlighted from being out in the sun, the same sun that had left his skin peeling in some places and he smelled, underneath his cologne, of stale sea water and close quarters. He was a handsome man, in a very foreign way that most Japanese would probably call ??ugly??, but then, the majority of Japanese had a reason to fear Westerners. Oh, he wasn??t stupid, even if his bugged out eyes and innocent ??I??m lost and confused?? expression one that could be found in every culture, though usually on children hinted otherwise. Part of his preparation, along with language study and schooling in an accent that wasn??t his own, involved inhaling the few accounts written about the culture. There wasn??t many, and the majority he could found had to be translated from Dutch, but even if he hadn??t have read about the xenophobia, he would have seen it in every face turned towards him as he passed, expressions ranging from wariness to downright dislike. ??Mr. Wilson!? The man turned back to see a rather chubby gentleman with a round face and a rounder belly. Ah. The trader. Mr. Wilson??s mind supplied the name ??Charles Baker??, one of the many faces he??d flash-memorized while he was locked in his room pretending to have a nasty case of seasickness. He bent nearly double, taking heaving breaths and wiping his ruddy face with a handkerchief, even removing his bowler hat to wipe at his balding scalp. Wilson smiled, relieved, and reached out to rest a hand on the older man??s back he took in the stony faced Japanese guard beside him, dressed smartly in very Western clothing. ??Oh, sir, I??m so glad to see you! You would be Mr. Baker, would you?? The subtle, fake Southern accent no longer sounded wrong to him, neither did the name ??Mr. Wilson??. The good Lord gave everyone a talent or four, and it was up to every man to find their use. The blond known currently as ??Cyrus Wilson?? had found his at an early age. One of them, the most useful now, was the ability to lie so well that no one ever thought he was telling an untruth. Most liars, after all, were fantastic at lying but awful at faking innocence Cy was fantastic at both. He reached out for a corpulent hand and shook it enthusiastically. ??Bless me, I thought I??d wandered right straight into the Labyrinth with no way out and no one to help.? Baker nodded solemnly, tucking his cloth back into his pocket. ??I understand, Mr. Wilson,? he said sympathetically, gesturing to his guard like they were butlers, not armed men, as he started leading their odd group further away from the docks and into a coach piled high with luggage. Cy hadn??t expected that, but he kept his tongue still though his mouth open slightly in a look of wide-eyed curiosity. ??When I first came here, I simply refused to leave the house of my patron for three days in an attempt to acclimate. The houses are so small, though, I ended up leaving just to get some fresh air. I say, it??s just miserable, the size of these places. And the food--? Cy nodded, every inch the interested acquaintance while he attempted to follow their route. They were being driven into more residential areas if the drop in noise meant anything unfortunately, he had no access to maps and had been told that Japanese cities were built with no thought towards their layout. He??d have to ??get lost?? again, to explore, because not knowing how to get to point A from point B without help of a guide was a dangerous matter. ??Ah, here we go.? Cy, like an excited little boy on Christmas morning, opened the curtains, peaking out. ??I??ve chosen a rather intelligent lad for your assistant.? The blond glanced back to the fat man, who smiled dotingly. ??I know you scientist types will probably be able to get by with just pictures and grunting, but it won??t do to have a fellow Southern son running about dumb in this city.? Ah. So that??s why he??d been given the accent it wasn??t just to cover up his own, but to earn sympathy with one of the men. Baker sighed heavily, pulled his bo?? derby back on, and said, ??Well, then. It??s best if we go and meet your host. Make sure you take your shoes off at the door. They get awfully angry about people tracking in dirt.?