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View character profile for: Tojiro Yamamoto
First Flight, part 2. Day Four, morning.
The evening had gone very well. Twelve fine bottles of wonderful ambrosia for his upcoming trip had been purchased. As expected the quality of the liquor had left little in the way of any early morning regrets. After an hour of exercise with the heavy Kendo practice sword he washed and prepared for the day.
There were still a few details to attend to, one of importance, transportation.
His new found acquaintances from the tavern had suggested several ships scheduled to be flying out in the next few days. How they had found this information with a few taps and slides on their data pads he still found magical, though his recent experiences told him this was a common ability.
Yamamoto dressed in the loose wool trousers and the matching gray shirt under the heavy long deep blue coat. He had the pistol strapped under like he’d been taught and just carried the short sword in his belt.
A first stop at a large freighter hauler or some such left him unimpressed. It was too large, an empty thoughtless giant box, though why that was a disappointment for him he couldn’t quite decide. Still, instinct on such matters was more important than any internal debate.
The next ship was of a more interesting design. Instead of the huge steel squares and rectangles of the freighter, this ship seemed to have some sort of insect mimic in its design. It seemed to squat in a comfortable and ready position. Relaxed and yet ready to take flight.
Tojiro approached in a short circular manner, his interest on the feet, the three clawed appendage at the end of one of the front four legs. He stopped and reached out and stroked the steel support, looked up. From the closer vantage point it looked... she... she looked.... someone had told him ships were women. Why no one quite explained, but she looked like a beast now, powerful neck and dangerous head extended out, the engines like two flexed limbs ready to erupt in destructive anger. And the back, powerful and thick, deep and strong in its core.
He looked her over again. Smiled. Scratched his chin with an admiration and walked to the front cargo door. With a soft human fist her pounded on the thick metal skin.