Luca, Zeta, Allison, Echelon and their beats-heavy taxi driver had touched down near the Ishimura Heights Hotel was nearby. Carved into a marble stone and inlaid with black ink was the kanji for the hotel name, standing proudly in the middle of a fountain with four water spurts spraying inwards, creating a curved cube. Yamataian coins could be seen in the bottom of it from people who believed a wing and a prayer could be what saved them. Maybe they did, maybe they didn't - it bought them peace of mind though and maybe that was all they required.
"Alright here's the place - want me to get someun' to carry your luggage?" the taxi driver inquired, ears flicking a little as she turned the volume down for them now that the ride was over.
"It's fine, thanks," Luca replied as Allison and Echelon started walking from the back, past him and Zeta with their suitcases carried over their heads. They approached the gates of the hotel and waved to the valets and the busboys with wide smiles on their face. "You really made those two happy though."
"All part of the ride, friend," the taxi driver replied back. "You have yourself a good time, Mr. Hero." She then put her index and middle fingers on his right cheek, where the scars were. Luca's neck moved backwards a little as he examined the fingers and fingernails. "I don't care how banged up you look, you're still a hero to me."
Then Luca became aware of something. Since he arrived on Yamatai, he was able to figure out which people were travellers, and which ones remained earthbound. It was the dirty looks, the leers at the sight of imperfection. The Yamataians wanted everything to be perfect but it was a crying shame that the tourists, expatriates and their interstellar travellers could not.
Bronzi, Soruk, Sura, Reeves, Makari and Tani (in the Karaoke bar) could feel it in the air, that cloying feeling between disgust, curiosity and intrigue being flung their way, wavering between all of them. Gartagens were not perfect, Nepleslians and Geshrin were not perfect; nor were Nekovalkyrja soldiers with six months of leave and a good voice for karaoke. It was silent judgement from the older Yamataians, or perhaps envy for an eventful life from the younger.
At least for them, the hotel was in sight now, at the end of the street about a kilometre away. They could make out a yellow shape too, possibly the taxi that Luca and the others who weren't game to walk took. Between them and the hotel, to the left they could see a sprawling park cloistered . It was the Yamataian Imperial Gardens. The epitome of manicured perfection, walked through by the shiny, happy people who never suffered from skin problems, dental problems, cybernetic limb or organ replacements, old age or even doubt that they were living in a bloody lie. Tell them about the last one and it could make their head turn inwards.
Further past the gardens was the Imperial Palace, where the Yamataian Senate lived. Ten blocks away from and facing the Empress' palace, unable to escape its shadow even at noon. Men and women in uniform and suits were walking in and out of the Palace gates, guarded by the incredible military presence of Kyoto. What stood out among them was one senator with their left arm in a cast. A bald Nepleslian man in his early fifties. Imperfection on two legs in terms of career choice and looks, but he didn't care. He was trying to be happy no matter what others thought.
"Th-thanks," Luca replied as he passed her some banknotes, she counted them, and he gave him some change. He then exited the vehicle with his suitcase in one hand, and Zeta's hand in the other and together they walked towards the front desk along plush red perfect carpet. He pulled open his communicator and gave Enzo a ring, "Alright, I'll give you our room bookings in a moment, Enzo. I'm just waiting for the others to show up." He looked around the lobby and did not see his rogue. "Where are you anyway?"
The lady at the front desk had perfect ears, teeth, and a lovely smile, even if it was artificial. You just had to believe it was real as she bowed down, and not a single strand of her ruby red hair fell on her face. "Mr. Pavone, thank you for choosing the Ishimura Heights," he pulled his communicator from his ear and smiled at the woman without parting his lips and unsurprised that he was recognised that quickly. "Are you expecting company?" the clerk asked. He nodded back politely. "Then feel free to take a seat, wait and order refreshments."
So he did. As he sat down with an ice cold can of experimental Phoenix Energy! in one hand and his communicator in the other, he sent Seiren a message. "ETA for you and 'beka?" They weren't too far, their taxi was following Luca's diligently unless they'd requested a detour. Allison and Echelon had already gone inside and were sampling what the hotel had to offer them, going immediately to the massage facilities together.
