[ to say ichiro yamada is pissed off would be an understatement.

the nausea? whatever. annoying, but nothing he can't deal with. the being-brought-somewhere-new-with-no-sight-of-his-younger-brothers? now that's infuriating. the initial panic drop of not being able to find jiro or saburo anywhere has left him not quite blinded by fury but certainly a whirlwind as he's moving through the government center, looking, looking, looking--

the first person he sees that looks even remotely similar in build to his brothers catches his attention, and ichiro jolts forward, reaching out to put a hand on your shoulder with a this close to angry-- ] Hey, wh--

[ ....nothing. he deflates, almost visibly, shoulders dropping. the panic in his eyes hasn't quite faded, and he switches gears quickly, asking, instead: ] I'm looking for my brothers. Jiro's tall, he's got two moles [ gesturing at his face-- ] and Saburo's younger, he's got hair like mine, they've both got different colored eyes, they're probably together--have you seen either of them?!

[ Panic TM ]

[ ichiro's obligatory panic as a brother has to be put aside when things start getting weird, though. freaked out as he is about his missing family, the part of ichiro that is, at his core, a hero and a helper kicks in when people are in trouble. he'd gone into fight mode the minute things started rattling.

so, if you're being attacked by a jellyfish, you may be in luck. there's a loud vwoom noise from somewhere down the vessel, and the jellyfish start to recoil back from some poor moonblessed's face. apparently, even these scary looking things have some kind of brainwaves, because a couple of spit rhymes from ichiro's mic (what's this shit look like to you, some kinda goddamn hentai? back it up 'fore i bust your guts, send this fucker sky high) get them to at least jerk backwards. he's up and moving before he has the chance to wipe them out entirely, sneakers thumping against the floor of the vessel as he gets between you and the onslaught of jellies, mic in hand, casting an impressive shadow of his speakers at his back. ]

[ mic to his mouth, he looks back at the moonblessed he got between, concerned. your hero has arrived. ] Hey, you okay--?

[ that worry is a hundred percent real. attention distracted, though, he hasn't noticed; one of the jellyfish is making it's ooey, gooey way towards his microphone, eager to latch on to this tasty piece of technology.

hm. you might want to point that out. ]

[ assuming that the conversation of family has long since been had, settling into lunatia is a strange experience. it's not... well, it could be worse. there aren't divisions, there's no chuuoku, he hasn't seen samatoki (or his brothers, but he's trying not think of it right now); this feels like he's been tossed into the plot of one of his favorite isekai.

right. well. solve the problem, get the girl, go home to his bros who won't even know he was gone. that much he can handle.

life goes on, even in an isekai. that means he's got to do basic things like grocery shopping, and it's when he's out for ingredients that he spots this brightly colored shop. it's so reminiscent of ramuda that his teeth start hurting just thinking about it, and, against his better judgement, he pokes his head inside.

of course, wandering around doesn't find ramuda. instead, he finds something entirely different: namely, a wall of costumes. he's standing in front of them with his chin in his hand, looking deeply at the details. the high cut leg, the iridescent colors, instead of the red, the window designed for cleavage... ]

Hmmm. It's kind of a knock off... this detail's from the Yamato... isn't the original more appealing anyway....? [ he's in fact standing in front of this display of sexy not quite evangelion plugsuits, muttering to himself, and contemplating their accuracy. ]

[ though originally ichiro came to the management of the boutique to ask a question about the accuracy of said embarrassing, nerdy plugsuit, the owner had spotted a kind young man and immediately honed in on him...which is how he's ended up here, helping out the owner of the shop. the manager begged--actually, genuinely, begged--that they were desperate for help, because they were so swamped with the suffering moonblessed and prismals, and ichiro's a softie more than anything else. so, here he is, looking like a fish out of water in this brightly colored shop, a shop apron tossed over his head kind of haphazardly. ichiro's not the type to leave anyone hanging.

...so, you can at first find him outside of the dressing room. it looks like he's collecting clothes people want or fetching new sizes, but at the moment, he's standing outside of one of the dressing room doors, back turned to them, and hand on his face. his cheeks are bright red, and he looks for a brief moment like he's contemplating leaving, staring at the wall across from him between the space of his fingers.

there's a giggle from the dressing room he's standing next to, and a noise that could only be described as lewd. the person inside giggles a, "noooo, come back, they fit fine, don't you want to see! they work soooo well, come help!"

...help him. please. ]

( other ideas? hit me up with them!! ichiro is 19, and potentially sanguis. ♥ )