John
Kokuto had been given word that another arrival was imminent. The baleful stare the old housekeeper had leveled on her had cowed her reluctance to do anything about it this time. The older servant had caught onto how the alchemist did not see the social strata that separated the working classes from the samurai and nobility. Besides, the little apothecary owed the older woman for all the times she had nearly blown up, burned down, or drowned the embassy building. She did not acknowledge the ominous feeling that she would regret such concessions ||Divination 1||.

The summer heat beat down upon the austere building, leading all who could to retreat inside. Kokuto sat in an interior room and fanned herself slowly, a clay pot with a cool infusion of tea sat ready to be enjoyed. Sunburst stylized flowers bloomed over the dark, plain hakama she had stolen to allow movement in the summer yukata. There was no overt sign of her status as a samurai while she sat waiting for this new arrival. 

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Jose
Young Atsuko was a little starry-eyed by her very nature, but whatever it was that she had been expecting as she entered the confines of the building, it wasn't *This*. There was no one to announce her arrival, no herald that proceeded her, but that was okay. That would've made her uncomfortable anyway.

By her dress she did identify herself as a Dragon, but certainly not overly so - no flashy mon other than a few small golden accents that would identify her as family. She wore a pale green outer kimono, so pale that in certain lights it didn't look green at all - yet at the same time it was prestine, clean, perfect. In point of fact, virtually everything about her cried out respectable and pure and fastidious about her appearance. She wore a series of obi over her layered kimono that made her look as though she certainly *Should* Be sweltering. And yet she didn't show any sign of suffering from heat fatigue.

As she entered, she bowed low - lower even than the situation perhaps really demanded, holding her hand against the hilt of one of her weapons at her hip so that it behaved appropriately into her bow. With her head still hung low, she spoke out loud, not particularly directing her voice in any direction, but instead speaking to the space and to whoever may hear.

"Good day, I am so sorry to disturb you with my presence. I am Kitsuki Atsuko of the Kitsuki school. I am here to present myself to the relevant Dragon Clan authorities here within the city, so that my skills may best benefit the glory and honor of our clan's standing under the divine empire of this splendid land."

Still she did not stand, but this speech she had just given, oh - without any question whatsoever it was obvious that she had rehearsed it a thousand times. One could imagine her on the road into the city repeating to herself this opening speech over and over again until the words came so very naturally to her that it was as easy as breathing.

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John
The fan stirred the air with a lazy insistence. "Fwuagh! So polite you are! Kitsuki Atsuko is a pleasure to be meeting to this Agasha Kokuto. Come. Sit. The tea is cool and refreshing," The alchemist exclaimed, greeted, then offered in a singsong chant. She waved one hand at the cushion before the little tea table before pouring both cups. "Being hot it is outside. Travel is parching thing. Come, come, sit! This one's back be aching just looking at you. For ceremony this one is not needing," She muttered the quip about her back in just audible tones, as if it were thought spoken aloud instead of intended words.

"Happy we will be to be having investigators. Could have been using one longer ago. Alchemists make for poor hunters of clues and solvers of puzzles unless they be of a more inert kind," She smiled kindly at the young woman before her, obviously intending for them to have shared some private joke.

"Glory and honor be fine things indeed, but answers this one would settle for instead." She chuckled to herself. Kokuto was well pleased with how she was managing this meeting. This courtly stuff was obviously like resinous pills within her skilled hands ||Courtier 0, Etiquette 1, so this is her being slightly delusional||. *Obviously that old hag,* She meant delightful housekeeper, *Knows what she's doing. I shall write that she needs a raise.* Off her attention went, chasing down accomplishments she had no skill in with frightful ease, as her dark eyes glazed over with a look that seemed to pierce all the way through to the High House of Light itself.