(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v222/Morkael/Ruki_088_zps7c10d5bf.jpg)<br/><strong>Name:</strong>Katsu Koga<br/><strong>Location:</strong>In SUV<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Friday evening, 1800<br/><strong>With:</strong>Guys<br/><br/>New clothes at last, Katsu was happy for the least, to be wearing something other than the common jumpsuits that everyone else wore. Happy to the extent that he didn't shy from getting changed then and there.  If there was anything he adored the most, it was standing out. Though right now his odd tastes for fashion were tamed, the last thing he needed was any raised brows thrown his way. Luckily he got one of the bags with the cuffs, something he didn’t mind to have either at his side. A scalpel or other sharp blade would be much more preferred,  but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Quietly he slipped the cuffs into one of the pocket sleeves of his suit. “What about the hat, you think it looks good on me? Me with the hat.”He begun, adjusting the fedora, before removing it. “Me without the hat. Me with the hat.” He ended up putting it back on, ruffling his brown locks in the process. “Me without the hat.”<br/><br/>By the time the guns were introduced he had stopped his current shenanigans. The hat was currently removed, being twirled absentmindedly along his index finger as he studied the weapons. “Not I. Guns are often too noisy. Good intimidation, though. I’ll be likely to shoot one of  you in the foot or myself with such things and I doubt anyone wants that. Though I always wanted to be a cowboy..” His voice hummed, clearly amused with himself as he lifted the hat back up and slipped it over upon his head. His index finger tipping the end, bringing the fedora to dip down over his right eye as he added in a more serious note. “Or an American gangster.”<br/><br/>His hand extended, though not for the remaining gun, instead for something else that the weapon handler may have. “If you have a blade, I will gladly take it. A switchblade, preferably, but a knife will always do.” Katsu did have a way with sharp things, enough to the point of parting with the cuffs he had just to be able to practice his cuts once more. His attention drifting to the others, curios of just how much he can trust them and if such things were mutual.