Genji & Reaper, recunions and crankily spectating
Even in the year 2070, there were such things as Rennaissance fairs, themed restaurants, and movies featuring ladies and gentleman as well spoken as they were dressed. So while the festivities didn't unhinge the futuristic cyborg ninja's jaw in shock from behind the protective covering of his mask, he still boggled in private over the fascination with this particular time period. He'd always been partial to good hygiene and properly seasoned food, thank you.
Back when he could still enjoy food, anyway. Oh, how Genji missed a good bowl of ramen!
Several among the crowd had grumbled that his get-up didn't suit the theme, and though Genji wholeheartedly agreed with them, there was little to be done about it. Gleaming metal accouterments weren't part of some costume he'd donned just to be contrarian; they were now a part of him best not removed. He considered buying a feathered cap to make it look as though he was putting in some effort, at least. Then he thought better of it after reviewing his dwindling funds. Currently an unemployed ex-black ops agent, there was no room in the budget for frivolities.
The sun glinting off another mask in the crowd drew his eye. It was unusual, to say the least. Macabre. Fashioned to look something akin to a cattle's skull, but too finely polished to be made of bone. Typically speaking, Genji was neither sociable nor nosy enough to go up and introduce himself to a perfect stranger -- that was Jesse's role -- but something about this black-clad figure piqued his curiosity in earnest. He was too sinister a figure not to be overseen, bringing to life Genji's old habits of slipping into the shadows to gain insight into the actions of a potential threat.
Little did he know, he wasn't the only master of reconnaissance present that day. And, in fact, he probably couldn't beat a literal shadow at blending into the background.