[ Midnight's eyebrows lift as Tsurumaru Kuninaga takes the lead. It's whimsical, very sweet. (Midnight can no longer see his face unless he chooses to turn. Midnight understands this. He doesn't mind.) ]
Striking, isn't it? What a painting... or a poem. Like something you'd read in an old, old book...
[ He laughs a little at the wink, looks down. Someone who likes surprises, fun.
(Someone who doesn't want to be sad, to be seen too sad. But that's cheating, and anyhow, Midnight is the same, so it'd be terribly hypocritical to bring it up.) ]
My days tend to be fairly free. Let's meet once a week, barring interruptions by discourteous plants and any other manner of unpleasantries this place decides to bestow upon us.
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Striking, isn't it? What a painting... or a poem. Like something you'd read in an old, old book...
[ He laughs a little at the wink, looks down. Someone who likes surprises, fun.
(Someone who doesn't want to be sad, to be seen too sad. But that's cheating, and anyhow, Midnight is the same, so it'd be terribly hypocritical to bring it up.) ]
My days tend to be fairly free. Let's meet once a week, barring interruptions by discourteous plants and any other manner of unpleasantries this place decides to bestow upon us.