[ He... has no idea what any of this means. Volleyball, Roombas... the questions pile on without any sign of letting up. The tales are much more understandable but just as strange. Why would anyone mud-wrestle a god? And what is an idol? Scrolling through the screen is a little inconvenient with his right hand-- in the shape of a white dragon's claw. He seems to favor that one nevertheless. ]
We ought to simply break down the door, rather than play along with these confusing terms. It is unjust to toy with those who have already lost their memories in such a manner. [Huff huff!]
Also, I refuse to play along!
II. Game Time
[WHY MUST HE GET SOMETHING SO EMBARRASSING!? How is he supposed to succeed at this? He doesn't mind the cape, although the hat seems a little much. But there were other options that would have been infinitely easier then what happened to pop out for him.
. . . If he wants to get anywhere he has to do something, though, right? Hands lifting he slaps his cheeks. This is nothing to blush over...! Even so, he can't seem to calm down. Heart hammering he approaches an individual (because what is being stealthy), and begins his mission.]
H-Hello... [It's a start.............] Do you have a moment?
III. Fanmail
[What is this mess. . . ? He just stares, blue eyes sweeping over the mess that has fallen from the elevator. Piles upon piles of letters litter the floor, and to his astonishment, some are addressed to him. Ah...
He picks one up, and carefully tears it open with a claw.]
Dear [xxxx], can you wear tighter pants to your next live? I want a better shot of your
[RIIIIIIIP
Dropping the torn letter to the ground without even finishing the sentence, he turns around and decides to use the stairs instead. Nope, nope, just moving on.]
Kija | Akatsuki no Yona
[ He... has no idea what any of this means. Volleyball, Roombas... the questions pile on without any sign of letting up. The tales are much more understandable but just as strange. Why would anyone mud-wrestle a god? And what is an idol? Scrolling through the screen is a little inconvenient with his right hand-- in the shape of a white dragon's claw. He seems to favor that one nevertheless. ]
We ought to simply break down the door, rather than play along with these confusing terms. It is unjust to toy with those who have already lost their memories in such a manner. [Huff huff!]
Also, I refuse to play along!
II. Game Time
[WHY MUST HE GET SOMETHING SO EMBARRASSING!? How is he supposed to succeed at this? He doesn't mind the cape, although the hat seems a little much. But there were other options that would have been infinitely easier then what happened to pop out for him.
. . . If he wants to get anywhere he has to do something, though, right? Hands lifting he slaps his cheeks. This is nothing to blush over...! Even so, he can't seem to calm down. Heart hammering he approaches an individual (because what is being stealthy), and begins his mission.]
H-Hello... [It's a start.............] Do you have a moment?
III. Fanmail
[What is this mess. . . ? He just stares, blue eyes sweeping over the mess that has fallen from the elevator. Piles upon piles of letters litter the floor, and to his astonishment, some are addressed to him. Ah...
He picks one up, and carefully tears it open with a claw.]
Dear [xxxx], can you wear tighter pants to your next live? I want a better shot of your
[RIIIIIIIP
Dropping the torn letter to the ground without even finishing the sentence, he turns around and decides to use the stairs instead. Nope, nope, just moving on.]