Im Yun Soo strolled though the parlor in the evening, the other nations carried off in their own business as he's found draped into something longer and more robe-like on the edge to a dimly lit kitchen. On a glassy piece attached to the counter, he was making sushi wraps different from Japanese: they were wider, shorter, and contained more
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Why, oh why, did he make such a humble impression to all the nations residing here? First, he appeared wounded, weak, pathetic; and now, he was absolutely filthy in front of a complete stranger! A NICELY dressed stranger, of all things!
"Ah...," he ventures softly, lowering the rifle in his hands -- target practice, you know. "G-good... good evening, sir."
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"Ahh, it's great to see you Al...fred...?" He blinks at the young face, the curl of hair next to a bang apart from his forehead forming an expression matching very closely.
"(o//o)"
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His back straightens, his shoulders square; and timidly, Alfred approaches Yun Soo with one extended (dirty) hand. "You were referring to Mister Jones, I believe. I-I'm his King's colonies of British North America, Alfred Kirkland!"
"Ah..nice to ... meet you." And this was the right time to have a hand shake, correct? Correct. Ah.
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"Are you hungry? You look... like you've been working."
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