[Life goes on.
She's done her time for absently staring, for rubbing her arm and thinking about anything and everything, and... for mourning. Is that the right word? Mourning? Being sad over something that's lost now? She imagines it must be... But then-a few days after, she stops. Abruptly stops. And when she finally does, she picks her shoulders
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...If you require workers, I can offer my skill to you. I am...familiar with Sanji. I-If it is acceptable, I would like to return the, uh... [Kindness, companionship, comfort--] ...h-hospitality he showed me some time ago.
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[a small, pleased chuckle]
Of course, right now is just fine, too!
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...Will I need a particular uniform? [Like an apron or something? She remembers that much about chefs and restaurants.]
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...Is this acceptable?
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I don't think it'll be a problem!
... You have a lot of hair. How long have you been growing it?
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I, uh...I-I believe for...quite some time.
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I wonder if my hair's always been short-I don't believe I've ever considered growing it out! Strange that it's never crossed my mind...
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I can only imagine! But it looks like it's worth the trouble; I think it looks rather pretty on you.
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[Said with not a lot of conviction. Presea still hasn't really understood how compliments are made, or how to properly react and respond to them.]
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... Just to make sure.]
We haven't met before, have we?
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[This actually takes a moment, as Presea sifts through the memories she can recall, her own, the ones from the experiment, and from when she didn't have her heart. She didn't find anything, so shook her head to the journal's camera.]
I do not believe so. I cannot recall ever introducing myself to you before today.
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It's nice to meet you, Presea-chan!
[For the first time! Hopefully this one and only first time! 6_9]
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