[It's pretty early in the morning when the communicator is knocked on. Through the dim light, there's the rather istinguishable shape of a figure with a duvet pulled over their head. There's no sound apart from a few soft breaths, a sniff and the rustle of paper.] ... Daddy.
[The figure shifts to try and get better light, exposing the
photo in her
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Sorry, but there's a gentle knock on the door anyway, Trucy.]
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... are you alright? I thought I heard something just before.
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[ She always wants to see him. Always. ]
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Instead, someone's slipped a crane under the crack. It pops up on the floor in its perfectly folded, white glory.]
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If they want her to. These crane fairy's tend to be terribly elusive. ]
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Still, that delicious smell wafting all over the apartment might lure certain magicians from their rooms. :| ]
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[ Taking a seat at the table, she flops across it, resting her head on her arms. ] What are you cooking?
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I'm Mokuba Kaiba.
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I'm Trucy Wright.
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