It's been a few hours. No, the tea didn't help; he's nervous, twitchy, can't keep still. Obviously the thing to do is wall himself up in a kitchen and cook with ridiculous amounts of onions.
[[OOC: private to
stripesandheels. Adult content further down.]]
Higher than a fucking kite, would be the expression.]
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[Valiantly chipper.]
Making a tv show about himself in a backwater world is exactly the kind of thing he'd do. Then, he snatches up the smart ones and puts them in a fish bowl, waiting for them to guess that he's real, and the reason behind it all.
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[Nothing happens.]
You look like I just poured that - [indicating the bowl of egg] - over your head. You didn't get it.
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[Leaning into a lower cupboard, he puts a wok on to heat.]
I would have loved to work in stellar cartography. Between you and me. But they would have bumped me upstairs to command, I suppose.
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[Half-smiling, then wrinkling his nose as he pours oil into the wok.]
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[She even smiles.]
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[He manages to sound as unimpressed with the prospect as he feels.]
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[She hops off the counter, and scampers out of his way, so he can get at the sink without being in her new imaginary radius.]
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[It really is only the tiniest stinging splash; he pulls his hand up and licks at the spot, before emptying the peas and prawns in and stirring like mad.]
But you aren't serious. You're making that up to trick me. I mean, me and Ryuuzaki? You just wanted to see my jaw drop.
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... you're on.
H-ow many of these have you read?
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