[ Hmm, those yukatas were quite fashionable. Almost a shame to let them go. Still, ultimately there's nothing like
his own selectionBuckingham's last two transmission were conveniently timed accidents. His current project is a deliberate video message. He holds up the device and eyes it sceptically for a moment before deeming the results
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[Her tone is less confused by what that means and more ~suggestive~]
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Whatever are you suggesting, miss?
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[Did you expect something other than bluntness, oh-fig-eater?]
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[ He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. ]
I can only hope you are merely unfamiliar with the term, otherwise that is quite the accusation.
[ The sincerest of sincere indignations. It is all yours. ]
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[Evelyn does raise an eyebrow at that second bit. A manservant? What century is he fro-
Oh, well, his clothes are...yes. All right then.]
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[ He's certainly surprised. An uncommon area of expertise for a woman, to say the least, but he's not about to dismiss her on those counts alone. ]
I would certainly appreciate it.
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[She had a difficult enough time figuring it out being from 1926, but he looks as though he's from the early 17th century.
Yeesh.]
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But he's keeping any and all information about the last event to himself.]
Don't tell me that your hair has lost its will to defy its own weight without three valets to keep it up.
[So dry, his tone.]
Because that would be a damned shame.
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Say the word and the position is all yours.
[ Because that is what he meant by his comment, is it not? ♥ ]
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[Doesn't he sound amused? Hahaha. Ha ha. Ha.]
I pity whoever you con into servitude.
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Quite the pity; you would have made a fine valet...
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Erm. Somebody. ]
Another man of few words, I see.
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Cosplay? Elaborate.
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