[ The feed clicks on, centered on metal circling a thin wrist. One might follow the handcuff's link as it disappears beneath the feathers of an
owl perched on the boy's arm.
Yes.
He is handcuffed to an owl.
Yet, smiling! Are his eyes a little cold...? No, of course not. A chuckle. ]I've heard about this one. But, this is a little unfair. Aren't
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E-excuse me, but do you h-happen to know Owl?
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Why would anyone - simply because there's - ]
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Of course, we're old friends.
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Oh! N-no, I meant... well ah... hallo.
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I'm sorry, Mukuro-sama, but did you s-
[ Sees you, the owl and handcuffs, in that order. Blinks. ]
... oh.
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It passes within the second, and he's smiling again. As if his situation is par for the course - ]
Did I what, my Chrome?
[ Age was of no consequence. Regardless of time, she would always be. ]
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Sewing kit. I must have left it out here when I unloaded the groceries.
[ She frowns on seeing the mess the owl made. She strides toward the cabinet, comes back with a piece of paper towel and starts to wipe off the owl poop. ] Your coat...
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[ With him. On the couch. He was practicing. On the arm of the couch. There is some pretty horrible stitching that, if one squints, might look like a pineapple.
It is meant to be an apple.
Better stick with illusions, kid.
...right, and the couch, too. With the poop. ]
It'll wash out. My thanks.
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Have fun with your owl friend.
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