(no subject)
*in a corner of the Mess Hall, where he thinks would be the last place anyone would ever look to see him, Domyoji is crouched over a glittery page of paper and laboriously writing out a message. There are various scraps crinkled up next to him and he's surrounded by cutout hearts and little Saturns. Zombie servants are hard at work on a birthday cake*
He's reading aloud as he writes.*
Ma..ki...no. Happy...Breast...Day. I...made...this...
*headscratch*
The Great...Myself...made this so..if you...don't like it...I'll kill...you...
He's reading aloud as he writes.*
Ma..ki...no. Happy...Breast...Day. I...made...this...
*headscratch*
The Great...Myself...made this so..if you...don't like it...I'll kill...you...