[for the second time in a week, there is one (1) gilbert(ine) nightray on your screens. she looks - flustered, on her bed. she's panting, cheeks flushed red, hair dishevelled, frantic. the screen cuts off at her chest, and there's a knee somewhere there, raised leg and all.]
O-oh damn it -
Sir Dominic Sorel? Dominic - I-I need t-to speak to you
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[For a price of course.]
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He'll just kick it around.
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Hm~ That was a stupid thought, wasn't it Seaweed?.
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For good reason, probably.
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We'll figure out something soon. I don't care. Cheshire is living with me.
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He's still my precious friend.
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