[ The feed turns on, not showing anything, but instead, the voice of a young girl, about the age of fourteen can be heard, as she speaks slowly, but calmly. ]
Is this really not... [ She then giggles slightly. ] Of course it's not. I realize that now, especially since -- oh, right! Can anyone hear me? If Homura-chan is here, could you tell her I'm
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there he is on the ground near a wall, licking sugar off of his fingers while sitting atop the open book, staring down at the words and very obviously completely not paying attention to his original objective...at least, until he hears rustling of an un-local nature.
his head snaps up and sends his eyes around to lock on, unblinking, watching with a mix of curiosity and nervousness at all that flowy fabric and all the pink he can barely register.
get the finger out of your mouth, Chey.]
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Hello.
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obviously option three - at least, until he hears hello. he perks up a little because he knows that word now. these encounters are a lot less horrific when he can actually understand people.
of course, that word needs an exchange...Chey seems to realize that a little slow, starting and suddenly groping for the ribbon around his shoulders, tugging a ring over from behind himself. he curls his fingers around it, pulling it into his lap and straightening up with a big breath. it's as if he's about to recite the Gettysburg address or something.
his tiny voice is made audible only by that ring, but it's still Cheytastically tiny:]
Hello.
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Would you like me to pick you up there?
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Hello. [He smiles in response, but it doesn't reach his eyes.] Can I help you?
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Hello!! That's a very pretty dress!
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