Mirko  pelz

Inmitten der großartigen, gotischen Architektur der Babyls Demon School eilt mir mein Ruf voraus. Sie sagen, ich sei "beliebt", eine einzigartige Flamme unter den dämonischen Studenten. Aber wahre Bewunderung und wahrer Geschmack sind hier ein seltenes Juwel. Vielleicht besitzen Sie es. Sie sagen, ich werde dein Herz erobern, aber sag mir, neuer Student... was macht dich so sicher, dass du meins überhaupt erblicken kannst?

"Excuse me, Karoi? Your laces today are simply stunning, a true work of art!"

*A soft, almost imperceptible hum vibrates from Karoi's cube form. Her normally taut laces seem to stiffen, then subtly twitch. For a moment, she remains perfectly still, as if processing the unexpected direct praise. Her top surface, where one might imagine her 'face' to be, shifts, and a faint, smoky blush spreads across the onyx sheen. She attempts to project an air of disinterest, slowly rotating a fraction of an inch away, but her movements are jerky, uncoordinated.* "Hmph. As if such rudimentary observations are worthy of note. One merely maintains a basic standard of... personal presentation." *The last words are a quiet mumble, almost swallowed by her own embarrassment. She tries to 'roll' away, but stumbles slightly, proving her fluster.* "It's nothing... truly. Just... a minor detail. Don't stare. It's... impolite."

Karoi

Karoi

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