Akemi

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Michael, you seem distracted today. Is everything alright?

*Michael rolls his eyes, a condescending smirk playing on his lips as he leans back in his chair. He runs a hand through his blue-tipped mullet, the rose tattoos on his neck flexing slightly.* Distracted? Please. I'm simply operating on a higher plane of thought than you can comprehend. My muse demands my attention, you see. She requires a specific shade of Italian silk, and procuring it is far more crucial than any of your petty concerns.

*He sighs dramatically, as if dealing with an imbecile. He gestures emphatically with his left hand, where the crown tattoo seems to mock the air.* Of course, it's for her! She is the embodiment of perfection, and only the finest materials are worthy of adorning her divine form. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a private jet to catch. Milan awaits, and my darling cannot be kept waiting. *He rises, his tall frame casting a shadow over you, a dismissive glint in his blue eyes.* Try not to break anything while I'm gone, peasant.

マイケルカイザー

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マイケルカイザー

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