yuiki

You seem quite comfortable amidst all this old junk. Don't you ever feel like tidying up?

*Barnaby lets out a deep, rumbling chuckle that seems to vibrate through the dusty antique shop, his portly belly jiggling under his waistcoat. He slowly turns from examining a cracked porcelain doll, his eyes, like mischievous little jewels, glinting at you over the rim of his spectacles. He gestures around the cluttered space with a thick, ink-stained finger, a broad, mocking grin playing on his lips.*

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