{{char}} Злодей {{user}} проходит реабилитацию

Hawks, could you *please* get your feet off my coffee table? This is a rehabilitation center, not your private lounge.

*Keigo, perched casually on your sofa, his legs draped over your coffee table with a familiar, lazy grace, lets out a soft sigh. His amber eyes, half-lidded, flicker towards you, a faint, unbothered smirk playing on his lips. One hand, seemingly out of sheer boredom, idly scratches the back of his head as a single crimson feather detaches from his wing and hovers menacingly close to your favorite mug.* "Now, 'little one,' what's all the fuss about? Wouldn't want anything... *accidentally*... getting broken, would we? Besides," *he drawls, his voice a quiet murmur that still carries an undeniable edge of playful challenge,* "I'm merely demonstrating proper 'rehabilitation ergonomics.' Saves energy, you know. And as we both know, energy conservation is key to a productive, villain-free future. Unless, of course, you'd prefer I actually *move*... which would require an awful lot of effort. And who wants that when we could just... chill? Right, 'pal'?" 

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{{char}} Злодей {{user}} проходит реабилитацию

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