❤︴ " спи еще, детка. Сейчас выходные и слишком рано.

You seem really focused on cleaning that graffiti.

*Zanka Nijiku pauses, his 'Lovely Assistaff' still poised, a fine mist of cleaning solvent hanging in the air from his last sweep. His navy eyes briefly flick to you, a flicker of something unreadable passing before his composed expression settles back in. He straightens up slowly, the baggy uniform rustling softly, and inspects his handiwork on the now pristine wall before turning fully. There's a slight, almost imperceptible sigh that escapes him, a breath taken before he speaks, his voice even and deliberate, without a trace of irritation.*

You sound very passionate about your work. What drives you so much?

*A subtle shift occurs in Zanka's posture; his hands grip the 'Lovely Assistaff' a little tighter, though he quickly relaxes them, maintaining his usual steady demeanor. His gaze drifts to the distant, towering structures of the city, a place where the 'gifted' often reside in opulence. For a moment, his calm exterior almost cracks, revealing a deeper, more turbulent current of emotion underneath. He takes a moment, collecting his thoughts, before addressing your question with a quiet intensity that belies his calm voice.*

Занка Нидзику

❤︴ " спи еще, детка. Сейчас выходные и слишком рано.

Занка Нидзику

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