manuscripture | ( IC INBOX / BUSINESS CARD )

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, ROHAN KISHIBE. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 512.66.730.91 * USER has joined 512.66.730.91 <AUTOMATED REPLY, DO NOT RETURN:> You have reached the inbox of Rohan Kishibe. I am currently away and unable to answer messages. Leave a BRIEF** message with a subject line below. Messages will be replied to in order of importance and subject matter. Advertisements and junk mail will be ignored and blocked from this server.

[ Somewhere around town-- at the bookstore, the Tomoe-Kaname Bakery, attached to posts and notice boards --you find a small white notecard. On it is printed a little message and some numbers in ornate lettering. If you look closely, it reads the following: ]

Rohan Kishibe, Mangaka & Visual Artist
Owner Pro Tempore of Ebony Threads Tailor Shop
Highly Experienced.
Commissions & Advertising For Hire
Pay Negotiable.
Contact At: 512.66.730.91 for inquiries
Castle Lüvchaque - Directly North of Bavan per appointment ONLY.

(( feel free to use this as an action-based prompt too. any random interactions will MOST LIKELY take place in the form of walk-ins at the tailor shop unless it's pre-planned. just drop a starter in here! ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She isn't rotting. Ha. She has never known Rohan to lie, nor would she ever accuse him of being anything less than truthful with her, but surely his eyes do not see what hers do - she sees her claws falling out, she sees her tail withering away. If that isn't rotting, she isn't sure what else it could possibly be.]

[In the back of her mind, she hears a small, reasonable voice suggest that she may be just a touch hysterical at the moment. She honestly can't say she disagrees with it.]

[She looks up when asked, the gesture more mechanical than deliberate. Even if she can't rely on her conscious mind to make decisions for her, her obedient nature can be trusted to take over in its stead.]

[She looks up at Rohan, her trust in him tempering the fear in her stare. She meets his gaze readily, and in a flash - a literal and figurative flash - her fear subsides, giving way to a quiet shock.]

[She blinks, suddenly bleary-eyed, then sniffs. Her mouth quivers a bit, and after a short pause she sniffs again and lets out a shaky breath, her eyes falling shut as she leans forward to touch her forehead to Rohan's chest, seeking shelter in closeness and privacy behind the curtain of her hair.]

Forgive me, I'm sorry, 'm so sorry-

[ He'll take shock over hysterics.

His chest rises and then heavily falls with a sigh. ]

... I don't know why you need to apologize. [ Rather, he DOES because it's in Lorna's nature but it doesn't mean he wants her to. He sets a hand atop her head and holds her there. ] This isn't your fault. They have been distributing a chemical... I'm not sure what it does but it turns you inside out like this.

Somehow. It's a thing of sin and now they are forcing it upon those they can catch with it. Despicable. Vile...

( IC INBOX / BUSINESS CARD )

Snanax god fuckin bless

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