[ this wouldn't be the very first of the elite touting around without a penny to their name, riding on name and compliments of the house — but it does throw a suspicious wrench into a gear already well-worn, if ever Getou had been deceived in the first place. it suggests to him a greenness with deceit, intensifying the mystery. ]

If you don't understand someone's motives, throwing out haphazard guesses wastes everyone's time.

[ long legs barely manage to cross under the table, pitching in on a hip towards Sunday, focus rapt. slatted eyes ooze with heat, magmatic gold that burns with the cherry's reflection, answering their kindred... but without divinity, it's honey's mockery of ore, natural but saccharine. ]

I don't really like it when people lie to me. It makes me feel... [ a smoky breath sucked through teeth, ] Provoked.

[ certain now that Sunday's attention is focused upon Getou solely, the frog's sticky tongue darts the air, looping and latching, spun around the two curved bars that make Sunday's halo. one mighty pull back attempts to dislodge the thing and claim it as treasure for its master. ]