**WIP** A menagerie of muses penned by Sketch from across tumblr, all now in one convenient place! For more info on the muses, please see the links below~ **WIP**
Hello, everyone~!! Sketch here! <3 It’s 12/23/21, and I’m happy to announce this blog as the main blog for all my muses! I’ve got a little touching up to do, but it’s full enough that I feel comfortable using this as my main blog for RPing~
If you want to send any asks or memes or starters, etc, I have a few under the “memes: specify muse” tag.
All previous threads will be replied to on their respective original blogs for now, though I may change that later. In any case, enjoy!! <3
"Isn't it a wonderful night to sit up here and watch everyone else going about their business as if they'll ever make a difference in life, blissfully unaware of how unimportant they actually are? I don't know about you but I've so often amazed at how many just squander their potential chasing what will always be beyond their reach."
"Geez, that's bleak," Sunny chuckled from behind him, looking over his shoulder at whatever he was. "Who hurt you?" She crouched beside him, casually munching on a banana with her tail swaying calmly.
"... So. You gonna tell us what's going on, or do we just get to sit here and wait for you to get randomly kidnapped again?"
Puck grimaced and, even though he could see again, turned his eyes away. "Like I said, long story."
Night shrugged. "I mean, we're here now. You know I'm just gonna keep bugging you until you tell me."
Finally, Puck turned to look at Night with a pitying smile. "Aww, you care about me~. That's so sweet~. Have I ever told you your ears are really cute?"
Night flushed and growled, "Stop changing the subject! Why the fuck were you getting kidnapped?!"
"Uuuugh," Puck threw his head back and slid down in his seat exasperatedly. "Fiiiiine. I'll try to stick to the relevant shit. So, obviously, you know I'm from Fae, right? I honestly don't remember if I told you or Sunil any of this. I probably did at some point. Maybe. ... The point is, I fucking hated it there. Wait, first, probably pretty important- did I mention that I used to be the Prince of Fae? I guess, Prince Regent? What do you call someone who was a ward of the Queen?"
"I don't know, but Prince sounds pretty close. Holy shit, you're royalty?! No wonder you're such a prick sometimes."
Puck grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. But seriously, though, I felt like one of those fairy-tale princesses stuck in their towers. That was pretty much my life for a looong time. I was like, Titania's fucking prized possession. She couldn't have kids- supposedly- and so I guess she... adopted me? I was really fucking young, I don't actually remember anything about my life before Fae.
"Regardless, she was a bitch to me, fucking took my fucking eyes outta my head when I was like eight or some shit to 'teach me a lesson' and 'be an example to others' because I did one stupid thing for the King. It was a fucking prank, dude. Note to whoever it concerns: Do not fuck around with a powerful-ass woman who can literally have you executed for whatever the fuck she feels like.
"Aaaanyway. I was only allowed outside the castle if I had an escort. Like a fucking dog on a leash. I came with my only friend at the time, Koko Yukon-"
"Wait, like the hotel lady?"
"-Right, that was kinda the reason for the trip. She wanted- I mean, her dad was in charge- 'In Charge,'" he emphasized with air-quotes, "at the time, but they were hoping to expand out of Fae and whatever, blah blah blah, I came to Apricus with Koko, and we made a plan together to fake my disappearance and/or death so I could live free here in Apricus, away from all the shit back at the castle."
"Long story short-?"
"Too late. So anyway, I get to Apricus, meet up with some shady-ass dude in some underground place, he offers me a deal that would make it so I never existed. I did it to start fresh, right?" Puck's face fell again and he looked down at his feet. "... The worst of it was... Koko. I tried to talk to her at the Hotel's Grand Opening in Apricus, and... she didn't know me. It hurt. A lot more than I thought it would...."
"Regardless," Puck shook his head, "most everyone did forget me who had known me from Fae. But I always had this gut feeling that Titania wouldn't forget that easily. Now, I don't know if she completely remembers who I am.... I don't think she does, otherwise I would've probably been kidnapped way before now. But she knows someone is missing that she 'owns' and wants it back. ... Does that answer your questions?"
Night frowned. "... Not completely.... How the hell did you find someone who could literally erase you from history?! Like, that's fucking wild. Was that his Awakened Power?"
Puck shrugged. "I don't know, maybe? He gave me a coin that I can't get rid of...." He pulled the coin out of his coat pocket and turned it over in his fingers to catch the light. "But yeah, that's my story."
The people of Apricus weren't the only ones watching the fights, of course. A bright blue butterfly fluttered onto the field, watching a few of the fighters very carefully.
Queen Titania sat on the edge of her throne, eyes glued to the screen that was being broadcast from the little bug. "There!" She shouted abruptly, standing and pointing at one of the fighters. "There! Get closer."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Mari nodded, and the butterfly left its perch, closing in on the dark-haired young man struggling against wires thrown his way.
"Puck.... Yes.... Yes, that must be him! ... It must...."
Her excitement slowly ebbed, replaced by a cold expression as she stood straighter. "... My son is alive. And I was lied to. This will not go unpunished....
"But first... I may just pay some very important people a visit...."
Colt looked up to the broadcast of the fight, enjoying a nice taco bucket from the school food court's Tacos-an-More. The fights were pretty wild so far. It was pretty fun watching some people he recognized duke it out. This time, though, one combatant in particular caught his attention.
"Mashiro? Why does that name sound familiar...?" He opened his aShine and searched the name, finding some info about the Mashiro School of Martial Arts, a detective agency, and one Linnaeus Mashiro as a former player on a Hecaball team. "Oh, that's gotta be it!"
As the fight continued, Colt rapidly scrolled through the information, eyes darting from one screen to the other as he tried to keep up with the action. "Dude.... This is his grandfather?! No way! And the old man's not even augmented! That's wild!" He looked back to the aShine and the news articles on Linnaeus, focusing mainly on a few dynamic photos from an intense Hecaball match. "Damn.... If he's got the genes of his grandad and two fucking awesome augmented arms.... He's gotta be hella strong."
He watched the rest of the fight quietly, making some mental notes. This was definitely something he'd be looking into more.
"Hey, Hugo! Nice work. Kinda looks like she let you win, though."
"Bro, who the fuck was that?"
"I know that bitch. Why are they here? They weren't in the Hecaball team.... Shit. That means.... Fuck."
"What's up?"
"This is probably not going to end well for me...."
"The fuck are you talking about?"
"N-not- um- Don't worry about it. Good job out there, Hugo."
"...Thanks...?" As Puck seemed to anxiously smile and walk away, not even bothering to throw the pair a couple of finger-guns, Hugo leaned into Night and whispered harshly, "What the fuck is your friend's problem?"
Night shrugged. "Who knows. He's just weird. Still, I trust him well enough that we should probably still keep an eye on that Mariposa person. They could definitely mean trouble."
A strict, stern mother? Blake couldn’t relate to that at all. Her own mom was anything but. However, other authority figures in her childhood had certainly fit that description, so it wasn’t as if she had zero understanding. “Sorry to cause you both trouble,” a resigned sigh escaped her, as she slowly began to work herself free from the dark denim that seemed to adhere itself to her legs in its soaked state. “The storm was just getting worse, and I was genuinely concerned I might get struck by lightning…”
Taking a few moments to twist and drain the excess moisture from her jeans, she shook the wrinkles from them, before carefully draping them beside her sweater. Blake wasn’t body-shy in the slightest, so it didn’t immediately occur to her that stripping-down in front of someone might make them uncomfortable. That oblivious nature was highlighted, as she continued to shed sopping material, until it all hung meticulously over the edge of the sink-counter. Her bare frame shivered almost comically at the sudden exposure to the cool room air, arms crossing around herself to try to conserve meager warmth. “Umm…I don’t want to be rude and start digging around, but…” a hesitant chuckle escaped her, “where do you keep your towels in here?”
Honey averted her eyes politely as Blake shed her soaked clothes. Without a word, she reached over to the shelves next to her and pulled a fresh towel off the rack. She held the towel out between them to hide the majority of Blake's body from sight.
To distract herself from the awkwardness of the situation, Honey decided to just continue the conversation as normal. "It's really not your fault. Circumstances just weren't in our favor. And I'd much rather be reprimanded by our mother than leave you out there to drown... or get struck by lightning.
"I know one thing," she said after Blake had taken the towel. "Despite her anger, Olivier would never throw you back out into the streets. You can rest assured you'll be safe here for the night. So don't worry, okay?" Honey looked to their guest with a warm, reassuring smile.
Blake hurriedly took the offered towel, wrapping it around her trembling frame to soak up some of the lingering dampness on her skin. She could practically hear her teeth chattering from the chill, and the way her dark hair was sticking to her neck and shoulders was growing itchy and irritating. “That’s a relief…” she admitted, running the ends of the towel over her head to remove as much water as she could from her hair, before hugging it back around her shivering torso.
“You told your mom I was a ‘client’. Does that mean we should come up with a cover story for this ‘meeting’?” She chuckled awkwardly, leaning heavily against the edge of the sink counter, as she waited for the trembling in her frame to subside enough to move any further. “I’m not very good at lying, but I’ll try my best, if it saves you two some grief.”
Blake honestly couldn’t understand how a parent could lack desire for their children to socialize and form friendships outside of family. It seemed such an odd stance to take. You could miss out on so many great relationships with that mindset. True, Blake wasn’t the most social of creatures herself, but even she saw the value in spending time with other people. Tonight was a prime example — she’d still be trapped in a torrential downpour if it weren’t for the two siblings currently opening their home to her for refuge.
Honey's smile turned into a rueful smirk. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I already feel terrible not telling her the full truth." She sighed and turned her gaze back to the door. "Besides, I think it's a little late for that. She's got Linnaeus. We just have to trust him."
However, Honey's brow furrowed a moment later. A tension gripped her heavily. "...Something's wrong."
Just then, her aShine pinged and she pulled it out of a camoflauged pocket in her short kimono. Her frown deepened as she read the message. "He says it's done." She turned back to Blake with an unreadable expression. "We should go back to the bedroom. Are you alright?"
A strict, stern mother? Blake couldn’t relate to that at all. Her own mom was anything but. However, other authority figures in her childhood had certainly fit that description, so it wasn’t as if she had zero understanding. “Sorry to cause you both trouble,” a resigned sigh escaped her, as she slowly began to work herself free from the dark denim that seemed to adhere itself to her legs in its soaked state. “The storm was just getting worse, and I was genuinely concerned I might get struck by lightning…”
Taking a few moments to twist and drain the excess moisture from her jeans, she shook the wrinkles from them, before carefully draping them beside her sweater. Blake wasn’t body-shy in the slightest, so it didn’t immediately occur to her that stripping-down in front of someone might make them uncomfortable. That oblivious nature was highlighted, as she continued to shed sopping material, until it all hung meticulously over the edge of the sink-counter. Her bare frame shivered almost comically at the sudden exposure to the cool room air, arms crossing around herself to try to conserve meager warmth. “Umm…I don’t want to be rude and start digging around, but…” a hesitant chuckle escaped her, “where do you keep your towels in here?”
Honey averted her eyes politely as Blake shed her soaked clothes. Without a word, she reached over to the shelves next to her and pulled a fresh towel off the rack. She held the towel out between them to hide the majority of Blake's body from sight.
To distract herself from the awkwardness of the situation, Honey decided to just continue the conversation as normal. "It's really not your fault. Circumstances just weren't in our favor. And I'd much rather be reprimanded by our mother than leave you out there to drown... or get struck by lightning.
"I know one thing," she said after Blake had taken the towel. "Despite her anger, Olivier would never throw you back out into the streets. You can rest assured you'll be safe here for the night. So don't worry, okay?" Honey looked to their guest with a warm, reassuring smile.
Blake’s expression turned to one of less vague concern, watching the other woman’s body language and listening to her frustration. “Is she really that bad?” Her words were whispered, as she carefully peeled the weighty, drenched sweater from her shivering frame, chill-bumps chasing over her newly exposed skin, and the dense scar on her chest aching as the cool air hit it. Holding the soaked material over the drink, she twisted it gently, ringing the icy water from it and into the basin. Shaking the fabric loose, she draped it along the edge of the counter, rubbing her callused palms over the wet skin of her toned arms — attempting to generate some heat to warm up a bit.
“If so, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll manage. If you need to go bail him out.” Reaching down, she quickly worked free the laces on her left boot, before slipping the leather from her foot and pouring the stagnant contents down the drain, as well. “I don’t want to cause more trouble than I have, so if you need to kick me back out to the curb, I won’t hold it against you.” A dark laugh, as she repeated the process with the opposite boot.
Honey frowned slightly before allowing her face to relax into an unreadable expression. She kept her eyes away from meeting Blake's. "She can be. Though I wouldn't say 'bad' so much as... stern? Strict. That sort of thing." She shrugged.
A small, wry smile crossed the corners of her lips at Blake's laugh. "No, I'm not going to throw you out. Besides, it's probably better for him to take her on alone. He can handle himself.
"But, um," she added, stepping further into the bathroom away from the door, "if you do want some more privacy to change and dry off, I can give you a moment, grab some dry clothes for you?"
The twins sat in their room in silence. Linnaeus laid awake on his bed, propped up to read a book while music from his headphones drowned out the sound of the storm; Honey sat on the windowsill, gazing out across the street, admiring the heavy sheets of rain obscuring the cityscape. Neither had been able to sleep.
Linnaeus' music was interrupted by a ping on his device. He looked up to Honey, who hadn't heard the sound but still followed her intuition to look back over to her brother curiously. Without a word, Linnaeus read the message, eyes widened, and quickly shot over a worried glance to Honey, whose expression immediately changed, assuming correctly that their friend was in trouble.
Their worried glances turned to their bedroom door. Olivier was still home. Linnaeus looked to his sister and raised a synthetic finger to his lips. Honey nodded and sat still at the window, watching as her brother silently opened the door to head downstairs, not even bothering to put a shirt on. Any normal person's footsteps could be heard squeaking over the wooden steps every so often, but Linnaeus was trained better than to make any sound. Still, opening the front door wasn't going to be quiet, especially with the storm raging outside.
He took a deep breath to steel himself for any consequences this decision would have and swiftly opened the front door, grabbed Blake by the arm, and hurried her inside before closing the door again as quickly as possible.
"Kuso, you're drenched!" He commented in hushed tones. The feeling of wet cloth was new and unpleasant. He looked to his palm with disgust and shook off the moisture. "What are you-?" He shook his head and started over. "Never mind, get upstairs. And be quiet."
She had barely collapsed the screen on her device, crossing her arms protectively over her chest to attempt to conserve body-heat, when the door swung open, giving her an impressive startle. She’d nearly jumped out of her skin, when she was grabbed and yanked inside, and she might have protested at the rough treatment, if she hadn’t been so thankful to be out of the pouring rain. Sure, the inside was cooler, due to ventilation, which made her shiver a little harder, but at least she wasn’t being pummeled by precipitation anymore.
Snorting quietly at his obvious distaste at the wet sensations on his palm, she tried to whisper through the chattering of her teeth, “How do you think I feel? This sweater weighs 10 pounds right now…”
Shakily making her way to the stairs, she minded his warning, steps practically silent all the way to the top. She paused on the landing, looking around for where she was supposed to go next, before ducking into the only room with the light on and the door ajar. Sliding into the narrow space behind said door, she tried to make herself as small as possible, so as not to leave too many puddles around the dry room. Glancing sheepishly up at Honey, as she spotted her across the room, Blake released a shaky laugh, swiping a sopping lock of dark hair away from her eyes to see better, “Sorry. Umm…I just need, like…a towel. And a place to lay low until this passes. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
"Oh, goodness! You poor thing!" Honey, in her mini nightgown-kimono with shoulder-length hair loose behind her, hopped up from the window and hurried over to Blake. Without her makeup on, it was much easier to see the resemblance between her and her twin. She looked Blake up and down pitifully. "How long were you out there?! I have so many questions, but first, let's get you out of those clothes. Our bathroom's just down the hall." Protectively, she placed her hands on Blake's shoulders, not minding the cold, damp fabric, and started to lead her out of the room.
Linnaeus had followed Blake to the top of the stairs, but decided to stay there to stand guard in case Olivier were to show up. However, he was too late to warn them as their mother's imposing figure moved towards him down the hall. When Honey and Blake blocked his line of sight, he stood frozen with wide eyes.
Honey's soothing words were cut short and her grasp on Blake stiffened upon seeing their mother. Even in her evening wear, she was an imposing sight. Her arms were crossed, eyes cast down her nose in a glare at her daughter.
To try and save the situation, Honey came up with the simplest excuse she could: "She's a client. Sorry, we won't be long."
Olivier remained silent and turned her deadly gaze over to Blake, as if assessing the girl's validity.
Blake had been on the cusp of protest, when she suddenly found herself being ushered back out of the door and into the dim hallway. Only to slow to a stop when the demeanor of the twins seemed to morph in a split-second, to something tense and tedious. It only took a few seconds for her to put two and two together and realize that a fourth person had approached. And that person had a very concerning effect on the both of them. Glancing up at the unfamiliar woman, Blake’s head tilted in curious concern, amber eyes flicking between the three bodies surrounding her with mild confusion. Hearing Honey’s hastily-crafted lie, Blake frowned lightly, but made no immediate move to correct her. Clearly the other felt under some form of duress in this situation. And Blake wasn’t aiming to make this interaction more uncomfortable for the twins.
Maybe that imposing glare and intimidating stance was frightening to others…but Blake just felt…annoyed? Baffled? Maybe a little underwhelmed? The way they had spoken of their mother — who Blake assumed this woman to be, based on what she’d learned of their relationship thus far — the siblings had painted her to be this terrifying, oppressive, daunting figure who was to be avoided at all costs. Blake didn’t see it. She was…just a cranky-looking, middle-aged lady who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder the size of a small planet. Blake was far more concerned with the puddle of rainwater that was growing in a halo around her soaked boots. A sheepish laugh tumbled from her lips before she could restrain it, as she peered down at it, “Ah, sorry about the mess.” Turning her gaze back to Honey, she released another awkward chuckle, “So…about that towel…”
The woman raised an eyebrow and turned icy blue eyes over to Honey again. "A warning would have been appreciated."
"I'm sorry, Mother," Honey said with a slight bow. "It was a bit of an emergency." Her tension eased only slightly at Olivier's seeming acceptance of the situation, and she took that moment to hurry Blake into the bathroom. "Yes, towels this way."
Just as Honey closed the door behind her, Olivier's voice could be heard sternly calling Linnaeus' name. Honey cringed, back against the door. "Kuso...."
The bathroom was small, clean, and clear of any sort of decorations. A single mirror on the wall above the sink that doubled as a mini cabinet, a toilet, and a shower. There was a little shelving against one wall that held towels, all neatly folded, with some other bath products laid about carefully. A small stool sat in one corner of the shower, behing glass doors.
"Okay," Honey said with a hard sigh. "Let's just get you cleaned up quickly, okay?" She tried to smile at Blake, but it was clear in her eyes that she was worried for her brother, left out there to fend for himself against their mother's wrath. "Feel free to use whatever you need. If you want, I can let you borrow some of my clothes? You really shouldn't stay in those."
The twins sat in their room in silence. Linnaeus laid awake on his bed, propped up to read a book while music from his headphones drowned out the sound of the storm; Honey sat on the windowsill, gazing out across the street, admiring the heavy sheets of rain obscuring the cityscape. Neither had been able to sleep.
Linnaeus' music was interrupted by a ping on his device. He looked up to Honey, who hadn't heard the sound but still followed her intuition to look back over to her brother curiously. Without a word, Linnaeus read the message, eyes widened, and quickly shot over a worried glance to Honey, whose expression immediately changed, assuming correctly that their friend was in trouble.
Their worried glances turned to their bedroom door. Olivier was still home. Linnaeus looked to his sister and raised a synthetic finger to his lips. Honey nodded and sat still at the window, watching as her brother silently opened the door to head downstairs, not even bothering to put a shirt on. Any normal person's footsteps could be heard squeaking over the wooden steps every so often, but Linnaeus was trained better than to make any sound. Still, opening the front door wasn't going to be quiet, especially with the storm raging outside.
He took a deep breath to steel himself for any consequences this decision would have and swiftly opened the front door, grabbed Blake by the arm, and hurried her inside before closing the door again as quickly as possible.
"Kuso, you're drenched!" He commented in hushed tones. The feeling of wet cloth was new and unpleasant. He looked to his palm with disgust and shook off the moisture. "What are you-?" He shook his head and started over. "Never mind, get upstairs. And be quiet."
She had barely collapsed the screen on her device, crossing her arms protectively over her chest to attempt to conserve body-heat, when the door swung open, giving her an impressive startle. She’d nearly jumped out of her skin, when she was grabbed and yanked inside, and she might have protested at the rough treatment, if she hadn’t been so thankful to be out of the pouring rain. Sure, the inside was cooler, due to ventilation, which made her shiver a little harder, but at least she wasn’t being pummeled by precipitation anymore.
Snorting quietly at his obvious distaste at the wet sensations on his palm, she tried to whisper through the chattering of her teeth, “How do you think I feel? This sweater weighs 10 pounds right now…”
Shakily making her way to the stairs, she minded his warning, steps practically silent all the way to the top. She paused on the landing, looking around for where she was supposed to go next, before ducking into the only room with the light on and the door ajar. Sliding into the narrow space behind said door, she tried to make herself as small as possible, so as not to leave too many puddles around the dry room. Glancing sheepishly up at Honey, as she spotted her across the room, Blake released a shaky laugh, swiping a sopping lock of dark hair away from her eyes to see better, “Sorry. Umm…I just need, like…a towel. And a place to lay low until this passes. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
"Oh, goodness! You poor thing!" Honey, in her mini nightgown-kimono with shoulder-length hair loose behind her, hopped up from the window and hurried over to Blake. Without her makeup on, it was much easier to see the resemblance between her and her twin. She looked Blake up and down pitifully. "How long were you out there?! I have so many questions, but first, let's get you out of those clothes. Our bathroom's just down the hall." Protectively, she placed her hands on Blake's shoulders, not minding the cold, damp fabric, and started to lead her out of the room.
Linnaeus had followed Blake to the top of the stairs, but decided to stay there to stand guard in case Olivier were to show up. However, he was too late to warn them as their mother's imposing figure moved towards him down the hall. When Honey and Blake blocked his line of sight, he stood frozen with wide eyes.
Honey's soothing words were cut short and her grasp on Blake stiffened upon seeing their mother. Even in her evening wear, she was an imposing sight. Her arms were crossed, eyes cast down her nose in a glare at her daughter.
To try and save the situation, Honey came up with the simplest excuse she could: "She's a client. Sorry, we won't be long."
Olivier remained silent and turned her deadly gaze over to Blake, as if assessing the girl's validity.
The twins sat in their room in silence. Linnaeus laid awake on his bed, propped up to read a book while music from his headphones drowned out the sound of the storm; Honey sat on the windowsill, gazing out across the street, admiring the heavy sheets of rain obscuring the cityscape. Neither had been able to sleep.
Linnaeus' music was interrupted by a ping on his device. He looked up to Honey, who hadn't heard the sound but still followed her intuition to look back over to her brother curiously. Without a word, Linnaeus read the message, eyes widened, and quickly shot over a worried glance to Honey, whose expression immediately changed, assuming correctly that their friend was in trouble.
Their worried glances turned to their bedroom door. Olivier was still home. Linnaeus looked to his sister and raised a synthetic finger to his lips. Honey nodded and sat still at the window, watching as her brother silently opened the door to head downstairs, not even bothering to put a shirt on. Any normal person's footsteps could be heard squeaking over the wooden steps every so often, but Linnaeus was trained better than to make any sound. Still, opening the front door wasn't going to be quiet, especially with the storm raging outside.
He took a deep breath to steel himself for any consequences this decision would have and swiftly opened the front door, grabbed Blake by the arm, and hurried her inside before closing the door again as quickly as possible.
"Kuso, you're drenched!" He commented in hushed tones. The feeling of wet cloth was new and unpleasant. He looked to his palm with disgust and shook off the moisture. "What are you-?" He shook his head and started over. "Never mind, get upstairs. And be quiet."
"Whatever, it's a thing that's happening and I wanna be there for it! Do you think they'd actually come by to like, the campus CiarBucks and do a signing for real?!"
Hugo shrugs. "Don't know, don't care. Why don't ya do all this nerdy freakin' out for Cerise?"
"'Cause she's not here right now, but don't worry, I've got plenty of excitement left in me I can put on her!"
"Ha! That's what she said."
"I didn't mean it like-! Sh-shut up! Go away."
"A'ight, fine, fine, I'll go... bang your sister! Oooooohhh!"
The two start playfully tussling and throwing snowballs at each other.
"OHOHOHO! Have some faith in Grandpa Mashiro! This 'old man' has lived through more than you can imagine, and still kickin' like a spring chicken! Now, if my brilliant, talented daughter would join me and bring more honor to the Mashiro name-"
"Father, please. This is ridiculous. I have no intention of playing this game with you."
"Ooohhhh, but sweetiieee.... Father-Daughter time is important! Oh, well. How about you, my fierce grandchildren? Would you join your Ojiisan in-"
