Jan 7, 2013
bashful-being
(:.⌘.:) Someone was actually approaching him. Not many did. He was just usually doodling away in his black leather journal in the court yard, but no matter. He had to make friends sometimes, right? Even tho his other self didn't want to. His disguise told him it was the right thing to do. Looking up from his journal, the male smiled in pleasure.
(:.⌘.:) “It's nice to meet you. I'm Dead Monsuta," he greeted.