❝ baby... you're not taking this seriously. ❞ he protests, speakers oozing with a tone that's near a whine, digital display settled into a scowl. @dxhliaism is casually tending to her hair in the mirror, brushing it through, seated atop the dresser where vox had lifted her prior to the scene you're viewing now. ( BUT THAT'S RATED R! AND WE'RE GOING FAMILY-FRIENDLY NOW. ) she does not seem to share his frustration, which only irks him more, because this is a high-level meeting he'll be conducting and he needs to make a good impression. he'd almost rather be negotiating with satan himself; might have better odds there. ❝ which one's better? i'm partial to the blue one... nevermind, it looks pretentious. should i stick to black? it's a classic. ❞ both arms outstretched, two hangers dangling off his claws, showcasing different shirts. ❝ what are you wearing? better yet, what's the venue? ❞

' vox , please wear something a lot more . . . casual. we are going to my bar . . . the family bar. we are just joining my family for lunch. then i plan to go to the farmers market down there before we go home. they have the most freshest produce at this time of year. we simply must go. ' dahlia turned her head to face her worried companion , ' listen , you are thinking way to much. they'll love you , mi amor. also hand me my hairclip . . . it's right behind you. it's next to my sundress. '