#starter;milo

Milo looked around the room. "Um..what happened here? Looks like a tornado hit."

Head ducked, fingers charcoal-stained -- it isn't easy to distract Milo once he's ensnared by his sketchbook. But, as the silence is broken by a pointed harrumph, emerald gaze flickers to the source, a smile quick to tug at his lips as he takes in his companion. "--What're you doing, love?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." He's frustrated, to say the least; spending half an hour trying--and failing--to pitch a tent can do that to a guy. "Whose idea was it to go camping again?"

{ if there's one thing milo isn't particularly aware of, it's boundaries. you'd think that after ten years of living on earth, he'd have a handle on humanity's conventions and formalities; but the celestial being is still rather flippant when it comes to adhering to them. why else would he be approaching a random stranger in the middle of the park, a charming smile on his lips because really, he sees nothing odd about what he's doing.} Y'mind if I do a quick sketch of you?