by Maduro Salvitary on May 10th, 2013, 3:38 pm
Maduro couldn't get over the fact that Fubuki was a ghost, it blew his mind so to speak.
He was offered a seat and he sat down next to her, his azure eyes met the scarlet red of the little haunt. He gaze did not swagger as he tried to figure her out, well the physical aspect of it all. Like a hazy dust, or an outline, perhaps a colored shadow of ones former past it was all very fascinating if just a bit on the spooky side.
Pardon my manners or lack there of, I'm just at a loss for words.
He kept his hands to himself but part of him wanted to pat the ghost girl ontop of the head to see if she retained her form. He didn't think it was a smart idea but the thought had crossed his mind.
My names Maduro, it's nice to meet you Fubuki
His gaze shifted to his drink and he picked it up, brought it to his lips and took a hardy gulp before placing it back down.
The Mage in him screamed experimentation but the scoundrel he was felt like prying. So sullen and depressed a moment ago. He had a way with reading women, she might have been a child but he knew she was trying to cover something up.
Of course the first step was admitting you needed help.
He was back in his element you could almost tell by the level of confidence in his voice, though not to be confused with arrogance he was just back in tempo.
[B]So why did you look so upset? If you don't eat is there anything I can do to make you feel better? You can talk to me[\b]
Maduro might have been a bed conquering womanizer but he was still human, and part of this was tugging at him. A little dead ghost child in the corner of a room sulking, it made him realize that he still had something of a concience.