Nit's eye gradually narrowed as Axe continued to natter on and on about her Halloween plans, already pretty ticked when she made her remarks. They squeezed a nearby pillow in an attempt to calm themselves, although that did not stop them from hissing out their own salty statements.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-family: courier;">That self-awareness sure as... hell doesn't compensate for your... self-control, weeb</span>," Nit scoffed right back at her, expressing their quite apparent distaste. "<span style="font-family: courier;">I swear, if... we ever get married, I'm... not putting you in... charge of our money. You... must get plenty of... income from your job... to still be able to... live here.</span>" Although Nit chuckled in some parts of their statements, they were obviously more annoyed than before, grumbling quietly under their breath. They only slightly rose their voice to say their last line- "<span style="font-family: courier;">I'm just saying... this sorta behavior usually... leads to poverty.</span>"<br/><br/>Nit rose up from the bed, their body moving in a manner that resembled undulation. They emitted an obnoxiously loud yawn, one that gaped their jaws so wide that someone could probably examine what their digestive tract had to offer simply by looking down their salivating maw. Afterwards, they crawled off the bed and went up to the door, but not before playfully rubbing Axe's hair, letting some fuchsia ribbons gently run off their robotic fingers as they passed her.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-family: courier;">You don't mind if... I use your bathroom... do yah?</span>" Nit asked rather suddenly and casually, looking back at the girl. "<span style="font-family: courier;">Not to... do dirty business, but... I really gotta shower. Marcial'll flip the <span style="font-style: italic">hell</span>... out if I don't take... this dirty suit off.</span>" Nit leaned on the door, tugging at their shirt collar. "<span style="font-family: courier;">I dunno if... that stupid chauffeur is... ever gonna come back... with someone who's got... clothes for me though... That stupid ass Marcial. He's so old that... his brain has cobwebs in... it and never made him... tell me to... pack anything. <span style="font-style: italic">Biejo comepinga</span>.</span>" They looked back at Axe, looking much more agitated. "<span style="font-family: courier;">I doubt you have... anything I could put on... in the meantime, especially... nothing long-sleeved, so... I prefer you not... burden yourself.</span>"