<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/N4lStza.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Michael 'Mike' S. Astragalus<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 12 (12:45 PM)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Dorm Halls<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Syra, Open!<br/><hr/><br/>"Compared to you, I feel like some sort of country bumpkin or some uncultured swine." Michael couldn't help but remark. Cuztom-made clothes... Her prestige would probably be fairly high in the school if knowledge like that was commonplace. The sort of girl who could potentially be at the center of various cliques if she felt like it. With each sentence, he felt just a little bit more distant, but it was far from anything that would keep him from talking.<br/><br/>"Only thing I can say I can custom make is this." He remarked, holding his hand out. From the sleeve, several vines began to snake out coiling around the front and back of the foresrm, elongation out before sharpening at both points. An ingenious self-defense weapon, the number of times he'd shown it off could be counted on one hand, to the point where only two people really knew about it, both present in the room.<br/><br/>"Though our ideas of custom are too very different things.  He added, before he retracted the myriad of solidified vines back into his sleeve, flicking his forearm a moment later. "So you've been here for a while now... What do you think of the academy? It's students?" he hummed, moving to the nearby wall to lean against. "If you don't mind me asking anyway. I could be annoying you with these questions and curiosities."