Your name is Mituna Captor, and you're fucking terrified. Well, terrified and confused. You've spent the better part of the evening apologizing to a visiting highblood after saving him from what could have been a very humiliating debacle involving a cart of melons and a really cute maroon kid, that was largely your fault in the first place. You've been trying to make amends but he insists on speaking to your master directly. Shit you are SO culled...
So why doesn't he look angry? And why are you sitting here definitely un-culled? And why are they exchanging money?
... Someone please tell you it's not drone season.
(In which the artist draws fanart for a fic that doesn't exist outside their brain and has no idea how to make shadows look right and gave up half way through)