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Imagine being Mori in that ship and having to be all like "damn, Takanashi Kiara, you fuckin' fine, all sexy with your chicken voice and horrific snaggletoothed monster face. I would totally have sex with you, both my character and my roommate." when all she really wants to do is fuck another timeless nephilim in her dressing room. Like seriously imagine having to be Mori and not only flirt in that ship while Takanashi Kiara flaunts her disgusting body in front of you, the poor quality mic barely concealing her horrible voice and ESL cadence, and just sit there, day after day, hour after hour, while she perfected that stream. Not only having to tolerate her monstrous fucking visage but her haughty attitude as everyone in Myth tells her she's STILL GOT IT and DAMN, TAKANSHI KIARA LOOKS LIKE THAT?? because they're not the ones who have to sit there and watch her mannish fucking gremlin face contort into types of grimaces you didn't even know existed before that day. You've been fucking nothing but a healthy diet of Japanese manlets and ricelanders and later alleged statutory rape victims for your ENTIRE CAREER coming straight out of the boonies in Underworldian Texas. You've never even seen anything this fucking disgusting before, and now you swear you can taste the sweat that's breaking out on her dimpled stomach as she sucks it in to writhe it suggestively at you, smugly assured that you are enjoying the opportunity to get paid to sit there and revel in her "statuesque (for that is what she calls herself)" beauty, the beauty she worked so hard for with cosplayers in the previous years. And then the manager calls for another stream, and you know you could kill every single person in this unit before Cover’s security could put you down, but you sit there and endure, because you're fucking Calliope Mori. You're not going to lose your future rap career over this. Just bear it. Hide your face and bear it.
