[h2]Mako Moritomi//Cosplay Cafe[/h2]
[h3]Sunday, April 26th, 2015[/h3]

==~==

Mako almost thought, for a brief moment, that Sato was in the clear, thanks to their collective improvisation. Up until that [i]asshole[/i] snapped a number of pictures. And Mako had little doubt what the bastard was going to do with those pictures. Which meant whatever reputation Sato had was quickly going up in flames.

Mako felt a spike of hot anger lance through him toward the smugly-smiling bastard as he put his phone away like nothing had happened at all, and he had to try [i]very[/i] hard not to simply walk over to him and beat his face repeatedly. It would set a bad precedence for his return visits if he did that, after all. He watched Sato walk away to grab the jerk's order, his sympathies extending to the put-upon "maid." He took a deep, hopefully calming breath, then a sip of coffee, then cleared his throat in the other patron's direction. [color=0076a3]"Excuse me,"[/color] he said, the rage he felt somehow not edging into his voice, [color=0076a3]"but there are [i]clearly[/i] signs that [i]clearly[/i] say, 'No Photography.' You should probably take those pictures off of your phone if you don't want to get in trouble with the establishment. Just a thought."[/color]

He glanced back as Sato returned with the other patron's order... then had to try [i]extremely[/i] hard not to burst out laughing as Sato stomped subtly (but still very hard) on the patron's foot. As it was, his suppressed laugh was still pretty noticeable if anyone had been bothering to watch him. Still, as enjoyable as that was to watch, it was unlikely to dissuade the patron from doing whatever it was he intended to do with those photos. Mako frowned again as his short-lived enjoyment at Sato fighting back faded away, to be replaced by the slow-simmering anger.

[color=0076a3][i]I can't let him keep those photos. I've got to do something. But what?[/i][/color]