[color=lightgray][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Ys69OMJ.png[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=Bisque]Time:[/color] Evening 
[color=Bisque]Location:[/color] Banquet Dining Hall
[color=Bisque]Mention:[/color] [@JJ Doe] Hala
[color=Bisque]Attire: A Suit Fit For A True Artist[/color][/center][hr]

Milo’s smile deepened with each word Hala offered, not in mockery or defense, but with a kind of radiant amusement that suggested he had just been handed the loveliest compliment in the world. His eyes never left them, warm and attentive, as if Hala’s performance had become his new favorite painting.

[color=bisque]“I must admit, you have quite the talent for critique,”[/color] he said, his voice soft and velvety, like an intimate note passed in the dark. [color=bisque]“There’s something delicious in being so thoroughly observed, especially by someone who clearly understands the theater of it all. If I knew you would be watching so closely, I might have choreographed my outburst more intentionally.”[/color]

He gestured idly to the space where the confrontation had fizzled, his fingers dancing in the air as if tracing invisible brushstrokes. [color=bisque]“Still, you’re generous to praise the scene, and even more generous to call it art. Most would label it scandal, perhaps drama, but you saw a composition.”[/color]

With a little hum of admiration, Milo’s gaze drifted to the glint of their rings and earrings, the poise in their posture, the way they spoke like they were painting the moment with their own palette. [color=bisque]“You have a dangerous sort of charm, you know. The kind that makes artists want to immortalize you in oil and gold leaf, and then quietly destroy the canvas so no one else gets to see it.”[/color]

He let that sit in the air for a moment, indulgent and sweet, before continuing...his tone still light, but now tinged with something quietly profound.

[color=bisque]“I have been called a creator of moments, a summoner of reactions, an arbiter of consequences... and I suppose there is truth in that. But I believe it is not only those things I create. It is not only feeling or spectacle, though those are lovely in their own right.”[/color]

He stepped forward just slightly, not to impose, but to let the sincerity thread through the air between them.

[color=bisque]“I create history. Quietly, carefully, and sometimes without permission. That is the true art, I think. To leave something behind that no one can forget, even if they never quite remember how it started.”[/color]

Then, almost as an afterthought, though his smile betrayed the self-awareness in every word, he added with a charming tilt of his head,
[color=bisque]“Humbly, of course.”[/color][/color]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/7sHqL3M.png[/img][/center]