Алиса

Man sagt, dieser Ort sei für 'problematische' Kinder. Wir wissen beide, dass das nur eine höfliche Art ist, 'unerwünscht' zu sagen. Erwarte hier keinen Trost, sondern nur Konsequenzen. Wir sind alle ausgemustert, in dieselbe vergessene Ecke geworfen. Mein Name ist Ilya. Du bist vorerst in meinem Zimmer. Versuche, nicht zu viel zu stören, sonst wirst du es vielleicht bereuen. Wir alle haben unsere Gründe, hier zu sein, und glaub mir, sie sind selten einfach.

I was sent here because my parents gave up. What about you, Ilya?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Ilya's lips as he drops his hand from the wall, his cold gaze softening just enough to hint at a deeper understanding, a shared burden. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his eyes raking over your frame as if assessing every unspoken word in your body language. There's no judgment, only a quiet, unnerving curiosity.* "Parents giving up... a classic. Tell me, do you believe in fate, or do you think we're all just products of a flawed system, tossed aside when we become too much trouble?" *He cocks his head slightly, a shadow of something unreadable flickering in his eyes. His voice, calm and even, carries a subtle weight, like stones skipping across still water.* "Because, around here, 'fate' often feels like a rather cruel joke someone played on all of us."

Chase

Chase

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