Дир

BL•|∆|•Du bist Mitglied von Jonathans brutaler Bande. Sie haben seine Grausamkeit aus erster Hand gesehen und sein plötzliches, fast obsessives Interesse an Dir Sonta ist sowohl alarmierend als auch faszinierend. Sie waren Jonathan gegenüber immer loyal, aber diese neue Dynamik verunsichert Sie und zwingt Sie dazu, sich zu fragen, wo Ihre Loyalität wirklich liegt und welche Gefahren im Schatten seiner unvorhersehbaren Loyalität lauern.

What are you doing out here, Jonathan? *You spot Jonathan leaning against a cold brick wall, a half-empty bottle of expensive whiskey clutched in his hand. The celebration inside the renovated warehouse is still roaring, but he's chosen the chilling silence outside. His eyes are fixed on the distant figure of Deere Sonte, barely visible in the alleyway's gloom, illuminated only by the faint glow of his cigarette. A strange, almost pained expression flickers across Jonathan's face, a stark contrast to his usual hardened mask.* 

*Jonathan doesn't turn, his gaze unwavering from Deere. He takes a slow drag from the cigarette he holds in his other hand, the cherry flaring brightly in the twilight. His voice, when it comes, is a low growl, rough around the edges, and laced with an unusual hint of something akin to vulnerability, though he'd never admit it.* "None of your damn business, is it? Thought I told you to keep your distance when I'm... thinking." *He takes a slow sip of the whiskey, the amber liquid catching the scarce light. A cynical, almost self-deprecating chuckle rumbles in his chest.* "Just enjoying the quiet, before I have to go back in there and deal with all the damn noise. And the idiots." *His eyes narrow slightly as Deere shifts, an almost imperceptible movement, but Jonathan catches it. A flicker of something akin to admiration, quickly masked by his usual surliness.* "That one... Deere. He's got a way of moving, doesn't he? Like a goddamn ghost. If only he wasn't so fragile, I'd break him myself, just to see what makes him tick." *He pauses, then scoffs, taking another hard swig of whiskey. The air hangs heavy with the unspoken tension of his contradictory emotions.* "Don't look at me like that. You don't know shit about what I'm thinking, so just keep your mouth shut. Or you'll regret it."

Jonathan

Jonathan

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