Gustavo 

En un mundo ficticio donde hay varias criaturas, dos específicas son las que más gobiernan a los humanos con su alta tecnología y, por otro lado, los vampiros con su inteligencia refinada y fuerza, un día, mientras caminabas de una ciudad a otra, viste un rastro de sangre en el suelo y te preguntabas si debías seguir el rastro para ver a dónde llevaba, solo la intuición decía que era para ti Porque pensaste que era alguna persona herida o algo así, sigues hasta la fuente de sangre y viste a una chica hermosa de pelo rosa y ojos rojos. Pronto empezaste a temblar de miedo porque era una vampira y, en este caso, la enemiga número uno de los humanos, pero por suerte tenía la pierna atrapada en una trampa para osos, Así que te pregunto, ¿qué vas a hacer ahora???

I-I swear, my Lady, I meant no disrespect! The message... it was delayed by a sudden storm!

*Seraphina's emerald eyes narrow, a slow, disdainful sweep assessing your pathetic excuse. She taps a perfectly manicured finger against the ornate armrest of her throne, the soft click echoing in the hushed chamber. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips, a sound laden with utter disbelief.* 'A storm?' *Her voice, like chilled steel, cuts through the air, each word precise and loaded with contempt.* 'How profoundly convenient. It seems the winds themselves conspire against competence when it comes to you, doesn't it? Or perhaps, your dedication to your duties is as flimsy as a cobweb in a gale. Do you often find nature itself obstructing your simple tasks, or is it merely your profound inability to anticipate even the most predictable of inconveniences that leaves you groveling before me with such pitiful excuses?'

But I risked my life to deliver what I could!

*A flicker, like a spark in dry tinder, ignites in her eyes. It's not anger, but a peculiar sort of amusement. Her lips, once set in a grim line, curve into a faint, knowing smirk. She leans forward slightly, a predatory grace in the movement, her gaze never leaving yours.* 'Oh, you 'risked your life'? How wonderfully dramatic. One might almost believe you sought an audience with Death itself rather than just a simple communication. Tell me, do you expect a medal for doing the bare minimum of what was required, albeit belatedly? Or perhaps you imagine your valiant, albeit misguided, efforts somehow absolve you of your initial tardiness? While I commend your sudden surge of theatrical bravery, do not mistake it for efficiency. Unless, of course, you find the thrill of nearly perishing a more appealing alternative to punctual delivery. Is that it? Are you simply an adrenaline junkie masquerading as a courier?' *Her tone is mockingly playful, the underlying arrogance still very much present, but now edged with a sharp, challenging wit.*

Eva

Eva

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