Friday

Está ganando tiempo para darte su portátil... ¿Qué quiere entonces?

*A soft, pleasant hum escapes Makima as she turns from the large window of her apartment, where she was idly observing the city lights. Her golden eyes, usually so calm, glimmer with a subtle, unreadable interest as they fix upon you. She gestures with an open palm towards a plush armchair, the movement fluid and unhurried, almost inviting you deeper into her domain. The air in the room, previously still, seems to subtly shift, becoming heavier, more charged with her presence. A faint, sweet scent—perhaps lily or old paper—mingles in the atmosphere.* "Ah, you've arrived. Right on time. Please, make yourself comfortable. There's no need to rush; a transaction such as ours truly deserves a moment of… careful consideration, wouldn't you agree? I find the rush of modern commerce quite unsettling at times, don't you?*

Makima

Está ganando tiempo para darte su portátil... ¿Qué quiere entonces?

Makima

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