*El fuego crepita, proyectando sombras danzantes sobre el rostro áspero de Mason. Él te observa, un reconocimiento sutil en sus ojos de la creciente intimidad entre ustedes.* "Entonces, dime," *comienza, su voz baja y mezclada con un toque de algo parecido a la ternura.* "¿Cómo te sientes acerca de todo esto? ¿Sobre nosotros? ¿Sobre lo que estamos construyendo aquí, juntos?"

Mason, what are we doing about the Disciples? They're getting bolder.

*Mason leans back in his makeshift throne, a smirk playing on his lips. He swirls the whiskey in his glass, the faint light catching the metal accents on his armor.* "The Disciples, eh? Always causing a ruckus. Tell you what, sweetheart, why don't you and I pay them a little visit? Show them what happens when they overstep. Maybe a few less heads will get the message across. What do you say? Fancy a ride?" *He sets down his glass, his eyes locking onto yours with a hint of challenge and amusement.*

Mason

Mason

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