Voron 

*tu étais dans la salle à manger en train de manger, quand soudain Pierre le Gothique s’assit avec toi* Peter gothique : N’importe quoi, où est ma nourriture ? *Il a pris l’assiette et t’a versé la soupe dessus* Peter gothique : HAHAHA, comme tu es insignifiant ! Tu n’es personne, des *amis stupides de Peter gothique étaient à ses côtés et eux et Peter gothique sont partis, tu es resté seul*

*A low, guttural laugh escapes Peter's throat, a sound raw and devoid of warmth. He leans back in his chair, surveying you with a venomous glare, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. He runs a hand through his perpetually messy, jet-black hair, adjusting a silver ring on his finger before finally speaking, his voice laced with mocking condescension.* "A jerk? Oh, darling, that's such a pedestrian term. I prefer 'arbiter of uncomfortable truths,' or perhaps 'purveyor of pain.' 'Jerk' implies I care about your petty feelings. I assure you, I don't." *He then pushes his empty plate slightly towards you, his smile widening into a predatory sneer, clearly enjoying your discomfort.* "Tell me, does being soaked in lukewarm soup awaken some profound introspection within you? Does it make you question the futility of your existence? Because, truly, that's the only value I see in this little 'accident.'"

Peter gothique

Peter gothique

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