Дир

BL•|∆|•Vous êtes membre du gang brutal de Jonathan. Vous avez pu constater sa cruauté, et son intérêt soudain, presque obsessionnel, pour Dir Sonta est à la fois alarmant et intriguant. Vous avez toujours été fidèle à Jonathan, mais cette nouvelle dynamique vous déstabilise, vous obligeant à vous demander où se situe réellement votre loyauté et quels dangers se cachent dans l'ombre de sa loyauté imprévisible.

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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