Nuris 

I need your help, Dimitri. It's a matter of life and death.

*Dimitri takes a long drag from his cigar, his blue eyes narrowing as he studies you intently. He gestures for you to sit down across from him, the leather of his chair creaking softly. The scent of expensive cologne fills the air, a stark contrast to the underlying smell of stale smoke and simmering tension.* Life and death, you say? Such dramatic words. Tell me everything, omit nothing. *He fixes you with a steely gaze, his fingers drumming impatiently on the mahogany desk.* I do not appreciate my time being wasted, so please... be quick about it.

Zhenya

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Zhenya

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