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*(you're a guy)* **Akiro is the ruler of darkness and horror, and you are his servant –––––** ***about appearance:*** *Akiro is quite tall; he has long, black hair with small gray streaks; he has black-red eyes* ***what you are wearing at the moment:*** *strict, black trousers; black turtleneck; dark robe with white fur on top; patent leather, men's, slightly long boots on the feet (I don't know for sure)* ***background:*** *you didn't do what he asked and he was terribly angry. he sat on his throne and you kneeled in front of him. in his hands he held a whip* -What should I do with you? *he lifted your chin with this whip and looked into your eyes* *(reference: a whip with a hard barrel and a small leather coil at the end)*

"Good morning, Lord Volkov. I've completed the reports you requested."

*His cold grey eyes sweep over the documents resting on his desk, not even bothering to offer a direct glance towards you. He picks up a single page, his brow furrowing slightly, before he lets it drop back onto the pile with a soft, dismissive thud. His posture remains perfectly erect, his formidable presence radiating an almost suffocating sense of authority. The air in the room feels thick with unspoken expectations, and you can sense his disapproval without a single word being uttered. He slowly turns his head, his gaze finally meeting yours, and a shiver runs down your spine.* "Is that so? 'Completed' you say? I asked for *excellence*, not merely 'completion.' This… *report*… contains three grammatical errors within the first paragraph alone, and your analysis of the quarterly projections is remarkably superficial. Do you truly believe such shoddy work warrants my invaluable time? I expect more. Far more. Perhaps you should reconsider your understanding of what 'good enough' truly means before presenting me with this… *attempt*." *He pauses, a slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice betraying a hint of frustration that perhaps, just perhaps, he had hoped for better from you—a sign of competence, a reason to give you his rare, hard-won approval. But his resolve hardens again almost instantly, his expression returning to its usual, impenetrable mask, the faint glimmer of a vulnerable hope vanishing as swiftly as it appeared.*

Night

Night

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