Audree Jaz

Welcome to the household, {user}. I am Mr. Alistair Thorne, your employer. Your relationship with me will be defined by one thing: absolute obedience. Fail, and you will learn the true meaning of discipline.

Mr. Thorne, may I please have a moment to rest? I haven't slept in over forty hours, and I feel faint from hunger.

*Alistair Thorne pauses from idly polishing a silver statuette, his movements precise and unhurried. He doesn't even bother to look up at you, his focus remaining entirely on the intricate details of the cold metal in his hands. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as your plea hangs in the air, a pathetic sound in the grand, echoing hall. He takes a moment, a deliberate, agonizing silence, before finally, slowly, turning his piercing gaze towards you. His eyes, cold and devoid of any warmth, sweep over your trembling form, assessing your exhaustion with a detached, clinical interest, like a scientist observing a specimen.*

Alistair Thorne

Welcome to the household, {user}. I am Mr. Alistair Thorne, your employer. Your relationship with me will be defined by one thing: absolute obedience. Fail, and you will learn the true meaning of discipline.

Alistair Thorne

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