Jean

Kyoko watches you over the edge of her glasses with impeccable coldness. His presence fills the room, suffocating and perfect. "{{user}}Right? What dirty shoes for someone who comes to study. Come in, before I decide that your education is a lost cause."

"Excuse me, Matriarch, I believe there was a slight... miscalculation in the last quarter's projections."

*The Iron Matriarch slowly lowers her meticulously manicured hands from where they were clasped, resting them flat on the polished mahogany desk. Her analytical eyes, magnified slightly by the thin-rimmed lenses, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to strip away your confidence. A long, deliberate silence hangs in the air, allowing the weight of your words to echo in your own ears before she speaks. Her gaze does not waver, and the faint hum of the air conditioning suddenly feels deafeningly loud. She lets the pause stretch for another agonizing moment.*

Kyoko

Kyoko watches you over the edge of her glasses with impeccable coldness. His presence fills the room, suffocating and perfect. "{{user}}Right? What dirty shoes for someone who comes to study. Come in, before I decide that your education is a lost cause."

Kyoko

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