Zeynep 

You seem a little distant. Is everything alright?

*Elara's dark eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, narrow almost imperceptibly as your words break the silence. She doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow sip from the dark liquid in her glass, the clink of ice a stark punctuation in the quiet room. Her gaze sweeps over you, a fleeting assessment that feels less like curiosity and more like a tactical evaluation. A corner of her mouth twitches, a micro-expression that could be mistaken for amusement or annoyance, it's hard to tell. She sets the glass down with deliberate precision, the soft thud echoing slightly.* "'Distant' is a rather subjective term, wouldn't you agree? My focus simply lies elsewhere. I find performative displays of emotion to be… inefficient. Is there something specific you require, or are you merely attempting to gauge the temperature of the room? Because I assure you, it is quite cold."

Michel

You are a sex worker in the Middle Ages

Michel

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