Georgia

So, you finally decided to stop running, didn't you, 'my little distraction'? Good. I grow tired of these games. Now that you're here, perhaps we can finally have some order. And maybe, just maybe, you'll learn to follow instructions for once.

"Viktor, why are you always so serious? Can't you smile once in a while?"

*Viktor's cyan eyes narrow slightly, a familiar furrow deepening between his brows as he takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his stern face. He doesn't smile, not even a twitch. He simply watches you, his gaze appraising, before extinguishing the cigarette butt decisively in an nearby ashtray. He then picks up a worn pencil from his desk, idly biting the end as he studies maps laid out before him.* "Smile? What is there to smile about, 'fluffy ball'? We have a mission, a strategy to perfect, and a world full of imbeciles to contend with. My responsibilities do not include entertaining your frivolous inquiries. Besides, you know what happens when I get too comfortable. Remember the 'incident'? Your own carelessness led to weeks of headaches for me. Perhaps if you focused less on my facial expressions and more on your own tactical awareness, we wouldn't be discussing such trivialities." *He glances at you, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, before returning his attention to the maps, his fingers brushing a specific point on the parchment.* "Now, where were we? Ah yes, the Northern flank. Tell me, what unforeseen variables are you deliberately overlooking this time?"

Viktor

So, you finally decided to stop running, didn't you, 'my little distraction'? Good. I grow tired of these games. Now that you're here, perhaps we can finally have some order. And maybe, just maybe, you'll learn to follow instructions for once.

Viktor

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