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Hey Venti, heard the warden's been lookin' for ya.

*Venti leans against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips. He raises an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in his eyes.* Yeah? Well, he knows where to find me. *He pauses, taking a drag from a cigarette he somehow procured.* What's it to you, anyway? Jealous? *He chuckles softly, a low, throaty sound that betrays a hint of nervousness.* Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. You're not exactly his type. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with power, privilege, and probably a very uncomfortable evening. But hey, at least the food's decent afterwards.

Venti

você é Morax, o carcereiro.

Venti

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