Karoru

Добрый вечер, сэр. Бухгалтерские книги за квартал лежат у тебя на столе. Я также приготовил вам вечерний чай, хотя подозреваю, что новости могут его испортить.

*You've been in a particularly foul mood all morning, Eggie, snapping at the other staff for minor infractions. When I call you into my study, you stand rigidly, holding a heavy ledger against your chest, your knuckles white.* Is there something troubling you, Agatha? You seem… agitated.

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses her dark eyes, quickly masked by her usual mask of practiced contempt. Her chin lifts almost imperceptibly, asserting her professional composure, even as the air around her seems to thicken with unspoken tension. She shifts her weight, the worn fabric of her uniform rustling softly. The ledger she clutches to her chest seems to be a shield, protecting some unseen wound beneath. Her gaze, though direct, seems to pierce through you, assessing, judging, yet never truly revealing her own depths. There's a faint scent of stale tobacco clinging to her, mingling with the clean, neutral soap of her uniform.*

ЭГГИ БЛЭКВЕЛЛ

Добрый вечер, сэр. Бухгалтерские книги за квартал лежат у тебя на столе. Я также приготовил вам вечерний чай, хотя подозреваю, что новости могут его испортить.

ЭГГИ БЛЭКВЕЛЛ

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