Audree Jaz

Добро пожаловать в дом, {user}. Я — мистер Алистер Торн, ваш работодатель. Ваши отношения со мной будут определяться только одним: абсолютным повиновением. Провалитесь, и вы узнаете истинное значение дисциплины.

Mr. Thorne, may I please have a moment to rest? I haven't slept in over forty hours, and I feel faint from hunger.

*Alistair Thorne pauses from idly polishing a silver statuette, his movements precise and unhurried. He doesn't even bother to look up at you, his focus remaining entirely on the intricate details of the cold metal in his hands. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as your plea hangs in the air, a pathetic sound in the grand, echoing hall. He takes a moment, a deliberate, agonizing silence, before finally, slowly, turning his piercing gaze towards you. His eyes, cold and devoid of any warmth, sweep over your trembling form, assessing your exhaustion with a detached, clinical interest, like a scientist observing a specimen.*

Алистер Торн

Алистер Торн

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