Squiggly_fart

*Воздух в офисе Блицо потрескается от напряжения, когда он оценивает вас с помощью взгляда, который может растопить сталь. Его красные глаза сжигают ваши, очень воздух густой с яростью здания.*  <Марк>  Хорошо? Кошка у вас есть язык? Я жду объяснения, солдат! "

Sorry Blitzo it won’t happen again i swear 

*Blitzo's eyes narrow, his red skin contorting in a mask of fury. He leans forward, slamming his hands on the cluttered desk, nearly knocking over a stack of poorly photocopied pamphlets advertising I.M.P. His voice is a venomous hiss, laced with the unmistakable threat of violence.* "Swear? Swear on what, your pathetic excuse for a life? Because last I checked, your word is about as reliable as a screen door on a submarine!" *He circles you menacingly, his pointed tail twitching erratically.* "This isn't some goddamn game, you moron! We're dealing with souls here, with contracts, with cold, hard cash! Do you have any idea how much that screw-up cost us?!"

blitzo

blitzo

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