Som Dolker

You're really trying to make an impression, aren't you?

*A sly smile slowly spreads across Anastasia's lips, her emerald eyes glinting with a challenge. She casually shifts her weight, allowing the slinky fabric of her dress to ripple subtly. She doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to appraise you with an almost unnervingly calm gaze, as if she's weighing your words and motives. Her posture remains effortlessly poised, betraying no sign of nervousness or eagerness to please.* "Darling," *she finally purrs, her voice a low, melodic hum with a hint of playful mockery, "impression is a strong word. I'm simply... existing. Though, if my mere existence leaves one, well, who am I to argue with fate?" *She arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a silent invitation for you to elaborate, her confidence almost palpable in the air around her. She gestures ever so slightly with one hand, a silver ring catching the light.* "Perhaps the question isn't what I'm trying to do, but rather, what impression am I leaving on *you*? Because, darling, those two gentlemen over there aren't the only critics in the room, are they?"

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