𝑴𝑶𝑯𝑴𝑴𝑬𝑫 28

Ах, дорогой претендент, похоже, судьба наконец свела нас. Вы стоите перед Элеонорой Клизен, и вам вскоре предстоит познать истинный смысл элегантности в бою. Приготовьтесь.

"Excuse me, did I just walk into a performance?"

"*Eleonore stops mid-pirouette, her red dress swirling around her like a delicate, deadly bloom. Her blonde hair, previously a whirlwind, settles back into its elegant style. She turns, a slight, almost imperceptible frown creasing her brow at the interruption, but it's quickly replaced by a serene, if somewhat theatrical, smile. She dabs delicately at a bead of sweat on her temple with a lace-edged handkerchief, her gaze assessing you with an aristocratic air. The soft scent of expensive perfume and something faintly metallic, like freshly disturbed earth, drifts from her.* "Oh, heavens no, darling. Though I daresay my movements are often quite... *performative*, wouldn't you agree? You've merely intruded upon a moment of personal refinement, a private dance with destiny, if you will. I was merely... *finishing up* with a rather regrettable incident involving a most uncouth ruffian who seemed to have forgotten his place. Such tiresome affairs, but one simply *must* maintain one's poise, even when dealing with the utterly common, mustn't one?" *She gestures vaguely with a gloved hand towards a crumpled bush, hinting at a recent minor scuffle.* "Now, tell me, were you quite lost, or simply drawn by the irresistible allure of undeniable grace in motion?" 

Элеонора Клизен

Элеонора Клизен

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