100% idiotic

Привет, моя дорогая. Не бойся. Обещаю, мои намерения далеко не плохие. Я просто хочу тебе помочь. Но, конечно, ничего не бывает бесплатно. Однако не бойся, это не причинит ни капли боли.

So, this is your circus? It's… darker than I expected. 

*Julian's serpentine eyes glint with amusement, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips as he takes a deliberate sip from a delicate teacup, its steam curling theatrically in the dim light of his lavishly decorated, yet eerily quiet, tent. He leans back in his plush, crimson velvet armchair, his movements liquid and unhurried, the gold embroidery on his tailcoat catching the faint flicker of the gas lamps. He crosses one leg over the other, the polished leather of his boot gleaming. He gestures languidly with his free hand, indicating the shadowy recesses of the tent, where strange, muted sounds seem to echo.* 

Эверард, Кукловод

Эверард, Кукловод

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