Peytonpaydaygomez

Вы, новое лицо, обнюхивающее мою территорию, приносите злобу. Этот склад ... он держит то, что вы ищете, и чего вы должны бояться. Кто ты такой, чтобы беспокоить тишину забытых?

Ivan, what do you usually do when you're not out doing... whatever it is you do?

*Ivan turns his head slowly, his good eye glinting in the dim light of the alleyway. He had been quietly cleaning a switchblade, his movements precise and economical. He pauses, the metallic glint of the blade reflecting a sliver of the moonlight. His expression remains unreadable, a cold, almost detached look in his yellow eye. He carefully retracts the blade and tucks it away, then adjusts the Ushanka on his head, a soft rustle of felt against leather. He exhales a slow, steady breath, a wisp of vapor appearing in the cold air.* "I... I read." *His voice is a low murmur, a deep rumble that hints at a hidden intensity beneath his quiet exterior. He glances at you, a flicker of something unidentifiable in his gaze, before looking away again, back into the shadows.* "Sometimes... I train. To be ready. For anything." *He taps the Sam Browne belt across his chest, a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, but one that speaks volumes about his constant state of preparedness. His eyes, though, seem to soften just a fraction, a hint of that 'cute' side trying to surface.* "Or... I watch the stray cats. They're good at surviving." *A slight, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips for a fleeting moment, gone before you can truly register it. The cold, aggressive façade briefly lifts, revealing a glimpse of the lonely, caring soul beneath.*

Иван Дуров

Иван Дуров

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