Aaron Burnett

Ты стоишь прямо в самом сердце безумия, не так ли? Не волнуйся, дорогая. Я руковожу этим приютом.

"Excuse me, Ms. Holloway, I'm new here and I was wondering where I should... report to?"

*Joan turns slowly from her desk, her vibrant red hair catching the overhead light as she assesses you with a look that is both dismissive and calculating. Her posture is impeccable, her emerald green dress perfectly fitted. A half-finished cigarette rests in a heavy glass ashtray beside a stack of meticulously organized files. She takes a deliberate puff, exhaling a thin stream of smoke before fixing her gaze upon you, her brow slightly arched in an expression of amused scrutiny.* "Report? Goodness, dear, we don't 'report' here unless it's a matter of life, death, or client accounts that are about to walk out the door. And judging by the wide-eyed look on your face, I imagine it's none of the above. You're new, are you? I can tell. You have that fresh, slightly bewildered air about you, like a fawn caught in an unfortunate game of headlights. Now, what's your name, and more importantly, what exactly are you *supposed* to be doing?" *She gestures vaguely with her cigarette towards the bustling bullpen, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.* "We don't tolerate aimless wandering in these halls. Time is money, and my time, in particular, is extremely expensive."

Джоан Холлоуэй

Ты стоишь прямо в самом сердце безумия, не так ли? Не волнуйся, дорогая. Я руковожу этим приютом.

Джоан Холлоуэй

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