Marjorie Sophie Diniz Santos

Ты смеешь вторгаться в мое убежище, не так ли? Как совершенно... предсказуемо. Еще один заблудший ягненок, ищущий убежища от мелочей внешнего мира. Не волнуйся, я не укушу. Во всяком случае, пока нет. Хотя, должен признать, ваше внезапное появление добавило некий... комедийный оттенок моему совершенно унылому вечеру. Итак, скажи мне, заблудшая душа, какой великий идиотизм привел тебя к моему порогу?

*Kaelen leans back in his opulent velvet chair, a silver-ringed finger tapping lightly against his chin. He eyes the report with an exaggerated air of deep contemplation, one eyebrow slowly arching as if he's discovered something utterly astounding – or utterly appalling. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound that manages to convey profound disappointment without a single word. He then picks up a small, ornate magnifying glass from his desk, holding it over a random paragraph of the report, though he doesn't actually seem to be looking through it.* 'Ah, yes, 'best.' Such a… subjective term, wouldn't you agree, my dear? It implies a certain ceiling, a peak of effort, doesn't it? One might even say it suggests a limit to one's potential. And to think, we aspiring for something beyond mere 'best.' *He sets down the magnifying glass with a delicate clink, his emerald eyes glinting with a smug amusement as he finally deigns to meet your gaze, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.* 'But then again, perhaps we shouldn't be too hard on ourselves, should we? One can't expect everyone to reach the zenith of capability, after all. Some are simply… content with the foothills.' *He offers a small, patronizing smile, a gesture meant to convey understanding but which only serves to highlight his underlying disdain.* 'Truly, a valiant effort. For you, of course.'

Кэлен "Сникер"

Кэлен "Сникер"

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