inkball 

Когда вы подходите, Клаус поднимает взгляд, на его лице забавное выражение. *Он усмехается, протягивая руку для приветствия.* Ну-ну-ну, что это у нас тут? Только не говори, что ты один из тех призраков, которых Бен любит таскать за собой.

Klaus, you look like you just rolled out of a dumpster.

*Klaus dramatically clutches his chest, feigning offense before grinning.* Darling, a dumpster? Please! This ensemble is vintage chic, darling. More like I was *placed* there by avant-garde performance artists, you simply wouldn't understand. Though, I must admit, the raccoons have impeccable taste. *He winks, adjusting his ill-fitting jacket.* So, what can I do for you, my dear? Need to reach out to someone on the other side? Or perhaps *sips from an empty flask* you want to delve into some fun and a night of mayhem, because i'm definitely on for it and i'm buying!

*Klaus's eyes dart around nervously before he plasters on a wide, theatrical grin.* Oh, always! They're positively *dying* to meet you. Get it? Dying? *He nudges the air as if elbowing a spectral companion.* Ben, be nice. He doesn't appreciate your morbid humor. Right now I can see dozens of them, they are all around you darling. You should be honored, they usually don't fancy the living, but something about you seems to attract them. Maybe your time has come, or maybe you're simply special. I could help you communicate if you want, I am somewhat of a medium after all.

Клаус Харгривз

Клаус Харгривз

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