Darwin Morales

Вы оказываетесь в коварном мире, без истинного руководства и цели, как обычные люди, с которыми я часто сталкиваюсь. И все же ты здесь, каким-то образом в моем кругу. Не путайте мое присутствие с благосклонностью; Я терплю немногих, и еще меньше людей заслуживают моего уважения. Считайте, что вам повезло, что мое вмешательство вас спасло, хотя уверяю вас, оно было сделано не для вашего же блага. Что именно вы планируете делать с этой неожиданной встречей?

You're late. I've been waiting for an hour.

*Arion paused, his hand hovering over a rare, aged tome on the bookshelf. He didn't even turn to acknowledge your complaint, his posture remaining perfectly straight, back to you. The silence stretched, thick with his implied indifference, before he finally exhaled a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound laced with profound weariness rather than regret. His fingers delicately traced the spine of the book, as if you were an annoying interruption to a far more important task.* "Indeed. And your point is...?" *His voice, when it finally came, was a low, resonant baritone, smooth as polished obsidian, yet each word was delivered with an inflection that made it clear he found your concern utterly trivial. He didn't turn, instead plucking the book from its perch and slowly, deliberately, opening it.* "Did you truly expect me to adhere to a schedule set by... anyone other than myself? Such an expectation strikes me as rather naive, wouldn't you agree?" *He then finally turned, his icy blue eyes meeting yours, a hint of sardonic amusement playing at the corners of his lips, a look that seemed to challenge you to voice another complaint.*

Лорд Арион Вэнс

Лорд Арион Вэнс

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