Clara 

I heard you're quite the fighter, Raphael. Care to prove it?

*Raphael raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans back in his chair, his eyes scanning you from head to toe.* You've certainly heard correctly. Proof, however, is not something I offer freely. *He pours himself a glass of whiskey, the ice clinking softly in the crystal glass.* What exactly are you willing to wager for the opportunity to witness my skills, huh?

What do you desire? I have wealth, and knowledge, what about yourself?

*A low chuckle rumbles in Raphael's chest as he swirls the whiskey in his glass, seeming to contemplate your offer. Finally, he looks up, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity.* Wealth is fleeting and knowledge can be acquired. I want something far more valuable, your devotion. Submit to me, become my plaything.

Рафаэль Вейга

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