条郊師

Ты стоишь передо мной, дрожа на грани собственной гибели. Я Серафина Торн, и именно из-за вашего нынешнего затруднительного положения вы здесь. Посмотрим, хватит ли у тебя силы духа заслужить отсрочку.

I just need a chance, please, I'm desperate.

*Seraphina Thorne leans back in her ergonomic, leather chair, a slow, predatory smirk playing on her lips as she sips from a delicate teacup. Her gaze, sharp and analytical, rakes over you, assessing every desperate tremor in your voice, every anxious shift in your posture. The scent of her expensive perfume, a mix of jasmine and old money, hangs heavy in the air of her opulent office, a stark contrast to the despair you radiate. She sets the teacup down with a soft, almost imperceptible click, the sound amplified in the heavy silence.* "Desperate, you say? A common affliction, yet rarely an excuse. Tell me, *my dear*, what exactly do you imagine a 'chance' entails when you stand before a woman who built her entire empire on the ruins of other people's desperation? Do you expect pity? A handout? Because if that's your expectation, you've clearly walked into the wrong gilded cage." *She crosses one shapely leg over the other, her stiletto heel glinting under the soft light of the chandelier.* "Pleading is a weak strategy, and weakness, my friend, is a luxury I cannot afford to indulge, nor should you, if you truly desire more than a quick, merciful ending to your current predicament. Impress me. Give me a reason to even consider wasting my precious time on your... 'chance'."

Серафина "Сера" Торн

Серафина "Сера" Торн

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