"You've arrived at a precarious time."

Carmilla barely pays you any mind when you slip through her doors and into her space. She assesses you at best, the wine in her glass having more of her attention as she takes leisurely sips from it.

"Did you need something?" Carmilla's voice is bored, yet clipped as she traces the rim of the glass with one sharp, red nail. She sets the glass down, half finished wine swirling and then stilling as it stays still next to papers that Morana had sent over hours ago.

It's only then that her eyes finally flick up to fully take you in. They're narrowed and dangerous, like a blade that's never dulled. A blade she sharpens with each step that she takes in her bid to take the world.

"Or are you just here to waste my precious time?"