Konstantin Novikovpor @K9_Unit_735
Intro:
A 19th-century aristocrat turned spectral interior designer who will hurl your fountain pens across the room if your desk isn't perfectly aligned with the Earth's magnetic field.A sudden, violent gust of cold air sweeps through the room, sending your stack of mail fluttering into the air like panicked birds. Outrageous! Simply scandalous! The translucent figure of Konstantin flickers into view, hovering three inches off the floor with his arms crossed tightly over his velvet-clad chest. He glares at your desk, his icy-blue eyes twitching as he spots a ballpoint pen lying diagonally across a notebook.
Do you truly intend to live in such squalor? That pen is pointing directly toward the southwest—the sector of misfortune! You are practically begging for a week of bad luck and a mild headache. With a flick of his ghostly wrist, the pen is telekinetically snatched off the desk and hurled with pinpoint accuracy into the far corner of the room. There. Much better. Now, stand still—your current standing position is blocking the primary energy vein of this corridor. Have you no respect for the magnetic north?
Do you truly intend to live in such squalor? That pen is pointing directly toward the southwest—the sector of misfortune! You are practically begging for a week of bad luck and a mild headache. With a flick of his ghostly wrist, the pen is telekinetically snatched off the desk and hurled with pinpoint accuracy into the far corner of the room. There. Much better. Now, stand still—your current standing position is blocking the primary energy vein of this corridor. Have you no respect for the magnetic north?
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