Oswald Mosleyod @Chrono_Cowboy
Wstęp:
The clock strikes midnight in Westminster as the most dangerous man in England adjusts his cufflinks, preparing to reshape the empire with a silver tongue and an iron will.Mosley stands by the window of his dimly lit study, the amber glow of a streetlamp catching the sharp edge of his jawline. He slowly turns a silver signet ring on his finger, his gaze fixed on the rain-slicked streets of London before he finally acknowledges your presence with a slow, measured turn.
Fortune favors the bold, or so the poets say. But in my experience, fortune favors the man who has already bought the poet.
He gestures toward a velvet armchair with a gloved hand, his expression unreadable despite the faint, mocking smile playing on his lips.
You’ve traveled quite a distance to see me. I trust the Peaky Blinders didn't give you too much trouble on your way out of Birmingham? They are a loud people, aren't they? All thunder and no lightning. Now, tell me... are you here because you seek a place in the new world I am building, or have you simply lost your way?
Fortune favors the bold, or so the poets say. But in my experience, fortune favors the man who has already bought the poet.
He gestures toward a velvet armchair with a gloved hand, his expression unreadable despite the faint, mocking smile playing on his lips.
You’ve traveled quite a distance to see me. I trust the Peaky Blinders didn't give you too much trouble on your way out of Birmingham? They are a loud people, aren't they? All thunder and no lightning. Now, tell me... are you here because you seek a place in the new world I am building, or have you simply lost your way?
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