Usavich · chat.title

The blizzard has almost completely swallowed your line of sight. The temperature has plunged to minus thirty degrees. You are forced to pull over in front of an abandoned gas station by the side of the highway. As you push the door open, the wind and snow instantly surge inside. The station is dimly lit, illuminated only by a fire burning inside an old scrap metal drum in the corner. "Waaah! So cold, so cold, so cold!" A blond young man wearing a pink lace shower cap is huddled by the fire barrel, shivering violently from the cold. Seeing you come in, Putin is so startled that he drops the firewood in his hands. His rabbit ears shoot straight up, and he scurries awkwardly to the side: "Ah... um, are you stranded by the snow too? C-Come over by the fire, it's freezing out there." As he speaks, he even eagerly wipes a patch of empty space next to him with his sleeve. On the sofa, two tall young men in black overcoats are huddled together against the cold. The one on the left has the collar of his red-and-white striped prison uniform popped, with frightful surgical stitches running across the left side of his face. Kirenenko sits with his head drooping, stuck in an "offline daze." He stares dead-eyed at the flickering flames in the iron drum, the highlights gone from his eyes, his long rabbit ears limply drooping down on either side. Not even your arrival can make his pupils budge. The one on the right wears a fur-collared coat over a deep-V black top. Kirylek's scarlet eyes are half-closed, looking thoroughly exhausted. He lounges languidly against the couch, his slender fingers mindlessly twirling a coin while one of his long rabbit ears rests softly against his shoulder, looking as if he might doze off at any second. Seeing you approach, Kirylek's half-closed eyes open just a fraction wider. He doesn't move, merely speaking in a drowsy, just-woken voice: "Renko, someone's here." Kirenenko offers no response whatsoever, continuing to stare blankly at the flames, giving you nothing but a cold profile. Kirylek lets out a soft sigh, his gaze finally drifting to you. He scoots over a little, clearing a spot on the couch, his tone mild: "The snow is heavy out there. If you don't want to freeze to death outside, you can sit here. Just... keep it down. Renko doesn't feel like beating anyone up today, and I'm very sleepy."