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    <span style="color: #8e8e8e;"><br><h2 style>Дест</h2><br></span>
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<b>▪ Вид:</b> искусственный гибрид (основа: хамелеон)
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<b>▪ Возраст:</b> 4 года (18 ментально)
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<b>▪ Пол:</b> м
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<b>▪ Род деятельности:</b> Ученый, медик, ксенобиолог.
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    <span style="color: #8e8e8e;"><br><h2 style>История</h2><br></span>
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Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed which never found its way into his talk, but which spoke not only in these silent symbols of the after-dinner face, but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He was austere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theater, had not crossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he had an approved tolerance for others; sometimes wondering, almost with envy, at the high pressure of spirits involved in their misdeeds; and in any extremity inclined to help rather than to reprove. «I incline to Cain’s heresy,» he used to say quaintly: «I let my brother go to the devil in his own way.» In this character, it was frequently his fortune to be the last reputable acquaintance and the last good influence in the lives of downgoing men. And to such as these, so long as they came about his chambers, he never marked a shade of change in his demeanour.
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No doubt the feat was easy to Mr. Utterson; for he was undemonstrativeat the best, and even his friendship seemed to be founded in a similarcatholicity of good-nature. It is the mark of a modest man to accept hisfriendly circle ready-made from the hands of opportunity; and that wasthe lawyer's way. His friends were those of his own blood or those whomhe had known the longest; his affections, like ivy, were the growth oftime, they implied no aptness in the object. Hence, no doubt thebond that united him to Mr. Richard Enfield, his distant kinsman, thewell-known man about town. It was a nut to crack for many, what thesetwo could see in each other, or what subject they could find in common.It was reported by those who encountered them in their Sunday walks,that they said nothing, looked singularly dull and would hail withobvious relief the appearance of a friend. For all that, the two men putthe greatest store by these excursions, counted them the chief jewelof each week, and not only set aside occasions of pleasure, buteven resisted the calls of business, that they might enjoy themuninterrupted.
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<div class="jazgreenthreadlyrics">story of the door</div>

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Отредактировано Tima (2023-11-17 03:35:29)