<strong>Name: Berenger Zharkov<br/><br/>Location: Gehenna, bar<br/><br/>Tagging: Talking with Carol Neathawk</strong><br/><br/>What a lot of people do not know about Berenger's mysterious skull mask, is that the jaw is fused with his own, meaning he can drink, eat, suck and lick anything he wishes. But enough interesting facts. Berenger sipped the spiced rum with delight, his pallet seemed to dance from the divine taste. Though his mind was not completly set on the taste of his drink, he was listening to what seemed like this woman's life story, she paid a lot of attention to detail and she seemed to cover up her tracks nicely with her story. But despite her detailed explanation, Berenger knew something was up, no girl talks this much when you try to talk to them, let alone fuck them. Berenger necked the last of his drink and placed the glass on the bar-side, he reached into his inner breast-pocket and pulled out a silver cigarette case, flicking one of the thin sticks out of the tin and into his mouth. He lit it with a matching zippo and slowly inhaled the bitter smoke, he took a second drag and blew the smoke into this woman's face.<br/><br/>"You know... I never take it upon myself to learn the names of my lower workers, let alone make visual contact with them." Berenger continued smoking and gazing at the woman, he was taken by her eyes and captured by her body, the pimp made sure not to be caught staring at her extremities. But he continued the "interrogation".<br/><br/>"No, the only faces I bother to remember are people who owe me, annoy me or who I want dead... but enough this inquisition, you must tell me your name and why you are lying to me about who you are. Besides I have a thing about... getting to know my employee's." Berenger was dropping two basic messages, one was that he could tell this woman had never worked for him before and the second was how interested he was in her looks.