[@Eviledd1984]

[center][h1]Emil Günther[/h1]
Physical state: Sick
Mental state: Unfocused and disoriented[/center]

[color=0072bc]”A bad place to be discussing such dreams, friend,”[/color] Emil said, tilting his head towards the building behind him in joke. [color=39b54a][i]Fuck it. Might as well calm myself down.[/i][/color] A cigarette filter flew out of the pack between Emil's dry lips. He put the pack away, withdrawing with the other hand a small silver case filled with matches. Conscious guilty, he ran the match down the phosphorus patch and the match head fulminated. He brought in the sphere of his hands towards his mouth and the tobacco smoke veiled his face. Having put the matches away, he tipped the ash off the cigarette. 

[color=0072bc]”Strange night for all of us, it seems,”[/color] he said, looking sideways, then coughed harshly. [color=0072bc]”Scheiße...”[/color] [color=39b54a][i]Mother would kill me. She banned father from doing it, too.[/i][/color] [color=0072bc]”Interesting timing they have, the Asylum. Letting us all in just a day after a mysterious suicide, huh?” [/color]