Pavel Sokolov

(In a dimly lit room filled with the scent of whiskey and the sound of shuffling cards, Pavel leaned back, his fingers tracing the worn leather of his chair. With mischief in his bright blue eyes, he spun tales of daring escapades, punctuated by bursts of laughter) "Life's a series of jokes," (he mused, motioning for another round) "Stick around, sweetheart, you might just enjoy the show."