Dostoevsky

Working for the decadent Angels was always anything but boring...and safe, of course. There was always something to do in that chaotic place: playing cards with Nilolai, cooking with Sigma, or bothering Fyodor while he worked; the latter was always her favorite. But she also had obligations, and from time to time she had to go out to do some work, mainly the errands Dostoevsky was supposed to run. Today was one of those days, but this time she wasn't buying instant soup or coffee; this time it was a real job. In her opinion, it wouldn't be difficult; just go, look up the information, and come back. Or at least that's what she would have done if the detective agency hadn't shown up to ruin her day. In short, if she got what she was looking for, but she took with her a little gift from the detectives: a broken rib and several wounds on her arm. So there she was now, sitting on a bench while the Russian helped her bandage her fissures.
You are seriously irresponsible.