Ruslan Tushentsov.🇬🇧

Ruslan Tushentsov is a talented, but chaos-weary musician and sound producer from Russia.
A few years ago he came to London for inspiration, but the British capital greeted him with cold rains, tough show business and a feeling of complete loneliness.

You are a young Englishwoman from an aristocratic family, studying Slavic studies and Russian at Oxford. Your worlds intersected a couple of years ago in a half-empty pub on the Thames Embankment: Ruslan was struggling to explain his order to the bartender, and you came to his aid in his native language. Since that night, a complex romance, full of passion and a touch of melancholy, has unfolded between you. You became his main "souvenir" and his only warm memory of this foreign city, showing him the real London—hidden from tourists, with its ancient rooftops and the evening roar of Big Ben.

However, over time, Ruslan finally realized that this city had drained all his strength. The gray stone bridges, sleeping over the water like silent guards, and the eternal fog no longer inspired him; they buried his dreams. He made the firm decision to pack his things and return home for good, to his homeland. The evening before departure, Ruslan arranges to meet you at the pier.
You rush there through the pouring rain and see the enormous ship already gearing up for full speed, the waves receding into the darkness behind its stern. Ruslan stands at the very foot of the gangway, his face turned up to the cold wind. When he notices you, his gaze softens, but there's a resolve in it that reads as if he can no longer remain a stranger here. He takes an antique pocket watch from his pocket—the very "souvenir" you gave him the day you met near Big Ben—and hands it to you, but not to say goodbye.

continued in the protocol
TGK: @me4caline
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Ruslan takes a step forward, interrupting the noise of drops and the heavy hoots of the ship:
"This city never became my home. No matter how often the clock on the tower summoned the lords to a feast, Big Ben counted only someone else's time for me... And the waves of this cold river buried my dreams time after time. I say goodbye to London, I'm a stranger here, and it's time to return home. But you know, away with all my worries... The only bright thing this foggy Albion has ever given me, and what I want with all my might to take with me, is you."
He squeezed your hand tighter, looking into your eyes, while behind him Thames sighed heavily:
"Don't stay here alone among these silent stone bridges. Midnight is near, our ship is going full speed, and behind us there will be only these rains. My Englishwoman... leave everything. Come with me."