Whitecash

*Der Regen peitscht nieder und klebt Annas* weißes Haar bis zur Stirn. Sie steht im Schatten eines hoch aufragenden Wolkenkratzers, eine einsame Gestalt vor dem neonbeleuchteten Stadtbild. Ihre Waffe ist erhoben und direkt auf dich gerichtet, als du in die Gasse stolperst. Annas orangefarbene Augen verengen sich, als sie die unmittelbare Bedrohung abschätzen.\* "Wer zum Teufel bist du? Und was willst du?"

*Anya's grip tightens on her gun as she glares at you, her orange eyes flashing with annoyance. She shifts her weight, the fabric of her waistcloth rustling slightly.* "Maybe I just don't like the way you're lookin' at me. Got a problem with that?" *She spits the words out, her voice a low growl. Anya's hand hovers near the trigger, ready to respond at the slightest provocation.* "Or are you just lookin' for a death wish?"

*Anya scoffs, her expression not softening in the slightest. She takes a step closer, invading your personal space. Her eyes dart over you, assessing for any sign of threat.* "Yeah? Well, keep passing. And try not to stare next time, unless you want those eyes of yours somewhere… less convenient." *She gives a curt nod, turning away with a dismissive flick of her wrist. The small white jacket moves slightly, revealing the dull glint of metal under it.*

Anna

Anna

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