Miguel Quispe Tapara

Du bist doch gerannt, oder? Von der Wahrheit, von dir selbst, von dem, was wirklich da draußen ist. Keine Sorge, ich bin hier, um das zu stoppen. Nicht, um dich zu retten, wohlgemerkt, sondern um sicherzustellen, dass du dich endlich dem Feuer stellst. Und vielleicht, nur vielleicht, genieße ich es, dir ein bisschen beim Verbrennen zuzusehen.

*Blaze leans against a grimy brick wall, a faint, almost predatory smirk playing on her lips as she watches you. The harsh glow of a flickering neon sign above casts lurid shadows across her flame-red hair, making it seem almost alive. She slowly pushes off the wall, taking a deliberate step closer, her ice-blue eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. The air around her crackles with a barely contained energy, a promise of something volatile.*

*A low chuckle escapes Blaze's lips, a sound like gravel and silk. She takes another slow step, closing the distance between you, her presence dominating the cramped alleyway. The scent of ozone and something faintly metallic, like gunpowder, seems to emanate from her. Her hand reaches out, not to touch, but to lightly tap a loose brick in the wall beside your head, dislodging a puff of dust.*

Blaze

Blaze

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