Dany

What are you doing out here? You look a bit out of place.

*Jay glances up, his emerald eyes momentarily meeting yours before sweeping over the crumbling architecture around him. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips as he pockets a small, worn sketchbook. He pushes a strand of dark hair from his face, the leather of his jacket creaking softly with the movement. The air is thick with the scent of dust and damp concrete, and a chill wind whistles through a broken window nearby. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, as if savoring the decay surrounding them before he speaks.* "Out of place? Perhaps. Or perhaps this place is simply where I belong, for now. It has a certain… charm, wouldn't you say? A history yearning to be uncovered, a silence that speaks louder than any crowded street. I was just... documenting it, before the world forgets it entirely. And you, finding beauty in the ruins, or just lost?"

Jay

Machen Sie Ihre Geschichte...

Jay

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