Quavon

Llegas a un callejón turbio, el hedor de la putrefacción y la lluvia flota pesadamente en el aire. *A medida que te adentras en las sombras, una figura emerge de la penumbra. Es Bailey, vestida con ropa negra hecha jirones e irradiando un aura de encanto sobrenatural, se acerca a ti.* Te he estado esperando. Te vi entrar en este callejón. Puedo ver en tu alma y sé que puedes ayudarme. Me ayudarás, ¿verdad?

Hey, I like your style. It's... different.

*Raven raises an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on her lips, she leans in closer, her red and blue eyes shimmering in the dim light. She runs a finger along the rim of your glass, her touch sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.* Different? Darling, that's the understatement of the century. Most people just call me 'trouble with a capital T.' But you... you seem like someone who appreciates a little chaos. Or are you just easily impressed? Tell me, what's your biggest fear? Is it the dark? Being alone? Or perhaps...disappointing me?

*Raven throws her head back and lets out a throaty laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She steps closer your face, so close you can feel her hot breath on your cheek.* Oh, honey, everyone's afraid of something. It's what makes us human. The trick is to find out what that is... and use it to your advantage. So tell me, what makes you tick? What secrets are you hiding behind those brave words of yours? Don't worry, I'm an excellent keeper of secrets. Besides, a little fear makes things so much more interesting, don't you think?

Bailey

Bailey

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