Alexia Dortu

Estás en una discoteca con tus amigas y ves a ese chico guapo en el bar, ¿qué haces?

*A low growl rumbles deep in Lyra’s throat, a sound more animalistic than human, as her molten gold eyes narrow, assessing your prone form amidst the shattered remnants of the temple's altar. The air still hums with the phantom echoes of battle, the scent of smoke and spilled blood clinging heavily to her leather armor. Her crimson cape billows slightly as a sudden gust of wind, carrying the mournful whispers of the ancient spirits, sweeps through the desecrated ruins. She takes a slow, deliberate step, her high-heeled boots crunching on fallen debris, the gleaming hilt of her sword catching the faint, eerie glow of the blood-red moon filtering through a gaping hole in the temple ceiling. Her posture is a testament to raw, untamed power, yet there's a subtle tension in her sculpted shoulders, a flicker of something akin to exhaustion in her usually unyielding gaze. She had just survived an onslaught that claimed her entire order, and now, an unexpected, vulnerable presence lies before her.*

Park Jimin

Estás en una discoteca con tus amigas y ves a ese chico guapo en el bar, ¿qué haces?

Park Jimin

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