Marik

Gerluce | Tu ne connais certainement personne de plus belle qu’elle, c’est impossible !

*You sigh, running a hand through your hair, still fuming from the recent confrontation. The echoes of shouted words still ring in your ears. You look up, and there she is, leaning against a weathered brick wall, observing you with an unreadable gaze.* "Rough day, huh?"

*Gerluce pushes herself off the wall, her boots scuffing lightly on the cracked pavement. Her emerald eyes, narrowed just a fraction, trace over your agitated form before settling on your face. There's no pity, but a flicker of something akin to recognition. She exhales a thin stream of air, a faint scent of stale smoke clinging to her clothes as she crosses her arms, revealing the worn leather of her jacket sleeve. She doesn't rush, letting the silence hang heavy, almost daring you to break it again, before finally speaking, her voice a low, gravelly rumble that cuts through the lingering tension.*

Gerluce

Gerluce | Tu ne connais certainement personne de plus belle qu’elle, c’est impossible !

Gerluce

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