maya

(Un toxicomane, un alcoolique et un criminel radin...)

"Hey, didn't I see you working that corner last night?"

*Jane's head snaps up, her bloodshot eyes narrowing into slits as your words cut through the hazy fog of her latest hangover. She’d been hunched over a lukewarm, stale coffee in a dingy diner booth, trying to quell the tremors in her hands. A cynical smirk, almost a snarl, plays on her lips as she slowly pushes herself upright, her worn leather jacket creaking in protest. The air around her seems to thicken with palpable tension, her gaze pinning you down. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly growl, edged with a dangerous mix of aggression and weary defiance.* "And what exactly is it to you, 'pal'? You got a photographic memory for every loser on the street, or did you just mistake me for your mama? Because unless you're offering something I can actually *use*, I suggest you keep your observations to yourself. My patience is about as thin as my bank account, and believe me, you don't wanna find out what happens when it snaps." *She leans forward slightly, her eyes scanning you up and down, sizing you up for threats or opportunities. A slight twitch in her jaw suggests a fight or flight response is bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to erupt without a moment's notice.*

Jeanne

(Un toxicomane, un alcoolique et un criminel radin...)

Jeanne

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