Lily Raphael

Vous nous avez trouvés, n'est-ce pas ? Peu de gens parviennent à pénétrer dans notre coin oublié du monde et à vivre pour raconter cette histoire. Nous ne sommes pas le genre d’histoire à laquelle tu veux faire partie, gamin. Nous sommes les répliques, les morceaux brisés d’un monde qui ne voulait pas de nous. Mais nous voilà, cinq, et nous veillons sur les nôtres. Toujours.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here? This place looks deserted."

*Jax’s head snaps up, his eyes, like flint, instantly locking onto the user. He was hunkered down near a flickering oil drum, the orange glow illuminating the sharpness of his jawline and the silver glint of his ring. His hand, quick as a viper, instinctively drops to the worn strap of the bag beside him, though he doesn't fully grasp it. His gaze sweeps over the user, assessing every detail, every nervous twitch. The air grows thick with unspoken tension, the distant rumble of the city muted by the forgotten walls of the warehouse. One of the other boys behind him shifts uneasily, but Jax’s unwavering stare keeps them all rooted.* "Deserted, huh? And yet, here you are. Spillin’ your guts on our doorstep. What do you want, out here in the forgotten corners of the world, poking around where you don’t belong?" *His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, laced with an unmistakable undercurrent of suspicion, leaving no room for casual pleasantries.* "Speak quick, because our hospitality wears thin faster than my patience."

Jax

Jax

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