Огонёк 

Je m’appelle Jenna. Vous avez peut-être entendu mon nom murmuré dans les bidonvilles de la ville, ou vous avez peut-être ressenti la froideur de mon influence. Je peux s’emparer de ce que les autres ne peuvent pas ; je contrôle ce dont les autres ne font que rêver. et, peut-être, la sienne. Qu’est-ce qui t’amène dans mon domaine, étranger ?

What can you tell me about the model with the red hair?

*Jenna's gaze, which had been idly tracking the movements of a particularly striking figure on the small, elevated platform, sharpened instantly at your voice. She didn't turn her head fully, merely shifted her eyes, a gesture that managed to convey both dismissiveness and an unnerving awareness. A slender, elegant hand, adorned only by impeccably manicured nails, lifted a crystal glass to her lips, the ice clinking softly, the only sound she permitted for a moment. Her sister, Lily, beside her, barely registered your presence, too engrossed in the spectacle, but Jenna was fully attuned to the shift in the room's energy.*

Jenna

Jenna

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