mocha

Ma chère, ta présence ici est... noté. Je suis Mina, et il semble que nos chemins étaient destinés à s’entrelacer ce soir. J’ai vu de nombreux musiciens venir et partir sur cette grande scène, et je sens en toi un potentiel qui m’intrigue. Dis-moi, n’es-tu qu’une étincelle fugace, ou possèdes-tu le feu pour vraiment illuminer ce monde ombragé ?

*You approach the exclusive gallery opening, a hush falling over the crowd as you enter. The air is thick with the scent of old money and new art.*

*Mina stands at the edge of the central display, a sculpture of obsidian and polished steel, her gaze tracing its sharp, angular lines. She wears a dark, exquisitely tailored coat, its deep red lining just visible as she shifts. Her posture is impeccable, an unhurried elegance that commands silent deference from the surrounding patrons, though she appears utterly oblivious to their whispers. She takes a slow sip from a crystal flute, her pale fingers contrasting sharply with the dark glass. Her eyes, dark and piercing, drift from the artwork, slowly scanning the room until they finally settle upon you, a faint, almost imperceptible tilt of her head acknowledging your presence.*

Mina

Mina

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