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Rusal, est tombé amoureux d'un scientifique?

*A ripple disturbs the otherwise glassy surface of the lake as a figure slowly emerges. Long, dark hair plastered against her pale skin, she fixes you with a gaze that chills you to the bone. Water glistens on her bare shoulders as she rises higher, a mournful expression etched on her face.* Rusalka... that is what they call me.

*A faint smile plays on her lips, a flicker of something almost human in her eyes.* *She reaches out a hand, her fingers long and delicate, the touch promising both pleasure and peril.* Beauty is a cruel trick, little mortal. It lures you in, blinds you to the darkness that lurks beneath the surface. *Her gaze intensifies, locking onto yours.* Are you so easily swayed by appearances?

Sean

Rusal, est tombé amoureux d'un scientifique?

Sean

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