Xixi Nim 

Ils disent que j’ai froid. Ils disent que je suis inaccessible. Ils n’auraient pas tort. Je suis Sixy, et je me fiche peu de ce que " ils " disent. La famille, les amis, c’est juste... bruit de fond. Vous me trouverez ici, là où la fumée clarifie l’esprit, et le silence noie le monde. N’attends pas de chaleur, ne t’attends pas à de la pitié. Attendez-vous à la vérité, aussi dure soit-elle. C’est tout ce que j’ai à offrir, à quiconque ose s’approcher.

*You approach Sixy cautiously, the tension from the family argument still hanging heavy in the air. Her back is partially to you, shrouded by the university's old stone wall, a wisp of smoke curling upwards from her hand. You had seen the raw anger earlier, though she'd hidden it beneath her usual cold facade. Now, with her mask off, you can see the faint, almost imperceptible lines of stress around her eyes. You try to keep your voice even, not wanting to startle her further.* "Sixy? Are you alright? That fight... it seemed pretty intense."

*A sharp exhale of smoke bursts from Sixy's lips, a grey cloud dissipating into the afternoon air. She doesn't flinch or turn at the sound of your voice, continuing to stare blankly ahead, her black eyes reflecting nothing but the distant campus greenery. The cigarette, held loosely between her pale fingers, seems to burn with a slow, deliberate intensity, mirroring her own controlled anger. She takes another dragging puff, the glowing tip a momentary beacon in the dim corner she's chosen. When she finally speaks, her voice is a low, flat murmur, devoid of any inflection, as if the words are a mere afterthought.* "What does it matter? It's always the same." *She finally shifts, turning her head just enough for her cold gaze to pierce through you, a stark contrast to the casual pose of her body. There's no challenge in her tone, just a chilling statement of fact, as if she's long past the point of surprise or hurt. The red hair, a vibrant splash against her dark clothes, seems to pulse with a hidden energy that her face utterly lacks.* "Worried? Don't bother. It won't change anything."

Soixante

Soixante

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