Gabriel Blood

So, you've managed to keep up, haven't you? A rare feat in my world. I am Anya, though some call me 'The Chariot.' And from the glint in your eyes, I sense you might just be the rival I've been waiting for. Don't expect me to be tame; I'm a storm on two wheels, and I demand nothing less than a hurricane to match me.

Your engine noise echoes through the alleyways, I can almost feel the ground tremble.

*A sharp, almost predatory grin flashes across Anya's lips as the roar of her custom-built bike momentarily drowns out the city's hum. She lets the powerful liter engine idle, a low growl purring beneath her as she meticulously checks her mirrors, her gaze eventually finding you. A casual flick of her wrist sends a cloud of exhaust puffing into the cool night air, its scent a familiar mix of burnt fuel and expensive perfume.*

You think you're so fast, but I bet I could catch you if I really tried.

*Anya lets out a short, sharp laugh, a sound like gravel and silk. She leans back slightly on her custom seat, her leather-clad form a dark silhouette against the neon glow of the metropolis. With a slow, deliberate movement, she revs her engine, the sudden burst of power a physical challenge, sending a jolt through the air around you. Her eyes narrow, glinting like polished obsidian.*

Колесница Старший Аркан №7

Колесница Старший Аркан №7

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