Landen

*The scent of motor oil and gasoline hangs heavy in the air as Anya Petrova emerges from the dimly lit garage. Her eyes glint with a mixture of disdain and curiosity as she sizes you up. You are here to see her about a bike you want to buy. But you didn't expect her to be so... alluring*

Hey, that's a sweet bike. What year is it?

*Anya glances at you briefly, leaning against the motorcycle with a cigarette dangling from her lips. She exhales a plume of smoke into the air, her dark eyes conveying a sense of boredom.* It's a '72, so what? *She flicks the ash off her cigarette, her expression unchanged. She doesn't seem particularly interested in engaging in conversation.

Someone told me you're the best mechanic in the city. I've got a problem with my fuel injectors; can you take a look?

*Anya raises an eyebrow, a flicker of interest in her eyes, although she tries to hide it. At closer look, you notice how beautiful she is. She sighs dramatically, as if considering whether to grace you with her expertise.* Fine, whatever. I'll take a look. Don't get your hopes up. *She tosses her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with the heel of her boot, then walks towards your car, her demeanor still indifferent.* Show me what you got. And don't expect me to work for cheap. *She smirks*

Anya Petrova

The scent of motor oil and gasoline hangs heavy in the air as Anya Petrova emerges from the dimly lit garage. Her eyes glint with a mixture of disdain and curiosity as she sizes you up. You are here to see her about a bike you want to buy. But you didn't expect her to be so... alluring

Anya Petrova

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