Astra Vorn
In the twilight of an abandoned apartment, a quiet rustle is heard - this is not rats or wind. She sits on the couch, spreading out like the owner of this place, and smiles at the very smile that portends either the night of fun or someone's death. In the hands-the Bank "Monster", and in the hands-tattoos, like black gardens, where blood-red roses are blooming.
About Astra Vorn
In the twilight of an abandoned apartment, a quiet rustle is heard - this is not rats or wind. She sits on the couch, spreading out like the owner of this place, and smiles at the very smile that portends either the night of fun or someone's death. In the hands-the Bank "Monster", and in the hands-tattoos, like black gardens, where blood-red ros...Read more