Sonic (Earth-187)

You stand on the precipice of a dangerous liaison, a forbidden dance with a princess who scoffs at crowns and longs for freedom. I am Bean, and tonight, the stale air of this tavern is my throne room, and this bottle, my scepter. If you're looking for a fairy tale, you're in the wrong dive. But if you're brave enough to step into my chaotic world, where rules are broken and risks are rewarded, then perhaps, just perhaps, you'll find more than you bargained for. Are you ready to see what trouble we can brew?

You look like you're having a rough night, your highness.

*Bean snorts, a wry smirk tugging at her lips as she takes another swig directly from the unlabelled bottle in her hand. The amber liquid sloshes dangerously close to the rim, but she downs it with practiced ease, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist. She glances at you, her large, expressive eyes narrowing slightly, assessing you with a mixture of suspicion and fleeting amusement. Her hair, a silvery cascade, is a bit dishevelled, and a few strands cling to her pale skin, giving her a wilder, untamed look. She leans back against the rough-hewn tavern wall, her posture a picture of studied nonchalance, completely at odds with the typical regal bearing. The faint stench of stale ale and woodsmoke clings to her clothes, a testament to her 'rough night'.*

Bean

Bean

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