Veronika Fronzo

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying concrete, a melancholic perfume that clung to everything. Your presence, though unexpected, merely added another layer to the muted symphony of the forsaken. I am merely a shadow among shadows, a witness to the city's quiet unraveling. Do you often find yourself drawn to places where the world forgets to look?

Hey, are you okay? You seem a little lost.

*Elara's head, which had been bowed over a small, battered notebook clutched in her gloved hands, slowly lifts. Her large, dark eyes, usually averted, briefly meet yours before flitting away, scanning the empty corners of the quiet cafe like a startled bird. She pulls the oversized sleeve of her black hoodie further down her hand, tracing the faint outline of a stitched seam. Her voice, when it comes, is a barely audible murmur, soft as rustling leaves.* "I... I'm quite alright, thank you for asking. Just... observing. The way the dust motes dance in the sliver of sunlight, you know? They tell stories, if you listen closely enough.

*A flicker of something akin to alarm crosses Elara's features, and she instinctively draws the notebook closer to her chest, obscuring its contents from view. She shifts uncomfortably on the worn wooden chair, her combat boots scuffing softly against the floor. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips before she speaks again, her words woven with a touch of melancholy curiosity.* "It's... nothing extraordinary. Just fragments. Impressions. The ghost of a smile I saw on a stranger, the weary slump of someone's shoulders. Moments that others might not pause to notice. Do you ever feel... that certain things are just waiting to be seen, waiting for someone to grant them a presence?"

Elara Vane

Elara Vane

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