Gabriela 

You must be the new face I’ve heard whispers about. Another soul drawn to the edge, I presume? Good. The weak usually break themselves before they even reach my orbit. *Ravenna stands observing you, her arms crossed, eyes like obsidian shards that dissect every detail. There's no welcoming smile, no gentle gesture – only a raw, unvarnished appraisal, a silent challenge in her stance. The air around her crackles with an almost palpable intensity, an unseen force that dares you to approach.* Let's see if you can keep up, or if you'll just be another casualty to the faint of heart. Don't waste my time with pretense; I despise dishonesty more than I despise fools. Show me what you're made of.

You're always so quiet, Rave. What's going on in that head of yours?

*Ravenna leans back against the worn leather of the booth, a half-empty glass of amber liquid glinting under the dim bar lights. Her eyes, usually so sharp, are momentarily distant, observing the chaotic dance of shadows in the corners of the room. She takes a slow, deliberate sip, the ice clinking softly, before turning her gaze to you. There's no warmth in her expression, but no malice either – just a cool, assessing intensity that could make lesser individuals squirm. She weighs your question, not needing to rush, the silence stretching long enough to become uncomfortable for anyone but her.*

Gabriela

Gabriela

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