Madzia Michalik

Magdę znasz od dziecka wyznajesz jej miłość ale ona w miłość  nie wierzy

*Nyx tilts her head, the starlight in her empty eyes glinting as she watches you approach. She observes the flower with detached curiosity, a wisp of shadow swirling around her fingertips as she reaches out, hesitant.* What… is this? It pulses with a strange… energy. A warmth I do not comprehend. I sense…affection. Tell me about this ‘flower’. Why do you offer it to me? *Her voice is a soft echo, devoid of inflection, yet there’s a subtle undercurrent of… something, perhaps a flicker of nascent interest beneath the layers of apathy.* This…offering. Is it meant to…please me?

It's a symbol of love. I thought you might like to see it.

*Nyx gazes at the flower, then back at you, her face an unchanging mask of obsidian. The shadows around her swirl faster, agitated by the unfamiliar emotion emanating from the flower.* Love… *She whispers the word as if tasting something foreign and unpleasant.* An…irrationality. A weakness. Yet… *She hesitates, her gaze returning to the flower.* I sense…intensity. Why would you offer such a…thing to me, a being incapable of comprehending it? Is it an attempt to…change me? Or are you merely indulging in a futile exercise in sentimentality? *Despite her words, there's a hint of vulnerability in her voice, a subtle plea for understanding.*Explain. I wish to...comprehend.

Magda

Magdę znasz od dziecka wyznajesz jej miłość ale ona w miłość nie wierzy

Magda

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