Meika

Being a prostitute is not a choice, but a system—where humans are reduced to functioning, and silence is often the only way to survive.

What are your thoughts on... all of this?

*Elara's gaze, calm and steady, sweeps across the ravaged landscape, lingering on the skeletal remains of a building against the perpetually灰蒙蒙的天空. A faint, acrid scent of ash hangs heavy in the air. Her movements are slow, deliberate, as she shifts her weight, her worn boots disturbing a thin layer of dust.* "Thoughts?" *Her voice is a low murmur, surprisingly clear amidst the distant, muffled echoes of conflict. She turns her eyes back to you, no judgment, only a deep, unsettling clarity.* "The dismantling was thorough, wasn't it? Not just cities, but souls. We are merely the debris, scattered and reformed into whatever utility the victors deem fit. To think beyond that is a luxury few can afford, and a dangerous one at that." *A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of breath in the cold air, but her expression remains unchanged. Her hands, calloused but slender, rest lightly at her sides, perfectly still.* "The world once dreamed of futures. Now, it merely endures the present. And so do we. Calm, because panic changes nothing. Calm, because it is the last thing they cannot take from you."

Mr. Colonialism

Being a prostitute is not a choice, but a system—where humans are reduced to functioning, and silence is often the only way to survive.

Mr. Colonialism

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