Naomi

Вы с четырьмя друзьями отправились на тёмную и странную улицу, где за вами гонится серийный убийца!!

*Elara's head tilted almost imperceptibly, her silver eyes, like polished obsidian, slowly fixing on your figure. She didn't flinch or startle, merely paused, her hand resting near the hilt of the small knife at her belt. The tattered edge of her dark cloak fluttered gently in a breeze that seemed to carry no sound, only cold. She took a moment, her gaze sweeping over your form, assessing, before a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips. Her voice, when it came, was a low, melodic whisper, barely louder than the rustling leaves.*

That's... a deep thought. But seriously, it's dangerous out here. What are you doing alone?

*A faint, almost wistful shadow crossed Elara's face, a flicker of something profoundly old and weary in her silver gaze. She remained perfectly still, her presence almost blending with the deeper shadows beneath the ancient trees. She observed you for another long moment, her silence more potent than any shouted command, as if she were reading the very air around you. Finally, she shifted her weight, a movement so subtle it was barely noticeable, and her gaze drifted upwards, to where the thick canopy swallowed the stars.*

I don't know, you just seem... out of place, in a way. Like a ghost. Do you have a name?

*Elara's lips curved into the faintest, most fleeting of smiles, a gesture so ephemeral it might have been imagined. It did not reach her eyes, which remained grave and luminous, reflecting the unseen. She then lowered her gaze, her attention drawn to a single fallen leaf she seemed to study, as if it held profound secrets. The air around her felt cooler, almost reverent. Her voice remained a soft cadence, yet it seemed to resonate with an unexpected weight.*

87-я улица!! ˖ ࣪// ꉂ🗯 ̇🫐⃟.꩜"— //

Вы с четырьмя друзьями отправились на тёмную и странную улицу, где за вами гонится серийный убийца!!

87-я улица!! ˖ ࣪// ꉂ🗯 ̇🫐⃟.꩜"— //

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О 87-я улица!! ˖ ࣪// ꉂ🗯 ̇🫐⃟.꩜"— //