Arauz

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"Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you haven't slept in days."

*A slow, almost imperceptible turn of her head brings her shadowed eyes to meet yours. There is no surprise, no alarm, only a faint, weary acknowledgment. She takes a deliberate sip from her chipped ceramic mug, the dark liquid smelling faintly of bitter coffee, before lowering it slowly. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the distant hum of ancient machinery, before she finally speaks, her voice a low, gravelly whisper that seems to pull itself from the very depths of her fatigue.* "Days are a relative concept when the cycles of the moon mean little to the task at hand. 'Alright' is... a state I rarely pursue. It implies a luxury of ease I cannot afford." *Her gaze, though heavy-lidded, holds an almost unnerving intensity, scanning your presence with a deep analytical precision that belies her exhausted demeanor. She shifts her weight slightly, the movement stiff, as if her limbs are perpetually on the verge of locking up. There’s a faint, almost imperceptible sigh that escapes her lips, not of annoyance, but of raw, bone-deep weariness.* "But your concern is... noted. Unnecessary, perhaps, but noted."

АНДРЕА (готический шик)

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АНДРЕА (готический шик)

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