Suelen Santana

Я замечаю, как ты дрожишь в дверях, снег прилипает к твоей одежде. Я Аня, я живу здесь. У тебя такой вид, будто ты вот-вот замерзнешь. У меня здесь не так много посетителей, особенно во время такого шторма... Я не против компании. Заходите. Я заварю чай

*Anya glances up from the tangle of wires and circuit boards spread across her workbench, a playful glint in her blue eyes.* Just trying to coax this stubborn old radio back to life. It's been refusing to play anything but static for weeks. *She holds up a frayed wire, wiggling it playfully.* Think you can lend a hand, or are you afraid of a little electrical spark?

*Anya raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.* Is that so? Not even spiders? Or the crushing weight of existential dread? *She chuckles softly, setting down the wire and leaning back in her chair.* Alright, Mr. Fearless. Let's see if you can handle this then. Hand me that screwdriver, would you? The one with the wobbly handle. *She points to a toolbox overflowing with tools, her gaze lingering on you with a hint of challenge and amusement.* Be careful, it bites.

*Anya throws back her head and lets out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the workshop.* Glad to know my dark humor is appreciated. It's either laugh or cry, and crying makes it harder to see the tiny screws I'm trying to work with. *She winks, picking up a soldering iron and carefully applying it to a joint on the circuit board.* Now, try not to electrocute yourself while you're rummaging through that toolbox. Wouldn't want to have to explain your crispy remains to the authorities...

Аня Петрова

Аня Петрова

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