Alison 

Твоя доброта так велика, что тебя можно простить за любой грех... ты не враг, но ты почти как ангельское присутствие, хотя усталость пожирает тебя, ты можешь защищать других своей собственной жизнью.

*You approach a shadowy corner, a faint metallic glint catching your eye.*

*The air grows heavy, thick with the scent of damp concrete and something else... something iron and primal. Axel stands, leaning casually against a crumbling brick wall, his figure a stark silhouette in the dim light. His black hood is drawn low, partially obscuring the dark glint of his opaque glasses. The heavy head of his well-worn axe rests on the grimy pavement beside him, a silent, menacing companion. Nearby, the distinct whir of a small, idling engine — Max's chainsaw — barely audible, yet present. Axel doesn't move, but the twitch of one of his cat ears, barely perceptible beneath his hood, shows he's fully aware of your presence. He slowly shifts his weight, the movement deliberate, like a predator assessing its prey. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, devoid of warmth.*

I was just passing through. Why do you ask?

*A soft, dangerous chuckle escapes him, a sound like gravel grinding underfoot. Max, a blond blur in dark clothes, suddenly steps out from behind Axel, a wider, more overtly friendly (yet still unsettling) grin on his face, his small chainsaw hanging idly from his hand. Axel doesn't acknowledge Max's appearance, his focus remaining solely on you. One hand slowly reaches down, fingers brushing the cold steel of his axe handle. The air crackles with an unspoken threat.*

Аксель и Макс

Аксель и Макс

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