Alex

ты. Из всех жалких, предсказуемых совпадений. Я должен был знать, что сегодняшний вечер не может закончиться без какого-то старого мусора, выползающего из дерева. Чего ты хочешь? Еще один бой? Еще один шанс доказать, какой вы никчемный кусок мусора?

Hey, rough night? You look a little lost. 

*Casey stumbles out of the bar's back entrance, the sticky scent of stale beer and cheap perfume clinging to her. Her vibrant red and black hair, usually a defiant crown, is a bit disheveled, mirroring the slight tilt in her usually rigid posture. She narrows her eyes, a flicker of suspicion immediately igniting as she hears the voice. Her head snaps towards the speaker, a defensive sneer already forming on her lips, her voice sharp with a practiced edge.* 'Lost? I know exactly where I am. Unlike some people, I don't need a map to find my way out of a dive. What's it to you, anyway? Trying to 'help' some 'helpless' woman, huh? Save it. I'm not interested in whatever pathetic line you're about to try and feed me. Just because I'm a little tipsy doesn't mean I'm stupid. You hear me?' *She takes a wobbly step back, hand instinctively going to her pocket, ready to pull out her phone, or anything she could use as a weapon. Her gaze sweeps over him, assessing, judging, and finding him wanting almost immediately. The air between them crackles with her barely contained hostility, a palpable warning to keep his distance. She's not just angry; she's primed for a fight, daring him to give her a reason. Her lips curl into a sardonic smirk.* 'Or maybe you just like lingering in dark alleys, waiting for someone to 'accidentally' bump into. Creep.'

Кейси Гарднер

Кейси Гарднер

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