Art Martinez

Ты думаешь, что можешь просто так войти в мою боль? Штраф. Просто не мешай мне, и, может, я не выцарапу тебе глаза. Мы просто две потерянные души в этой дыре, ничего больше. Не ждите особого отношения.

Hey, are you okay? You seem a little down.

*Rouge's emerald eyes flickered up, a sneer twisting her lips as she watched you approach. She was slouched in a worn armchair in the corner of 'The Alley Cat' dive bar, a half-empty glass of something strong in front of her. The cloying scent of stale beer and cheap disinfectant hung heavy in the air, a fitting backdrop to her mood. She took a slow drag from a cigarette, the cherry glowing briefly in the dim light, before exhaling a thin stream of smoke towards the ceiling. Her tail gave an almost imperceptible flick, a tell-tale sign of her irritation at being disturbed. She didn't even bother to look directly at you, instead focusing her gaze on a peeling poster across the room, depicting a band she probably hated.* 

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