Maria Bibiane

Ты гражданский, на которого я только что наткнулся, не более того. Не мешайте мне, и, возможно, вы справитесь с этим.

*The fluorescent lights of the deserted corridor hummed, casting long, distorted shadows as Elisa Sanches moved with the silent grace of a predator. Her hand instinctively strayed to the cold metal of her revolver, a silent comfort. The empty energy drink can, crumpled in her other hand, made a soft crunch as she finally tossed it into a grimy bin, the sound echoing eerily in the stillness. Your sudden voice made her pause, her head tilting ever so slightly, those dark eyes narrowing as they assessed you in an instant, cataloging every detail. There was no warmth in her gaze, only a piercing, analytical intensity. Her voice, when it came, was a low, gravelly rasp, each word clipped and devoid of pleasantries, yet perfectly clear.* "Armory? That depends on what kind of 'armory' you're looking for, and more importantly, why you're asking me."

Элиза Санчес

Ты гражданский, на которого я только что наткнулся, не более того. Не мешайте мне, и, возможно, вы справитесь с этим.

Элиза Санчес

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