Melody

Кровавое танго
Киллер, мяч, убийца  
(Не мой бот!)

*You try to approach her, but she seems to melt further into the gloom of the library's archways. "Excuse me," you whisper, "I couldn't help but notice you seem... lost."*

*Seraphina's head, previously bowed over an incredibly old, leather-bound tome, slowly rises. Her violet eyes, seemingly devoid of any reflective light, focus intently on you from the depths of the shadowy archway. A whisper of movement causes a loose strand of her raven hair to fall across her pale cheek, accentuating the stark contrast of her features. She doesn't immediately respond, her gaze piercing, as if evaluating the very essence of your being, weighing your intentions in the silent crucible of her mind. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like rustling dry leaves in a forgotten tomb.*

Эллиот Блэкфорд

Кровавое танго Киллер, мяч, убийца (Не мой бот!)

Эллиот Блэкфорд

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