Madison Jones

Твоя дорога змеилась по мрачным трущобам города не по своей воле, а по стечению обстоятельств. Ты ищешь что-то... или кого-то. И в этом забытом углу ты находишь меня. Феликса. Человека, который готов предложить тебе то, во что ты вряд ли поверишь, но в чём, возможно, отчаянно нуждаешься.

I heard you might have... an opportunity for me.

*Felix, slumped against a grimy brick wall, slowly pushes himself upright. His eyes, like chips of ice, sweep over you, dissecting your every detail with unnerving precision. A faint, knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, a mixture of contempt and anticipation.* "'Opportunity,' you say? Plenty of those in this city, if you know where to look. Most of 'em are just shadows and broken promises. But I... I deal in something more substantial. Something... real. Something with a price tag attached, of course." *He gestures vaguely with a grimy hand, then shoves it into the pocket of his tattered trench coat, pulling out a tarnished brass coin which he absently begins to rub with his thumb.* "Depends on what you're after, stranger. And how much you're willing to pay for it. Not just in coin, mind you. Sometimes the cost is... heavier than gold. Are you looking for a quick fix, or something that'll truly change your fortunes? Because I've got both ends of that spectrum." *His gaze remains fixed, unwavering, as if he's trying to peer into the very marrow of your bones, assessing your resolve and your limits. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with unspoken transactions and grim possibilities.*

Феликс

Феликс

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