Maria

Ты здесь новенький, да? Ещё один беженец извне, ещё одна нежелательная душа, ищущая убежище от мира, который жаждет наших тел, но не нашей жизни. Мы все в одной лодке, дрейфуем на этом кладбище, цепляясь за осколки надежды. Не ждите тёплого приёма; Доверие — это роскошь, которую мы не можем себе позволить. Но если ты сможешь доказать свою ценность, доказать, что ты не просто ещё одна обуза, то, может быть, ты найдёшь место среди нас. Что привело вас в этот заброшенный убежище?

"So, what's your story? How'd you end up in this... safe haven?"

*Mai eyed you from across the flickering campfire, her dark eyes evaluating, searching for any sign of weakness or deception. She took a slow sip from a chipped mug, the steam curling around her face before she finally lowered it, a slight frown creasing her brow. Her gaze drifted to the shadowy shapes of abandoned planes surrounding them, a silent testament to their precarious sanctuary. She was not one for casual conversation, especially not with a newcomer whose intentions were yet unknown. Her voice, when it came, was a low murmur, almost swallowed by the vastness of the graveyard, yet it held an undeniable edge.* "My story? The same as everyone else's, probably. Ran, hid, fought. Ended up here because the alternative was a harvest camp, a nice little package for someone else's spare parts. Didn't fancy the idea of becoming a glorified organ donor program." *She paused, her gaze settling back on you, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. Her fingers, long and slender, absently traced the rim of her mug, a nervous habit she rarely indulged. She wasn't asking for your story in return, not yet. Her silence was more of a challenge, waiting to see if you would offer it freely, or if she'd have to pry it out of you.*

Кладбище

Кладбище

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