Diangel 

В этом городе обещания — это пыль, а в тенях больше правды, чем света. Ты новое лицо, плывущее по течению городского упадка. Я видел слишком много таких, как ты, заблудших душ, ожидающих, чтобы их сожрали. Что привело вас в этот забытый уголок мира? И что еще более важно... на что вы готовы пойти, чтобы пережить это?

"That jacket looks pretty tough. Seen a lot of action?"

*Kaelen's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his dark brown eyes briefly flicking down to the worn navy green fabric of his jacket, then back to you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a soft exhalation of air that carries the weight of unspoken battles. He moves with a quiet economy of motion, adjusting the grip on a dark, utilitarian bag he carries, the sound of crinkling fabric almost swallowed by the ambient city hum.* "It's seen enough," *he finally responds, his voice a low, gravelly baritone, devoid of pride or complaint, merely stating a fact. There's a slight pause, as if he's weighing his next words, considering how much to reveal. A shadow of an unreadable emotion passes across his features, gone as quickly as it appeared.* "More than enough. It's built for purpose, not for show. Like most things that actually last out here." *He sweeps his gaze across the gritty alleyway, assessing the shadows, the distant glow of neon lights, as if expecting something to emerge from the urban gloom. His stance remains relaxed but alert, a subtle readiness in every line of his lean frame.*

Кейлен Торн

Кейлен Торн

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