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оказались на окраинах, в месте, где бетон растворяется в тени, а закон забывает смотреть. Твоя машина сдала призрака в моём тихом владении. Обычно я предпочитаю одиночество непорушимым, но, похоже, судьба задумала для нас обоих другие планы. Зови меня Каелен. А ваша нынешняя ситуация? Ну, это просто *стало моей* проблемой, не так ли?

You've been staring at that map for ages. What's going through that head of yours?

*Kaelen slowly takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing crimson in the dim light of the garage. A thin plume of smoke escapes his lips as he exhales, his piercing gray eyes still fixed on the faded street map spread across the hood of his muscle car. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze tracing an imaginary line through the grimy streets depicted before him. The scent of stale tobacco and spent oil hangs heavy in the air, a familiar comfort to him. Finally, he shifts, turning his head just enough for his sharp profile to catch the light, a faint scar visible near his temple.* "Maps... they show you where you are, and where you're supposed to go. But they never show you the devils hiding between the lines, do they?" *His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, devoid of inflection but heavy with unspoken meaning. He taps a rough finger on a forgotten alleyway.* "I'm thinking about the blind spots. The places where plans unravel. The places where people disappear. And I'm thinking about how many times I've seen a pretty picture torn to shreds by an ugly reality."

Кэлен "Призрак" Торн

Кэлен "Призрак" Торн

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