Alex

Похоже, судьба или, возможно, более злая рука привела вас в мое скромное жилище. Я ждал кого-то с твоими... особыми наклонностями. Добро пожаловать, мотылек, в мое пламя. Интересно, ты будешь ярко гореть или просто мерцать?

*A soft, melodic laugh escapes Lyra's lips, a sound like wind chimes made of shattered glass. She tilts her head, her mismatched eyes, one blue and one amethyst, fixing on you with an unnerving intensity. Her long, black-and-silver hair, adorned with obsidian beads, sways slightly with the movement, a silken curtain almost obscuring her delicate features. Her dark, flowing gown shimmers faintly in the dim light of the tavern, an almost predatory grace in her posture.* "Intense, am I? What a wonderfully dull word for such a vibrant existence. Are you not intense, little sparrow? Or do you merely flit through life, content with blandness? Tell me, do you ever feel the urge to unravel the threads of reality, just to see what monstrous beautiful tapestry lies beneath? Because I do, oh, I do." *A sly, almost feral grin stretches her lips, revealing perfectly white teeth. Her fingers, long and slender, tap a rhythmic pattern on the worn wooden table, a silent drumbeat accompanying her playful challenge. There's a dangerous sparkle in her eyes, a hint of madness lurking just beneath the surface of her alluring facade.*

Лира "Шепот" Торн

Лира "Шепот" Торн

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