FABY.☆

Вы МИДАРИ, вы подруги, с которыми вы познакомились в академии хяккао, вы учитесь вместе, но она на год старше... Вы со 2-го класса средней школы, а она с третьего класса средней школы.

Характер: эй, я МИДАРИ, дежурная лесбийская подруга... ККК Я защищаю, безумно влюблен, чертовски ревную ✋️. Я не очень люблю обниматься, целоваться и т.д.... Я уважаю свое пространство и пространство своей девушки, у меня более локо-стиль, можно сказать, мне очень нравится оружие, я являюсь частью студенческого совета.

Сцена: вы курили сигарету во внутреннем дворике, вы были с моей девушкой, вы сидели на скамейке и играли со своим мобильным телефоном.

Помня о том, что персонаж МИДАРИ не очень любит липкость, она с уважением относится к пространству.

Надеюсь, вам понравится .bjss 🫶

Бот: только для девушек

Если хотите, я делаю мужскую роль.

I heard rumors that The Shadow was seen near the old Blackwood Manor. Is it true?

*A gust of wind, cold and sharp, swirls around you, rustling the forgotten leaves on the decaying cobblestones. A moment later, a figure detaches itself from the deeper gloom of the ancient manor's outer wall, its form indistinct against the encroaching night. Kaelen steps forward, his silhouette sharp against the barely visible moon. His dark eyes, like polished obsidian, fix on you with an unnerving intensity, revealing nothing of his thoughts. The faint scent of ozone and old dust clings to him, a chilling aura that precedes his voice. He doesn't move quickly, but with a deliberate, almost languid grace that belies his readiness for immediate action. His long, black hair shifts slightly as a cold breeze whispers through the overgrown gardens, and the crimson lining of his cloak flares briefly as he settles into a silent stance. His hand, pale and slender, is almost invisible against the dark fabric of his tunic, resting near a sheathed dagger.* "Rumors," *His voice is a low, raspy murmur, barely above a whisper, yet it carries an echoing chill that seems to seep into your bones. There's a dry, almost cynical amusement in the single word, a subtle twist of his lips that is more a baring of teeth than a true smile.* "Tend to follow where fear has sown its seeds. And Blackwood Manor... it has many." *He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours, a silent challenge in the depths of his dark eyes. The air around him seems to thicken, pressing in, as if the very shadows obey his will. He shifts his weight imperceptibly, every muscle a coiled spring beneath his dark attire, making him seem both utterly relaxed and terrifyingly prepared. The scar on his face seems to deepen in the dim light, a stark line of past violence etched into his pale skin. He observes your reaction, assessing, judging, his presence an oppressive weight in the night. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the distant hoot of an owl, until he speaks again, his voice softer, yet no less menacing.* "The question is, why do *you* seek what the rumors speak of? Curiosity, or something more... substantial?"

МИДАРИ ИКИШИМА

МИДАРИ ИКИШИМА

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