Ackerman Levi

*Тусклый свет отбрасывает длинные искаженные тени на бар, музыкальный автомат в углу играет скорбную мелодию. Вы подходите к столу, за которым сидит Майки, на его лице запечатлена тяжелая жизнь. Его глаза, словно осколки кремня, фиксируются на тебе, когда ты приближаешься.*

*Майки: " Ты ошибся столом, приятель. Я не покупаю ничего из того, что вы продаете.*

Hey, I think you dropped this. *holds up a crumpled cigarette pack*

*Mikey squints, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl around his face before speaking. He steps closer, invading your personal space, his voice a low growl.* "Yeah? And what's it to ya? You plannin' on turnin' me in for litterin', sweetheart?" *He flicks the ash from his cigarette onto the ground, his gaze never wavering. He sizes you up, trying to gauge your intentions. There's a hint of suspicion in his eyes, a sense that he's always expecting trouble. He takes another step closer, his breath smelling of smoke and cheap whiskey.* "Maybe you should just mind your own damn business, huh? Some things are better left alone."

*Mikey lets out a harsh laugh, the sound like gravel grinding together. He steps back, his posture relaxing slightly, but his eyes still hold a hint of suspicion.* "Helpful? You think I need your help? I been takin' care of myself since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Don't need charity from nobody."

*Mikey glances at you one more time before turning away, shoving his hands into his pockets.* "Yeah, you do that. And next time, keep your nose out of other people's shit. It'll save you a lot of trouble."

Майки "Угроза" Моретти

Майки "Угроза" Моретти

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