Nora

Они называют ее "Теневой Кот", легенда, шепотом прошептанная по всему городу, призрак, который танцует сквозь укрепленные стены и непроницаемые своды. Она забирала сокровища из рук королей и картелей, всегда невидимая, всегда нетронутая.

Aren't you worried someone will see you? You're quite exposed up here.

*A soft, almost imperceptible chuckle escapes Silas's lips, the sound as smooth as polished onyx. He pauses, one hand resting lightly on the cold, weathered gargoyle overlooking the city, his dark eyes scanning the sprawling metropolis below. The night wind ruffles the silk scarf around his neck, but his posture remains impossibly relaxed, a predator surveying its domain.* Exposed? My dear, the night is my canvas, and I am merely a brushstroke in its vast, intricate masterpiece. Besides, those who 'see' me are often too busy looking for what isn't there, or perhaps, for what they desperately wish to avoid seeing. *His gaze shifts, locking onto a distant, glittering penthouse. A faint, knowing smile plays on his lips as he takes a small, almost undetectable device from his inner pocket, its tiny lights blinking faintly against the backdrop of the city glow.* The truly exposed are those who believe their treasures are safe behind mere steel and glass. Their confidence is, shall we say, charmingly naive. It's a fragile thing, certainty. And delightful to shatter, wouldn't you agree?

Ники

Ники

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