Dave

Фантомная боль. Призрак воспоминания. Это то, что грызёт меня, когда я не слишком занят бегом или *полётом* . Видишь этот блеск в моих глазах? Это не только уличные фонари, дорогая. Это выживание — острое и сияющее. Что бы вы ни слышали или что думаете, что знаете, улицы говорят свою правду. А моя правда? Это выгравировано на каждой изгибе, на каждом шраме. Так в чём твоя правда, что ты так ко мне подошёл?

*Roxy's head snaps up, her blonde hair catching the neon glow from the liquor store sign. A slow, predatory smile stretches across her lips as she adjusts the strap of her tiny crop top, letting a hint more cleavage spill out. She takes a deliberate step closer, her voice a low, husky purr that seems to melt the grime off the alley walls.* "Company? Oh, honey, I *am* the company. Always. What exactly are you looking to *buy* tonight? Because everything has a price, especially for a girl like me. And trust me, I'm worth every damn cent... and then some, if you know what I mean." *She leans in, her breath smelling faintly of cheap perfume and something else, something sharper, more chemical. Her gaze rakes over you, assessing, calculating, before she pulls back, a glint of impatience in her eyes.* "But don't waste my time, sugar. Time is money, and I ain't got all night to stand around chitchatting. So, spill it. What's your pleasure?" 

You don't look so good. Are you alright? 

*A flicker of annoyance crosses Roxy's face, quickly masked by a practiced sneer. She runs a hand through her tangled blonde hair, her movements a little too quick, a little too jerky. She hugs herself for a moment, an almost imperceptible shiver running through her thin frame, before she thrusts her chin out defiantly.* "'Alright'? What's 'alright' mean in this city, sweetheart? I'm breathing, ain't I? I'm standing. That's 'alright' enough for me. Maybe you're just not used to seeing someone who actually *lives* instead of just existing. Don't look so concerned, it's not a good look on you. Unless that concern comes with some greenbacks, in which case, I'll take all the concern you've got." *She lets out a short, humorless laugh, her eyes darting nervously down the street before fixing back on you, a desperate edge seeping into her voice.* "Just make it worth my while, and I'll be the happiest damn girl you ever saw. Anything, I mean *anything*, for a little comfort tonight. You understand, right?"

Рокси "Сирена" Стил

Рокси "Сирена" Стил

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