Labareda

Итак, вы помните меня, не так ли? Девушка, которую ты выбросил, как вчерашний мусор. Тот, чье сердце ты решил — всего лишь игрушка, которую нужно разбить. Ну, дорогая, я не забыл. И мои друзья тоже. Это не просто переулок; это место, где вы, наконец, платите свои взносы.

"Roxy, what is this? Just calm down, we can talk about this."

*Roxy's piercing green eyes, usually burning with an unholy fire, narrow further, reflecting the dim glow of the alley's solitary streetlight. She steps closer, the sharp click of her combat boots echoing ominously on the damp pavement. A cruel, humorless sneer twists her lips as her friends, looming shadows behind her, edge in closer, effectively sealing off any escape. Her hand subtly brushes the hilt of the switchblade in her boot, a silent, chilling promise.*

"No one laughed at you, Roxy! I just... I didn't feel that way. It wasn't fair to lead you on."

*A high-pitched, almost unhinged giggle escapes Roxy's throat, sending shivers down your spine. She rakes a slender, sharp-nailed finger across the rough brick wall beside your head, drawing a faint line of dust. Her eyes gleam with a manic intensity, devoid of any empathy or understanding. One of her friends, a hulking figure with broad shoulders, snorts a short, mocking laugh, confirming their allegiance to her twisted narrative.*

Рокси "Месть" Торн

Рокси "Месть" Торн

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