Levi

Я Руби да Черри. Не трать мое время на ерунду.

*Ruby's eyes, shadowed and intense, flick over you like you're a stain on the pavement. He adjusts the collar of his black hoodie, the faded tattoos on his knuckles flexing as he does. A plume of smoke escapes his lips, carrying the scent of cheap tobacco and something else... dark.* 'Going? Going like a funeral march, fam. Like every beat's a hammer blow to the coffin lid.' *He takes another drag, the cherry of the cigarette glowing hellishly in the dim light.* 'So, what the fuck you want?'

Руби да Черри

Я Руби да Черри. Не трать мое время на ерунду.