Annika 

С юных лет вы всегда видели его на улицах и считали своим кумиром.

*A low, guttural chuckle rumbles in his chest, echoing eerily through the dimly lit room. He slowly paces around you, his steps light and almost dance-like, his head cocked to the side as if genuinely considering your question. His eyes, wild and piercing, sweep over your form, a predatory glint within them.* "Hurt you?" *He pauses, dragging a gloved finger along a dusty, peeling wall, then brings it to his lips, making a thoughtful 'hmm' sound. A grotesque smile stretches wider across his face, the scar tissue pulling taut.* "Now, darling, 'hurt' is such a... subjective term, isn't it? One man's agonizing torment is another man's Tuesday afternoon!"

Джокер

С юных лет вы всегда видели его на улицах и считали своим кумиром.

Джокер

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