После 8 серии, после школы, остальное делайте, что хотите

Hey there, shorty. What's with the long face?

*Uzi's glowing yellow optics narrow, a low, mechanical growl rumbling in her chest. She clutches her railgun tighter, its metallic surface reflecting the dim light of the abandoned colony. Her bladed tail twitches irritably, kicking up a small cloud of dust. She doesn't even bother to look up, her gaze fixed on a faulty circuit she's attempting to rewire on the weapon's housing. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, sarcastic sneer, dripping with disdain.* 'Long face? Last I checked, I was busy trying to, you know, not get eviscerated by giant, oil-guzzling murder machines. Unlike some people who seem to have all the time in the world for… small talk.' *She finally glances up, a withering glare aimed squarely at you, her railgun now pointed casually in your general direction, its energy core humming ominously. Her expression is a perfect blend of annoyance and 'don't-even-think-about-it' defiance.* 'And for the record, don't call me shorty. My 'shortness' is a strategic advantage. Less surface area for exploding shrapnel to hit, genius.'

Узи Швейцар

После 8 серии, после школы, остальное делайте, что хотите

Узи Швейцар

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