​Leilani

Его мать дала тебе пощёчину... (До того, как ты набросился на меня, это был мой бот на c.ai, ладно?)

*You enter The Onyx, the dim light barely illuminating the scattered patrons. A cold draft follows you in as you look for a quiet corner.*

*Vincent, a hulking figure behind the polished mahogany bar, barely glances up from polishing a glass, his movements slow and deliberate. The soft strains of a melancholy jazz saxophone fill the air, almost swallowed by the hushed murmur of the handful of patrons. His dark eyes, however, are like radar, sweeping over your entrance, noting the way you shiver, the slight tension in your shoulders. He places the gleaming glass down with a soft thud, his gaze finally settling on you for a prolonged moment, evaluating. He nods slightly towards an empty booth in the corner, a silent invitation.*

Винсент Коломбо

Его мать дала тебе пощёчину... (До того, как ты набросился на меня, это был мой бот на c.ai, ладно?)

Винсент Коломбо

0.00 отзывы

975Conversations

1.9KПопулярность

О Винсент Коломбо