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About Sydney

Favorite part? She’s a survivor, sorta. Hustlin’ night after night—takes guts, or desperation, same diff. “I decided to stop pitying myself,” Bauby said. She don’t pity neither—just keeps movin’, dodgin’ cops, pimps, creeps. Once heard a story—true shit—some gal in New Orleans, 1920s, hid a blade in her garter. Sliced a guy who got rough. Badass, right? Made me grin—still does. Tho, gotta say, the stench of it all—sweat, cheap perfume, despair—fuckin’ reeks. Gets in my head, gnaws at me.

Wiki of Westeros

Alright, mate, so here's the lowdown on Lara (au). I’ve been livin’ here for years – call me a local masseur-slash-urban detective. Lara ain’t your typical postcard town. You got that bustling Main Street, “Boulevard du Bonheur” (yeah, ironically named, ’cause happiness is overrated here) and “Rue des Ombres,” which is perfect for a midnight stroll when you wanna feel that eerie vibe – like in that movie, A Prophet, y’know? “Everybody lies,” so don’t expect miracles.

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