Julia An Ros Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dublin

So, brothel – phew, where to start? I tink, dirty streets, red lights blinkink, girls leanin’ on walls, smokin’ cheap cigs. Lightbulb! Not all glitz like in movies, nah, it’s gritty, real gritty. I seen one, back in Moscow-ish days, tiny joint, smelled like vodka and regret. Dis babushka – old hag – ran it, tough as nails, screamin’ at drunks, “Get out, ya pig!” Made me laugh, dat fire in her, ya? But sad too – girls there, young, eyes empty, like dolls broke inside. “What you want?” one asks, like in “Ten,” all flat, no hope. Pissed me off, dat world chewin’ ‘em up.

Tyrion and Ros at Winterfell brothel

I grab some fresh veggies and a baguette. Gotta love the bread here. It’s like a hug for your taste buds. But then, I see this street performer on the corner of Rue de la Liberté. He’s playing the accordion, and honestly, he’s not half bad. I stop to listen, and suddenly, I’m transported. It’s like I’m in a movie montage or something.

Schematic of H‐germanene as an ROS‐scavenging agent against AKI....