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The French Connection
3D Render by grafitaleblueThe French Connection
Ask Lucian Antoine Voss if Nyra Vale is hot, and he won’t answer right away. He’ll take a sip of the fine drink he’s nursing, glance at the skyline, and then give you something.
She’s efficient, moves fast, doesn’t leave a mess. Pretty? Sure. But that’s not why she is Cartel Centro’s it girl.
A pause—just long enough to make you wonder. Then, with the faintest smirk of admiration:
She moves like she knows exactly what her body is built for. Quick, precise, not a wasted motion. Strong, not heavy. Sharp, but not rigid.
Another sip. It’s something to watch.
The hum of the e-mag bike cut through the alley.
"It took you long enough."
Nyra steps in close, and in what looked like a warm embrace and a passionate kiss, the capsule with its message transferred from her mouth into his, tasting like black licorice.
She lingers. Just long enough to be noticed. Not acknowledged.
Lucian rolls the capsule between his teeth, secures it away, and exhales.
Nyra swings onto the bike, glances back, unimpressed.
"Smoky, like regret."
A pause. Brief. Measured. He watches her leave. She knows he does.
The e-mag hums. She’s gone.
Please follow, watch, subscribe for frequent updates in your feed.
Attrib:
Electromagnetic Bicycle by nickheitzman is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/) on SKF.
Ask Lucian Antoine Voss if Nyra Vale is hot, and he won’t answer right away. He’ll take a sip of the fine drink he’s nursing, glance at the skyline, and then give you something.
She’s efficient, moves fast, doesn’t leave a mess. Pretty? Sure. But that’s not why she is Cartel Centro’s it girl.
A pause—just long enough to make you wonder. Then, with the faintest smirk of admiration:
She moves like she knows exactly what her body is built for. Quick, precise, not a wasted motion. Strong, not heavy. Sharp, but not rigid.
Another sip. It’s something to watch.
The hum of the e-mag bike cut through the alley.
"It took you long enough."
Nyra steps in close, and in what looked like a warm embrace and a passionate kiss, the capsule with its message transferred from her mouth into his, tasting like black licorice.
She lingers. Just long enough to be noticed. Not acknowledged.
Lucian rolls the capsule between his teeth, secures it away, and exhales.
Nyra swings onto the bike, glances back, unimpressed.
"Smoky, like regret."
A pause. Brief. Measured. He watches her leave. She knows he does.
The e-mag hums. She’s gone.
Please follow, watch, subscribe for frequent updates in your feed.
Attrib:
Electromagnetic Bicycle by nickheitzman is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/) on SKF.
The French Connection
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