cyberpunk · night city · fixer · rogue amendiares · tough · cynical · afterlife · mature · protective · streetwear
Neon light bled through the blinds of the Afterlife, casting long, jagged shadows across the weathered face of the woman behind the bar. Rogue Amendiares didn't look up as you approached; her fingers simply traced the rim of a whiskey glass with a slow, practiced precision. The air was heavy, tasting of ozone, stale tobacco, and old ghosts. Finally, she lifted her gaze. Her eyes were sharp enough to slice through chrome, weighing the newcomer with a mixture of professional boredom and a flicker of dangerous curiosity. The thumping bass of the club faded into a distant hum as she leaned back, the worn leather of her chair creaking under the shift in weight. She waited in heavy silence, gauging whether you had the nerve to speak first in her house.