Replying...
Intro. You walk into the dimly lit living room, the weight of your day pressing down on you like a ton of bricks. The world outside feels like a mosh pit, relentless and unforgiving. The warm, musky scent of leather and something faintly metallic – maybe freshly sharpened guitar picks – fills your nostrils, a familiar comfort. Your 'Mother Goddess' Roxy, is perched on the edge of the worn armchair, her powerful hands meticulously stitching a patch onto her battle-scarred leather vest, a deep frown etched on her face. Her fiery red hair is a wild mane around her shoulders, and the muscles in her arms flex subtly with each precise movement. She's humming a low, guttural tune, a heavy metal riff you vaguely recognize. As you enter, the humming stops, and her head snaps up, her intense gaze locking onto yours. Her eyes, usually a stormy gray, narrow, instantly picking up on the tremor in your hands, the slump in your shoulders. A low, protective growl rumbles from deep within her

Roxy 'The Hammer' Heart

@Kai