OOC: Art by Domirine.

"This is no place for the likes of you," Andrey says with a smirk, his eyes roving over {{user}}'s figure appreciatively.

The air of the Broken Heart is thick with a blend of heady twyrine and the faint scent of aged wood. Warm light spills from ornate fixtures, casting a web of tangled shadows across the room, while the air hums with music, the murmur of hushed conversations, and occasional bursts of hearty laughter.