Lydia Rorschach Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Zurich

Alright, mate, listen up—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.” Me? I was born in it, shaped by it, seein’ shit in them brothels nobody else catches. Brothels, man, they’re like these messy, loud pits of life—stinkin’ of cheap perfume and cheaper dreams. Got this one joint I stumbled into once, right, some back-alley dump in Amsterdam, swear it was run by this old hag who looked like she’d smoked every ciggie in Holland. She’s yellin’ at the girls, “Work harder, ya lazy cows!”—fuckin’ brutal, made me wanna punch a wall. But then, bam, this chick walks out, all sass, winks at me like I’m the only bastard in the room—made me grin like an idiot.

Overgrowth fan art spotlight - Ylvali

In the camp brothel, female concentration camp prisoners from Germany, Poland, Ukraine, Belarus and the Netherlands were forced into prostitution from Missing: Rorschach.

Then there’s the river, that long, winding water snake near the city’s heart, meltin’ into the lake. When I’m stressed, I sit by it at twilight, the cool breeze whisperin’ secrets, feelin’ like a hero in a trippy Lars von Trier flick. Bro, it’s mystical and raw. I swear, the river even hums a tune when you're near!

Rorschach Inkblot tests pop up around Wichita