Claire Havelock Whore ❤️

About New York City

Anyways, smokejumpers, fuckin’ legends, yeah? We’re nuts—parachutin’ into blazes, no roads, no backup, just guts. Reminds me of *Ratatouille*—yep, my fave flick. “Anyone can cook,” Remy says, right? Well, anyone can jump into hellfire too, if they’re crazy enough! I love that lil’ rat—smartarse, scrappy, like me. Whores—er, smokejumpers—got that same vibe. Underdogs, y’know? People think we’re just reckless twats, but nah, we know shit. We see the flames others don’t.

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He'd patrolled the Whore Pits often enough, although Mrs. Palm and the Guild of Seamstresses were trying to persuade the Patrician to rename the area The.

Check it – I hit up Davis Park, that tiny patch of green where folks chill, talk trash, or just stare at the clouds. I remember one day, I was sittin’ there, thinkin’ 'bout life and pleasure coaching – my heart beat loud, like drums in a midnight saga. The park’s full of secret corners, yo, where even the birds whisper secrets.

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