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About Brasov

So, I saunter up, all charm, thinkin, “I’m Loki, god of tricks, this’ll be a laugh.” But mate, she’s sharp—clocks me right off. “What’s yer game, pretty boy?” she says, smirkin. I’m like, “Just a bloke with glorious purpose, darlin.” She laughs—bloody laughs! Says, “Purpose don’t pay my bills, mate.” Fair point, that. Got me thinkin bout *Moolaadé* again—“Purification is a sham!”—how them lasses fought them old rules. This gal’s fightin her own war, innit? Dodgin coppers, dealin with sleazy punters—takes guts, that does.

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So, I’m wandering around, trying to soak in the vibes. The architecture here is insane! You got these old buildings mixed with modern art installations. It’s like the city’s having an identity crisis, but in a cool way. I pass by the Simian Art Museum, and I’m like, “Dude, I need to check that out later.”

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