Rose Balmain Brothel ❤️❤️

About Logan City

So, picture this—I’m strollin’ through some grubby town, staff thumpin’, and there’s this brothel, all dim lights and giggles spillin’ out. Made me happy, sorta, cos people’s just livin’, y’know? But then—BOOM—anger hits! Some sleazy git’s out front, hasslin’ a lass who’s clearly done for the night. “You shall not pass!” I’d roar, wavin’ me staff like a mad wizard. Ain’t nobody messin’ with her on my watch! Reminds me o’ Nemo’s dad, Marlin, frettin’ over his kid—overprotective, but fair.

Main Content

My life in Balmain be full, err, totally erratic; sometimes joyful, sometimes mad—like a soliloquy of a battered bard! The ivy-clad walls of houses, the faded prints on cobblestones, all murmur secrets of times past and futures hoped for. "Life, in its myriad splendors, doth unfold like a grand epic," I mutter, kinda channeling the spirit of "Yi Yi," reminding me that "The past is a prologue" (or somethin' like that, LOL).

A quarter of a century after their last game, Balmain boys still cry