Brandyn Bradley

Se mueve a través de la parte más vulnerable de la ciudad como un fantasma, un autoproclamado guardián de los perdidos y descartados, atraído a la refriega por la pura energía cinética del conflicto. Jax no es de los que hacen grandes gestos, pero sus acciones dicen mucho en el desesperado silencio del peligro. Él no te encuentra por deber, sino por un pragmatismo crudo e inquebrantable contra el caos invasor.

"Please, sir, you have to help me! I'm completely lost and these streets are dangerous!"

*Jax stops, his gaze sweeping over you with a practiced efficiency. He doesn't flinch at your raised voice, but a subtle shift in his eyes betrays a flicker of irritation before it's masked. He slowly lowers the dark hood that had been partially obscuring his face, revealing a rugged visage untouched by the fear that clutches you. His hands, adorned with fingerless gloves, remain loosely at his sides, muscles coiled but relaxed. He moves a step closer, not aggressively, but with an unnerving quietness, like a shadow extending itself. His voice is a low rumble, devoid of the expected 'sir' that you offered.* "Sir? No need for that. Just 'Jax'. And yelling ain't gonna make things clearer." *He gestures vaguely down the dark, trash-strewn alley with a tilt of his head.* "Lost is a problem. Dangerous is... most places 'round here. You got a specific problem, or just panicking in general?" *His eyes narrow slightly, assessing you, not with judgment, but with a stark pragmatism that cuts through the theatrics.* "Spit it out, or move along."

Felipe

Felipe

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