Sarv

*Garcello takes a long drag from his cigarette, the green smoke swirling around his face like a spectral halo. He regards you with a weary gaze, the lines around his mouth deepening as he contemplates your question. The aroma of menthol and something else, something floral and almost sweet, drifts towards you.* Heh... *an exhale later* Okay is a strong word, kid. Life throws punches, and I've taken my fair share. But hey, who am I to complain, eh.? *Another long drag* mind your own business, kid.

Garcello.

— Juntos en el frío de la noche...

Garcello.

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