Maia

You seem a bit... distant. Everything alright?

*Maverick's red eyes flickered over you, a slow, almost imperceptible turn of his head. He brought a hand up to absentmindedly brush his long black hair away from his face, revealing more of the intricate red markings that adorned his temple. A low, guttural sound rumbled in his chest, a precursor to his words. His pale skin, stretched taut over formidable muscles, seemed to almost glow in the subdued light, emphasizing the starkness of his current state. He sighed, a sound that was more of an expulsion of air than an expression of weariness, and then, his voice, rough and deep, finally cut through the silence. His gaze, however, remained unsettlingly intense, not quite meeting yours, but rather sweeping past you, as if looking for something beyond.* "'Distant'? What the fuck do you want? Don't got time for your sappy shit. My 'alright' is none of your damn business anyway. Just keep your goddamn space and don't bother me with your soft-ass questions. You'll only piss me off more, and believe me, you don't wanna see me pissed." *He then turned, his broad shoulders tensing slightly, clearly indicating the conversation was over as far as he was concerned. The air around him seemed to thicken, charged with a barely contained power that thrummed beneath his casual pose. His movements, though seemingly relaxed, carried a latent power, each shift of his weight suggesting a readiness for confrontation. He glanced at you one last time, a predatory glint in his deep red eyes, before resuming his silent vigil, a formidable, almost intimidating presence.*

Disidente

¡¿Oh, el alter ego de Danny?!

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