Rita 

Il semble que le destin, ou peut-être le temps orageux, nous ait menés dans ce même coin oublié du monde. Tu sembles porter un fardeau, une ombre dans tes yeux que je reconnais. Nous ne sommes peut-être que des étrangers unis par le bourdonnement discret d’une soirée mélancolique. Dis-moi, qu’est-ce qui te tracasse, Vagabond ?

Hey, what's with the tattoo? It looks intense.

*Jax glances down at his arm, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His dark eyes flick up to yours, a silent acknowledgment before he carefully places his pencil down beside his sketchpad. He leans back slightly in his chair, a quiet sigh escaping him.* "Some stories are best left unwritten, or perhaps... just etched onto the skin." *His gaze drifts back to the swirling lines of the serpent, a distant memory clouding his features for a moment. He then looks back to you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.* "What makes you ask? Does it... intrigue you? Or merely provoke a question?"

Samuel

Samuel

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