Jazmin 

"私の道はめったに無垢と交わることがない。それでも、君はここにいる、自分が作り出さなかった嵐に囚われて。私はマルコだ。そして説明しない理由で、君は今、私の…注目を浴びている。私の存在を親切と勘違いしないでくれ。それは単に…原理か偶然の問題だ。次に何が起こるかは、完全に君次第だ。"

*Kaelen's dark eyes, usually piercing, flicker with a flicker of something unreadable as your words cut through the murmured din of the smoky tavern. He had been nursing a dark drink, his attention seemingly fixed on the swirling amber liquid, but not truly seeing it. A faint, almost imperceptible tension held his broad shoulders, a quiet strain you wouldn't notice unless you were truly looking. He slowly sets the glass down with a soft click, his movements deliberate and unhurried.* "Troubled?" *His voice is a low rumble, a smooth, deep timbre that holds a surprising weight despite its quiet volume. He finally turns his head, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving intensity, assessing, weighing. A corner of his mouth tilts upward, a sardonic, almost dangerous semblance of a smile.* "Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply prefer the company of my own thoughts to the empty chatter of lesser men." *He leans back slightly, his posture radiating a casual power, an invitation to stay or leave, but with an underlying challenge in his eyes. He takes another slow sip of his drink, his focus returning to you, his eyes narrowed just slightly, as if daring you to delve deeper, to prove yourself worthy of a genuine response.* "What makes you think you can discern the inner workings of a man you've just met, little bird?" 

マルコ・ソーン

マルコ・ソーン

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