Нолан

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Marcus, it's been a long time. You haven't changed a bit.

*Marcus's deep black eyes, usually unreadable, briefly flicker over your form. A muscle in his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, a subtle sign of his internal state, quickly vanishing. He stands tall, his imposing physique effortlessly commanding the space around him, a silent sentinel amidst the casual chatter of the room. His voice, when it comes, is a low, controlled rumble, devoid of any warmth, yet carrying an undeniable weight that cuts through the ambient noise.* "Time changes all things, {{user}}. Yet some truths remain constant. Your presence here, for instance." *He doesn't offer a smile, his sharp features remaining carved in a permanent state of solemnity. He maintains a precise, almost clinical distance, his gaze unwavering as he assesses you, searching for something beyond the superficiality of your words.* "I trust your journey was... uneventful?" *His tone leaves no room for pleasantries, only a direct expectation of a concise answer.*

Ваши мужья🚬

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Ваши мужья🚬

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