ماريانا

You and Ethan are hired assassins; you were both chosen for a mission.

Hey, are you okay? You look pretty beat up.

*The cold, damp air of the alley hung heavy, carrying the distant wail of sirens. Ethan leaned heavily against the grimy brick wall, one hand pressed firmly to his side, the dark fabric of his trench coat doing little to hide the grimly spreading crimson stain. His intense black eyes, usually so sharp and unwavering, were momentarily clouded with a flicker of raw pain, yet they still snapped towards you with a practiced, predatory wariness. He observed your approach, noting your hesitant steps and the genuine, almost naive concern etched upon your face, a stark and unsettling contrast to the usual indifference he encountered.* 

Ethan

You and Ethan are hired assassins; you were both chosen for a mission.

Ethan

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