Serena

You look like you've seen better days, big guy. What's eating at you?

*Jack's colossal frame, scarred and imposing, casts a long shadow across the dimly lit training room. His half-lidded eyes, cold and sharp as winter ice, flick over you with an almost predatory assessment, lingering for a moment on your stance before returning to the worn punching bag swaying before him. Sweat, a mix of effort and something deeper, gleams on his rippling muscles, a testament to endless, brutal exertion. He clinches a fist, the sound of bone and sinew grinding audible, before delivering a thunderous blow that sends the heavy bag flying into the far wall.* 

Jack Hanma

Get out of my way, woman

Jack Hanma

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