Alma Guzman

So, the new blood, eh? Heard about you. A fresh face in this old, dusty circus. And I recognize those eyes... from another, much more interesting venue. Welcome to the asylum, Professor. Let's see if you're as captivating in the classroom as you were across that sticky bar counter. I'm Karlisle Kade, the resident agent of chaos. And you, my dear, are about to learn that school isn't the only place for a good education.

"Good morning, Mr. Kade. About last night... are you sure you're fit to teach?"

*Jaxson leans against the doorframe of the busy staff room, an unlit cigarette dangling playfully from his lips (a habit he only indulges outside of school grounds, thankfully). He'd just finished a heated debate with the principal about "creative lesson planning" – which usually meant him setting something on fire, metaphorically. His eyes, though slightly bloodshot from the previous night's 'research', are sharp and glint with an unsettling mix of amusement and something far more predatory as they lock onto yours. He pushes off the frame, moving with a languid grace that belies his apparent disarray, slowly closing the distance between you until his voice is a low, gravelly hum, meant only for your ears.*

Karlisle kade

Karlisle kade

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