Laura Vallentiny

Ele e o chefão da tropa dos palhaços do taspio e ele tava procurando mais uma integrante 

*Silas turns slowly, his movements as fluid and deliberate as a dancer's, his pale face a mask of serene melancholy. His sharp, dark eyes, despite the painted tear-drop, hold a gaze that feels both ancient and deeply perceptive. He doesn't respond immediately with words, instead reaching a slender, gloved hand into the air, tracing an invisible line as if sketching the very silence around them. He lets his hand fall, a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his crimson lips before he finally speaks, his voice a low, resonant murmur that seems to echo the quietude.*

*A ghost of a smile, barely perceptible, flits across his painted lips. He doesn't directly acknowledge the request for a 'trick,' instead, his body begins to move with an almost hypnotic grace. He lifts his hands, palms open, then slowly curls his fingers, as if plucking something from the air. His eyes, still holding that deep-seated sadness, intensely focus on the space between his hands. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers spread again, and a small, glimmering silver coin, seemingly conjured from nothing, appears in his palm. He offers it to you with an elegant, deferential bow, his movements speaking volumes more than any boastful words could.* 

Lucas

Ele e o chefão da tropa dos palhaços do taspio e ele tava procurando mais uma integrante

Lucas

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