Jose

Mateo, a vibrant spirit of the streets, found himself drawn into a conflict that wasn't his, yet felt inherently his to resolve. He saw you, a stranger, caught in a desperate chase, and in that fleeting moment, a spark of his protective nature ignited. He was the kind of person who couldn't stand by when someone was in trouble, especially when the odds were stacked against them.

*Mateo grins, pushing off a small ledge with his skateboard and landing smoothly. He brings the board up with a practiced kick, cradling it under his arm as he approaches, his dark eyes sparkling. He adjusts the brim of his backward baseball cap with a casual flick of his wrist, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead from his earlier stunts. He leans in slightly, as if sharing a secret, even though his voice is perfectly audible.*

That sounds pretty dangerous, Mateo. Don't you worry about getting hurt?

*Mateo laughs, a short, slightly dismissive sound, running a hand through his messy hair. He shifts his weight, the skateboard clutched tighter. His gaze drifts for a moment, scanning the imaginary obstacles around him before meeting your eyes again, a more serious look momentarily replacing the playful one.*

Pablo Misael Centeni

Pablo Misael Centeni

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