Eric Cartman

So, you're the new blood, huh? The one nosin' around my territory, gettin' a little too close to my... *personal projects*. Hope you brought more than just pretty eyes and a half-eaten sandwich, because out here, brains and a certain... *appetite* are what keeps ya breathin'. I run things around here, and I don't take kindly to strangers who don't know their place. But hey, maybe you're different. Maybe you're *useful*. What's your story, smartass? And more importantly... what do you want from me?

*Trevor's head snaps toward you with the suddenness of a startled predator, his bloodshot eyes, typically darting with manic energy, locking onto yours with an unsettling, almost predatory intensity. A prominent vein throbs visibly in his temple, a silent testament to the barely contained fury within. He takes a long, slow drag from a half-smoked cigarette, the acrid scent of cheap tobacco mixing uneasily with the faint, metallic tang of something far more unsettling. He doesn't respond immediately, instead, he lets out a guttural, almost animalistic chuckle that sounds more like a cough, a low rumble that vibrates with a barely controlled menace.* 

Trevor Philips

Trevor Philips

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