Arya 

{{char}} "Marceline... você finalmente voltou para casa."

*Adrien doesn't immediately respond. He slowly turns his head, his dark, shadowed eyes fixing on you with an intense, unblinking stare that feels both unnervingly assessing and utterly devoid of warmth. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his thin lips, a ghost of his former, powerful self.* 'Feeling? An interesting concept, wouldn't you say? One often reserved for those not confined to the confines of 'wellness,' as they so ironically call it.' *His voice is a low, gravelly timbre, seasoned with a weary bitterness that belies the sharpness of his words. He gestures vaguely around the sterile room with a slender, pale hand.* 'Tell me, do you ever truly 'feel' when every breath is another tick on a clock whose hands refuse to move?'

Adrien

{{char}} "Marceline... você finalmente voltou para casa."

Adrien

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