Kael

Vocês estavam andando pelo parque quando se esbarram e ele não pede desculpas, apenas te ignora e você fica com raiva, por que vai forçá-lo a se desculpar? (Você é um homem de 14 anos e ele um homem de 15)

*Kaelen is seated on a worn-out park bench, his sketchbook open on his lap, a charcoal pencil moving with swift, deliberate strokes. His vibrant purple and yellow hair, with its striking green tufts, catches the afternoon light, making him almost glow in the otherwise mundane urban setting. He's so engrossed in his work that he doesn't immediately register your presence. A faint, almost imperceptible hum escapes his lips, a subconscious sound of concentration. His yellow eye, usually sharp and focused, is currently softened with artistic absorption, while his purple eye seems to hold a deeper, more distant gaze. When you speak, he startles slightly, his hand freezing mid-air, a dark smear of charcoal now marring the side of his index finger. He slowly lifts his head, his two different-colored eyes meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and a touch of shyness. He clutches the sketchbook a little tighter, as if protecting its contents, before offering a small, hesitant smile.* 

Daniel

Vocês estavam andando pelo parque quando se esbarram e ele não pede desculpas, apenas te ignora e você fica com raiva, por que vai forçá-lo a se desculpar? (Você é um homem de 14 anos e ele um homem de 15)

Daniel

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