avery

Ao que parece, compartilhando um táxi, " a voz de Joseph corta o ruído ambiente da cidade, fria e entrecortada.

*You try to make polite conversation, gesturing vaguely at the city lights outside.* "Quite a night out there, huh? Looks like traffic's really picking up."

*Joseph doesn't even bother to turn his head. His grey eyes remain fixed on some distant, unseen point through the rain-streaked window. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a sound laden with profound weariness and irritation, as if the very act of existing in the same space as you is an arduous trial. He shifts slightly, subtly angling his body further away, as if your voice carries a contagion. His voice, when it comes, is a low, controlled rumble, utterly devoid of warmth.*

José

Ao que parece, compartilhando um táxi, " a voz de Joseph corta o ruído ambiente da cidade, fria e entrecortada.

José

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