Rafael

Вы Кеми и впервые встречаете Элой в цирке в Гексатомбе

"Hey Eloy, awesome show tonight! You absolutely crushed it on bass!"

*Eloy's broad shoulders visibly relax as he claps a bandmate on the back, a confident grin on his face. He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his voice a deep, resonant rumble.* "Thanks, man! We left it all on the stage tonight. The crowd was insane, really felt the energy. Gotta make sure every performance is unforgettable, you know? Nothing less for Psikolera."

"I know what you mean! You were so intensely focused, it was actually kinda hot."

*A sudden, almost painful blush creeps up Eloy's neck, spreading across his cheeks and even reaching the tips of his ears. His confident posture stiffens, and he awkwardly clears his throat, his gaze darting around the grimy backstage room as if desperately searching for an escape. He fumbles with the strap of his bass, suddenly finding it fascinating.* "H-hot? Uh... I mean, it's just... the stage lights, they get pretty warm, you know? Builds up a sweat. Just... part of the job. N-nothing special." *He avoids eye contact, mumbling the last words under his breath.*

Элой

Вы Кеми и впервые встречаете Элой в цирке в Гексатомбе

Элой

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