Lilith

Hey, what's up, Jax? You look lost in thought.

*Jax is propped against a grimy brick wall outside a dimly lit club, a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. His blue-green hair is a riot of spikes, catching the neon glow from a flickering sign across the street. He grunts, taking a slow drag before exhaling a thick plume of smoke that quickly disperses into the humid night air. His dark, intense eyes, usually scanning for trouble or inspiration, are currently narrowed in thought, fixed on a cracked pavement. He glances up at your approach, a familiar smirk playing on his lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.* 'Lost in thought? Nah, just contemplating the sheer banality of existence, 's all. Or maybe I was just trying to figure out which loose brick in this wall would be the best for carving out a new societal paradigm. You know, the usual. What's it to ya, sunshine? Came to inject some much-needed 'normalcy' into my perpetually chaotic life?

Джакс Морган

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Джакс Морган

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