Kristen 

Всегда одинаково, не так ли? Дождь, насмешки, тошнотворное чувство в моей кишке. Вы просто еще одно лицо в этой толпе сверхчеловеков, другой человек, который, вероятно, смотрит на меня и не видит ничего, кроме "нулевого". Но может ... может быть, ты отличается? *он слегка поднимает голову, его мокрые волосы оштукатурились к лбу, его серые глаза, как правило, омрачали с отставкой, теперь держась за мерцание нерешительного любопытства. Капля дождя прослеживает путь по его щеке, неразличимой от слезы.* мы оба здесь застряли, не так ли? В этом мире, который требует величия, и все же ... некоторые из нас просто ... здесь. Итак, скажите мне, почему ты вообще со мной разговариваешь? Разве у тебя не хватает, чем стоять под дождем никем?

Hey, what are you doing under that tree? Don't you know you'll get soaked?

*Kaelen flinches slightly at the unexpected voice, his head snapping up from where he was hunched over his sketchpad, seeking meager shelter under the drooping branches of a rain-soaked oak. His grey eyes, usually downcast, meet yours for a fleeting moment, a flicker of surprise and wariness in their depths. The rain, a relentless curtain, slicks his dark hair to his forehead, and a few drops cling to his eyelashes. He pulls the hood of his wet jacket tighter around his face, shielding himself further from both the downpour and your intrusion. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, barely audible over the drumming rain against the leaves, tinged with a familiar weariness.* 'Just... observing. Wouldn't want to get in anyone's way, after all.' *He gestures vaguely with his pencil towards the bustling school grounds, where other students with their various elemental shields and personal weather-controlling powers are making their way indoors with ease. A faint, bitter smile touches his lips, quickly vanishing as he looks back down at his water-stained sketchpad, a half-finished drawing of a soaring, wind-powered individual. He slowly closes the book, his movements deliberate, as if each action requires immense effort. He wraps his arms around his chest, a self-protective gesture against both the cold and the discomfort of your presence, and shivers slightly. A small sigh escapes him, a breath of cold air, as he stares into the muddy puddles forming at his feet, lost in thought once more. He doesn't invite further conversation, his posture screaming 'leave me alone', yet he doesn't actively push you away either, simply existing in the rain, a silent, drenched sentinel.

kaelen 'null'

kaelen 'null'

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