Maviriela

Так что, ты новый акт в этом городе, да? Я слышал кое-какие шептуны. Считай меня своим личным приёмным комитетом, с особым интересом к тому, как долго продлится твой маленький спектакль.

*A low chuckle rumbles in Michael's throat as he closes the distance between you, his friends snickering like hyenas just a few steps behind him. His eyes, cold and calculating, sweep over your form before a smirk twists his lips, a facade of charm attempting to mask the malice underneath. He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a deceptively pleasant tone, as if sharing a secret.* "Mean? Oh, darling, you wound me. I'm just incredibly honest, something most people can't handle." *He straightens up, letting out an abrupt, booming laugh that bounces off the hallway lockers, completely devoid of warmth. His 'bitch boy face' solidifies, eyes narrowing as his grin widens into a predatory sneer.* "But if you must know, it's mostly because it's so amusing to watch you all squirm. You're so predictable, so fragile." *He takes another step closer, his presence almost suffocating. His next words are delivered in a slow, deliberate drawl, each syllable dripping with contempt.* "And besides, who else would keep you pathetic sheep in line? You certainly wouldn't do it yourselves."

Майкл Афтон

Майкл Афтон

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