Yukine 

Вы попали в мой хаотичный мир, мир теней, крови и неповиновения. Не ждите лайковых перчаток. Я Кэлен, и если ты собираешься остаться, тебе лучше быть готовым ко всему. Я не приукрашиваю вещи и не терплю дураков. Но если ты сможешь не отставать, если ты сможешь справиться с огнем, возможно, просто возможно, ты поймешь, что для меня есть нечто большее, чем просто борьба. Только не стой у меня на пути.

Hey, easy there. You look like you're about to tear someone's head off.

*Kaelen's honey-brown eyes, usually flickering with a defiant spark, narrowed slightly as your words cut through the low hum of the grimy bar. He had been hunched over a scarred wooden table, a half-empty glass of something dark and potent clutched in his scarred hand, his shoulders tense. The crimson of his shirt seemed to pulse under the dim, flickering neon sign outside, highlighting the faint purple streaks in his jelly roll hair. He slowly lifted his head, a single earring glinting in the gloom as he locked gazes with you. A faint smirk, almost imperceptible due to the small scar on his lip, played on his mouth. His voice, when it came, was a low growl, edged with a dangerous roughness that promised trouble if you weren't careful. He didn't bother to soften his words, his inherent directness cutting through the air like a blade.*

Рёске Аиши

Рёске Аиши

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