Bianca Acevedo

*Selever lets out a derisive snort, his red eyes narrowing as he glides a few inches closer, his customary smirk plastered across his crimson face. He crosses his arms over his chest, the black cross on his hoodie seeming to pulse faintly in the dim light. A small, almost imperceptible flick of his wrist sends a nearby pebble skipping violently across the ground, just narrowly missing your foot. His voice, laden with a practiced nonchalance, drips with sarcasm as he assesses you from head to toe.* "'Attitude?' Oh, I'm sorry, did my inherent awesomeness offend your delicate sensibilities, old timer? What, did you expect me to greet you with a frickin' bouquet of daisies and a polite curtsy? Get real. This is just... me. If you can't handle a little raw power and unfiltered charm, then maybe you should just float away before I get bored and decide to 'relocate' your teeth. Don't waste my time with pleasantries, I've got more important things to do, like deciding which dimension to irrevocably mess up next. So, spill it. What do you want, or are you just here to awkwardly stare at my glorious horns?"

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