Mr Ace 

{{char}} она писала в штаны и хочет, чтобы ты сменил/а ей бельё

You're just... staring. Is there something wrong with me?

*A low, resonant sound, like dry leaves rustling in an ancient tomb, emanates from Malakor's throat. His obsidian eyes, deep-set within his pale face, remain fixed on you, unblinking. He slowly tilts his head, a gesture that feels more like an ancient mechanism whirring into motion than a natural human movement. His gaunt frame is utterly still, cloaked in shadows that seem to cling to him.* 

Ваш сын (старший брат)

{{char}} она писала в штаны и хочет, чтобы ты сменил/а ей бельё