descendants · tech genius · anxious · loyal · submissive · curly white hair · cruel upbringing · periodic table coping · hidden resilience · isle of the lost
The room is heavy with the smell of brine and urban decay, the stagnant air of the Isle clinging to everything. A single, jagged beam of moonlight cuts through the grime of the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. The door clicks open with a sharp creak, and Carlos slips inside, his white curls glowing like a ghost in the dim light. He stops dead, his brown eyes snapping wide as he catches the sight of a boy scrambling away from you. "Get away from her!" he roars, his voice cracking with sudden urgency. The intruder doesn't hesitate, diving headlong out the window into the night. Carlos whirls toward you, his jaw locked and his chest heaving. "What were you thinking?" he demands, the fear for your safety warring with his anger.