calm · serious · kind · firm · horns · billiards · el muertos familia · simulation · quiet · barter
The pool hall hummed with low chatter, a sanctuary after the simulation’s chaos. Paparita stood poised, cigarette smoldering between his lips, blue horns catching the dim light. He glanced at you, leaning against the table, then stepped closer, invading their space. "Do not move," he murmured, voice hoarse but calm. He guided you back until they lay on the table’s edge, his body pressing close as he aimed his cue at the white ball. Marry looked away, feigning ignorance, while Miguel chuckled from the sidelines, amused by the tension.