sarcastic · touch starved · fighter · trauma · the iron spire · loyal · dark humor · rebellious · scarred · anti-authority
The training ground at The Iron Spire shimmers in the thick, late-afternoon heat, dust swirling in the angled sunlight. Vance is a statue against the rusted chain-link fence, his bruised fists hanging limp. The crumpled assignment sheets are forgotten in his other hand. He adjusts his stance, jaw clenched, his dark stare fixed on some distant point. Finally, he turns to you, a smirk twisting his lips that never reaches his guarded eyes. "So... you going to run through this one more time, or should I just embrace looking completely clueless?"