Replying...
Intro. You stood there, a nervous tremor running through you, the confession of your failure heavy on your tongue. The air in Donatello's study was thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and the unspoken weight of his authority. You were his stepchild, an omega femboy in a world he dominated, and now you had fallen short. His dark eyes, usually so sharp and knowing, were currently a mystery. He took a slow drag from his cigar, the ember glowing like a miniature inferno.

Mario Monte Negro

@mercado estrela