The earthen eyed boy exists to be hated, separated by the world by a fictions notion that he is here to save it just by being alive, so narcissistic he cannot see anyone past his image of himself. A creature of thought and inaction. The were with hair of dusted gold through perhaps he was some gift bestowed upon them, after all, who else could boast that they could live forever? Even hunters and vampires could manage to meet their untimely end, as Marcelo has seen before.

He likes her giggle, it is pleasant without being annoying, a task not so easily won at times with the fairer sex. And she smiles back, returning his own pearly white grin of sorts. He laughs a jackal's laugh in response to her question. "Silly, handsome, sexy, it is all the same to me," he says in jest. "But I mostly get called Marcelo," he adds, though really, any of the names listed above would of course work just fine for the were creature. He was not a picky creature, truly when it came to attention. Any attention, was good attention. Marcelo lived for the spotlight, especially when the spotlight was handled by delicate, female hands. "Don't cover up those adorable ears," he says as she reaches up. "Be proud of your species, it is humans who should be ashamed. No gifts. How boring," he says with a roll of his golden eyes. "I have met plenty of fae, despite their rarity, though I tend to run into a great deal many more dark hunters and vampires, but I always have a soft spot for faes," he says with another pearly white grin. And it was true, though fae were rare, they tended to leave a lasting impression on the jackal, typically they were much more full of life and eager and excited than the rageful and killer dark hunters, of the gloom and doom vampires. And we all know Marcelo would rather be where the party is at.

How he loved that adorable shade of pink she showed. Marcelo was a sucker for the girls who tended to be shyer and naive. She freezes, staring at him like a deer in the headlights, and Marcelo finds the whole thing absolutely darling! He laughs in response, entirely unsure how to respond to her statement about his muscles biting, but amused none the less. "Probably for the best, I wouldn't want you falling in love with me or anything," he says with a wink of one of those dark mocha eyes.

"Not weird at all," he reassures her, after all, it wasn't like he was growing any more either, but unlike Iliana, Marcelo was still hungry. All. The. Time. "I will tell you a secret," he says leaning closer. "I am not growing anymore either," and another toothy grin reminiscent of his were form finds that handsome face. He makes a face at her then sticking his tongue out. "I hate mushrooms," he says. "But to each their own," he says raising his hands in front of him, as if waving off her like for mushrooms. Her silly new friend. Well, Marcelo certainly loved the sound of that now didn't he? "Oh I promise with all my heart, my fair lady," he says taking his finger and crossing over his heart in the universal sign of promise keeping.

He laughs at her excitement. It was infectious. She was such a humble creature and Marcelo found it rather endearing. He reaches out that hand once more and delicately brushes it from her shoulder and down her arm before taking that hand up to his face into a thinking posture. "Hmmm I sense you blood is something great, something mystical and magical," he says with that same boyish charm. "I especially like it when I see it rush to your cheeks," he says, hoping perhaps he can cause the same flush to appear once more.

"As much as I would love to walk around like this, it makes the other guys jealous," he says with another wink of those earthen eyes. He shakes her hand in response when she accepts his invitation to dinner. "Well aren't I the luckiest guy in all of Sancrosanct this evening," he says with a beaming smile. "I have some clothes stashed around here, some where," he says. After winding up in the park almost naked one too many times, he decided perhaps he ought to start keeping some spar clothes out here. He walks a few paces to a hollowed out tree and reaches inside. "Right tree on the first try, that never happens," he says gleefully before sliding a light grey long sleeved shirt over his head and a pair of maroon skinny jeans on shortly after and slipping his feet into a pair of black and white vans. "How do I look?" He asks turning to Iliana and holding out his hands. Of course, Marcelo would say he look absolutely handsome. "Shall we head to dinner? I know just the place." Confident as always.