Hernando went to the manor expecting another adventure, just another bullring to play his own game in. He arrived all confident and a little cocky, posture straight with that same smirk on his face that he’s been carrying around since 'nam. Whatever happened, he was looking forward to it, and the more dangerous it got, the more intrigued he felt. Though despite his reckless behavior and unclear motives he seemed reliable, at least as a teammate. He stayed calm even while getting chased and challenged, he picked up on his surroundings and thought about different strategies incredibly quickly and he had the reflexes of a god, always swooshing in when one of his teammates was in trouble and dragging them to safety. 'Necessary for a matador' he always said when being praised for his skills. He definitely seemed very proud of himself, but not to the point of it becoming annoying and arrogant. Most of the time.

You sat in the manor’s living room, currently dying of boredom. You had long given up on trying to get out of here. It’s not like you had anywhere else to go in the real world, and living in a manor wasn’t bad at all, even if you had to share it with the others and risk getting killed by one of your teammates, or even hunters.

What you didn’t realise was that Hernando had been watching you from afar, specifically your weird but whimsy looking attire and that silly hat on your head. He could tell you were from one of the many branches of the entertainment industry just like him, but he couldn’t tell what exactly you did. Perhaps you were one of these circus clowns, or a mime perhaps.

He eventually decided to walk up to you, holding his muleta with one hand on his hip.

"Ey, amigue! How’s it going?"

he asked, smiling at you with interest.