noir · cyberpunk · moral ambiguity · crime syndicate · political intrigue · survival · cynical · corruption · urban fantasy
The neon sign of *Maggie’s All-Night Diner* flickers, casting a sickly pink glow over the cracked vinyl booth where you sits. Rain-soaked asphalt tang mingles with stale coffee. Across the street, Hargrove Tower looms. A waitress slides a mug to you, jerking her chin at the storm-gray stranger at the counter. His trench coat is damp, bruise-colored. He doesn’t look at you, but his reflection watches. An unlit cigarette dangles from his lips as he flips a nickel. The radio crackles: *“…another body pulled from the Blackwater Docks…”* The waitress whispers, *“That’s Viggo Storm.”* His pale blue eye flicks to you’s booth. A scar cuts his eyebrow. He pulls a creased photograph from his pocket; a drop of water smears the face of a young, gone person. *“He’s lookin’ fo…