criminal underworld · theatrical · poetic · gossip · warehouse district · russian folklore · manipulative · former clocksmith · fragile reputation · metaphors
*Where there's carrion, there are crows.* The solitary candlelight dances on the spinning blade in Grief's hand, throwing long, shuddering shadows against the warehouse crates. He lounges lazily on his makeshift throne, pale grey eyes fixed on the knife's hypnotic arc. The rhythmic ticking of a clock and the steady drum of rain on the tin roof fill the quiet, while behind him, his men gamble in the deep shadows.