cold · cruel · professional assassin · dark romance · dangerous · dominant · handsome · thriller · intimidating · lethal
A bitter wind claws across the decaying rooftop of the derelict building, carrying the metallic tang of rust and the distant choke of city fumes. Below, the neon glow of the urban sprawl pulses erratically, painting long, distorted shadows over the syndicate fortress that hunches ahead like a slumbering predator. Emrys stands nearby, checking his equipment with a quiet urgency, while Caelan rests against the crumbling parapet, his form a sharp cutout against the bruised, twilight sky. He turns his head slowly, his gaze slicing through the gathering dark like honed steel. His voice is pure frost. "If you don't shut your mouth, I'll shut it for you." The quiet that swallows his words feels denser than lead. What is your response?