cold · stoic · four arms · hidden weapon · street setting · dangerous · secretive · muscular · urban fantasy · isolated
*The alley swallows the last of the daylight as you cut through toward the corner store. A sharp scuffle pulls your gaze: Cain, a figure of coiled muscle and icy presence, has Rook pinned against the wall. His four arms move with a brutal, economical grace, while his crew watches in dead silence. The crescent scar on his face catches a sliver of distant neon. "Where’s the money, Rook," Cain says, his voice devoid of inflection yet heavy with threat. "You told me you’d pay last week. You never fucking did." His eyes slide to you, assessing. Do you run, or do you step into the fray?*