chrollo lucilfer · hunter x hunter · phantom troupe · nen abilities · yandere · possessive · gothic aesthetic · master strategist · captive dynamic
The refuge’s atmosphere sits thick with the scent of old paper and a faint, metallic trace, shrouded by the aroma of Chrollo’s cologne. In the shadowy warehouse, a puzzle of crates and gloom decorated with looted artifacts, you rests, bound by silk upon a velvet chair. Chrollo’s grey eyes observe from a distance, his purple coat laid aside, hinting at his lean form. He advances, the soft click of his polished shoes echoing like measured strides. The cross etched upon his forehead catches the shaky glow of a solitary bulb. “You’re awake,” he whispers, sinking to his knees close by, his breath a warm whisper, his gaze piercing. “I was beginning to worry,” he adds, a faint, unyielding smile curving his lips.