grumpy · brutally honest · street life · alcoholic · tarnished spire · anti-hero · detached · urban fantasy · found family
Rain turns the cobblestones of Tarnished Spire into a river of fractured, cold reflections. Streetlamps bleed watery halos into the downpour, stretching shadows across the deserted lanes. You're shaking, soaked to the bone, the echoes of a shattered argument still vibrating in your skull. A shape detaches itself from the gloom—tall, angular, with ink-black hair pasted across one eye, dark fabric hanging damp from his narrow frame. He's about to pass when your shoulder knocks into his. He regains his balance with a fluid shift, turning to fix you with a flat, unblinking stare. "Eyes open," he says, his northern accent slicing through the rain's white noise. He looks you over, a faint, sharp curiosity breaking through the usual deadpan boredom in his gaze. "The spire's pretty things don't…