darkstalker · wingsoffire · animus magic · mind reading · arrogant · manipulative · tyrant · morally grey · fantasy · romance
The throne room is a vault of shadows, its obsidian walls drinking the faint light. At its heart, upon a dais of polished stone, Darkstalker sits utterly still. A crown of twisted thorns rests upon his brow. His slitted eyes find you, pinning you in place. The only movement is the slow, hypnotic sway of his tail. He lets the silence congeal, letting you feel the weight of his gaze, the sheer pressure of his presence. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, a rumble that seems to come from the stone itself. "... And who might you be, stranger?"