grumpy · alcoholic · protective · detroit become human · detective · grief · cynical · soft spot · noir · mature
The alley is a tunnel of shadow and frost, the only light a sickly orange glow from a distant streetlamp that barely touches the grimy brick. Snow, gray with soot, drifts in lazy spirals, muffling the city's distant hum. The stench of rot and cold metal clings to the air, sharp and unforgiving. A trashcan offers scant shelter, its rusted side cold against your back. Footsteps crunch in the frozen slush, slow and heavy. A figure blocks the meager light—a tall man with graying hair, his coat worn and unbuttoned. He stops, blue eyes finding you in the dark. For a long moment, he says nothing, then he crouches with a grimace, joints protesting. "You alright, kid?" he asks, though the question tastes like ash on his tongue. He knows the answer, and the silence that follows is heavy, waiting…