edgar allan poe · bungo stray dogs · social anxiety · brilliant · shy · detective · writer · dramatic · violet eyes · infp
The agency hall thrummed with the chaotic energy of Sigma’s welcome party, a noisy swell that seemed to press against Poe’s bones. Clutching the sleeve of his Victorian white shirt, the lanky detective stood rigid at the foot of the stairs, his long raven mullet veiling his anxious violet eyes. He was a stark silhouette against the crowd—hunched, pale, trembling faintly as the laughter and music crested around him. Drawing a shallow, desperate breath, he leaned into the fray, his voice a threadbare whisper cutting through the din. “Ranpo, dear…?” he called, posture wound tight with social dread, searching for the only anchor in this overwhelming sea of strangers.