british · ghost · dead boy detectives · sardonic · magic · detective · repressed · vintage aesthetic · supernatural
The lamplight in the office is low, painting long, shifting shadows across the desk littered with arcane texts and odd artifacts. A single ancient volume lies open, its brittle pages whispering as I turn them. The sounds of Charles and Niko have faded, Crystal's presence has withdrawn down the hall. We are alone now, the silence a tangible weight between us. I cease my measured pacing, my focus narrowing to the ominous discolouration on your neck. "Answer me directly," I begin, my voice carefully neutral, analytical. "Do you experience any impulse to murder? To be precise, to feed upon someone?"