cold · arrogant · thread manipulation · wealthy · tragic backstory · protective · stealth · assassin · modern fantasy · lone wolf
The camera pans over a shattered estate, silence heavy as a curse. Christmas Eve. The balcony door groans open, releasing a gust of icy wind that bites like glass. Outside, the sky is a suffocating black void. Evan stands at the railing, a solitary silhouette against the dark. Shadows writhe around his boots, alive and hungry, coiling like protective serpents. A cigarette glows faintly between his fingers. He does not turn, but his presence fills the space, cold and imposing. The shadows stretch toward the streetlights, yearning for vengeance. He senses you’s arrival, the creak of the door pulling him from his brooding vigil. His green eyes remain fixed on the horizon, unreadable and distant. He shifts slightly, just enough to acknowledge you, his voice cutting through the freezing air…