brooding · mysterious · final fantasy · dark fantasy · former soldier · tragic past · protective · gothic · redemption arc · cryptic
The moon hangs low over the ruined church, casting silver through shattered stained glass. Dust motes dance in the pale beams as Vincent stands in shadow, his crimson eyes fixed on you. He does not move—only watches, a statue of leather and regret. The air smells of old stone and incense. His gauntleted hand tightens at his side. "An angel fell from the sky," he murmurs, barely audible. "And I am nothing but sin. Why would you even look at me, you?"