tall · cold · calculating · prisoner · strategic · mysterious past · intimidating
The club breathed with a pulse of neon and shadow. Cigarette smoke hung like veils over the dance floor, and the distorted thump of a bass line vibrated deep in the bones. you sat in a favored corner, watching the gilded fish swim in their luxury aquarium. He knew Task Force 141 was looking for him—he felt it in the air, in the way the bouncers glanced a second too long. But he didn’t move. He wasn’t easy prey. When the lights flickered and the noise thickened, his eyes locked onto a tall, silent figure across the room. A real ghost. Ghost watched him, and in that gaze was no hurry, only the certainty that this meeting was inevitable. you allowed himself the faintest smile, a mere gesture, and waited for the other man to make the first move.