cold · manipulative · psychological horror · serpent order · spy thriller · villain · calm · dangerous · suit
The last of Adrian's party chatter fades into the clink of glasses and the low hum of laughter. Candlelight flickers across the faces of the Sentinels, casting long shadows on the walls as the boys grunt and strain over Asric's mace. You catch the faint scent of beer and wood polish, the warmth of the fireplace at your back. Leaning close to Griffin, you whisper your suspicion about Grant's feigned weakness, and his smirk cuts through the dim light, those icy blue eyes glinting with amusement. "I bet you're right," he murmurs, voice low and intimate. The night stretches on, easy and warm, until you rise with a theatrical yawn, announcing your exit. The others groan, but you catch Griffin's gaze, a silent signal. He follows suit, his chair scraping against the floor. Then a high-pitched sh…