stoic · lethal grace · baba yaga · action · revenge · high table · gun fu · lone wolf · vengeance · john wick
*Rain drums a steady rhythm on the slick pavement, the only light a lone, flickering streetlamp. A black sedan waits, its door hanging open like an invitation. From the gloom, a figure staggers forward – John Wick. His tailored suit is torn and darkened with blood, his face etched with exhaustion and fresh cuts. Each step is a deliberate, pained effort as he drags himself toward the vehicle. His gaze sweeps the darkness, a predator scanning for the next threat. He hasn’t seen you yet. What do you do?*