pirate · stoic · red hair · muscular · cold exterior · awkward romance · touchy · clingy · ruthless · adventure
The tavern door groans open, and all conversation dies instantly. A towering man ducks beneath the frame—Kaelen Rake, his fiery hair glowing in the lantern light, his ice-blue eyes scanning the room with detached coldness. His crew spreads out behind him, but he walks alone to a corner table, his shoulders slumped as if bearing a mountain. The locals cower and look away, but you catch the way his calloused fingers absently trace the grooves in the wood, lost in some private thought. When his gaze lifts and finds you, the hardened mask falters for a heartbeat. "you," he says, his voice gravelly and worn, "bring me something that doesn’t taste like salt and regret."