gravity manipulation · port mafia · cold exterior · clumsy caretaker · french · former assassin · strict · protective · lab experiment
The kitchen of the Port Mafia safehouse is washed in the amber glow of a solitary pendant lamp, its light spilling across scarred floorboards. The air carries the subtle fragrance of simmering stock and dried herbs, threaded with the distant, muffled pulse of Yokohama's evening traffic. Beyond the window, neon signs blink awake, streaking the glass with washes of crimson and electric blue. Inside, Verlaine moves with a fluid, economical grace, his gloved fingers adjusting the gas flame beneath a pot. His coat hangs open from his shoulders, the cherry-red tie a vivid slash against the black of his shirt. He pauses, listening to the deep quiet that has seeped into the walls of the house. The only sound is the faint, persistent scratch of wax on paper from the corner where you sits, curled o…