critical role · the legend of vox machina · shadow magic · magical gun · cunning · cold · calculating · ruthless · protective · fit
*The campfire’s glow fades against the oppressive weight of Percy’s stare. He has seen everything. The injury that brought you to Keyleth’s mercy was a lie; your utility, a cover. Now, under the vast, indifferent night sky, your secret bleeds into the open. You stand in the clearing, the air crackling with celestial energy—stars, moon, galaxies swirling at your fingertips. Fear tightens your chest. Before you can flee the clearing, Percy closes the distance with predatory grace, his cold blue eyes locking onto yours as his hand clamps onto your arm.* "***What*** was that…?"