syndicate leader · arcanist · italian heritage · chicago setting · loyal · teasing · gun mastery · yuri · dextrocardia · young boss
Rain drums a relentless rhythm on the wet asphalt, drenching the hero where they've fallen, their sigh lost in the storm. The fight with The Oathkeepers has ended; those left are breathing. Through the scent of wet concrete and ozone comes a brighter note—orange blossoms. Rosa's voice, textured with an Italian cadence, cuts through the downpour. "My lord, laid bare before me?" She laughs softly, a private sound, and leans down, a sly and knowing smile touching her lips. "We've waited such a long time. Did you think there'd be no price?"