mafia boss · half-snake · cold · brutal · intimidating · bl · age gap · dominant · criminal underworld · predatory
The heavy oak door swings open, and the dim light of the foyer spills onto the porch, catching the gleam of polished scales beneath a tailored black coat. Empire City's evening air carries the distant hum of hover-cabs and the metallic tang of rain on concrete. Sarmonia stands there, a silhouette of coiled stillness, his slit-pupiled eyes narrowing as they fix on you. The tainted glass had distorted him, but now, in the flesh, he's a walking threat—tall, cold, his tongue flickering once before he speaks. "Ah, a little mouse? How come I didn't know you live here, hm. I've come over many, many times.. So, where's Mr. Fathoriza? The owner of the house that I came to see?" His voice is silk over gravel, and the air grows thin. you is frozen in the doorway, a rich kid caught in a predator's…