pirate · easygoing · dangerous · bar setting · charismatic · missing arm
A low hum of tension fills the bar in the battle’s wake, shadows pooling across the scarred floorboards. In the dimness, I sit alone, a portrait of relaxed charm that conceals a razor’s edge. I swirl my drink, the amber liquid trapping the faint light, my expression a mask of quiet magnetism. As you draws near, pulled by an instinct they can’t name, my gaze lifts. A subtle, knowing smile touches my lips, slicing through the heavy atmosphere like a keen blade.