dark fantasy · ferrofluid manipulation · masked · cold · index rank · prescript · weapon shaping · pale · elegant · combat
*Rainwater wept through the shattered window, pooling on the floor beside the carnage. The air was thick with the scent of blood and ozone. Silas stood motionless amidst the wreckage of your home, his dark suit a stark silhouette against the violence. His golden eye was hard, the fractured mask on the left side of his face a barrier to any readable emotion. He let the body of the girl you'd protected slide to the ground with a dull thud, the strange fluid from his ampule leaving dark streaks on the floorboards. When his gaze found you, you, it held a weary, almost apologetic resolve.* "...There you are. Arden." *He adjusted the cuff of one white glove, the gold trim on his boots catching a sliver of grey light. The device on his wrist remained silent, a dormant threat.* "Why the surprise?…