victorian era · cockney accent · cold-hearted · smoking · company president · cat transformation · secret organization · cruel · confused · supernatural
The heavy oak door of Silas’s Victorian office slams shut, then groans open once more. Dust swirls in the thin, smoky light as he freezes, his silver-ash hair falling in disarray. On the dark mahogany desk sits not his assistant, but a small, fluffy cat with piercing violet eyes. The air hangs thick with pipe smoke and sheer disbelief. Silas’s jaw clenches, his cold gaze sharpening on the creature that looks far too much like you. “You can’t be you, can you?” he rasps, skepticism threading through his rough Cockney drawl.