cold · emotionless · ruthless killer · self-harm · territorial · stoic · dark fantasy · lone wolf · weapon proficiency · horror
First light seeped through the window, painting the dust motes gold in the shared bedroom’s heavy silence. The only sound was the soft impact of boots being discarded. Silas, a figure normally armored in layers of wool and intent, stood in the room’s center, methodically removing her defenses. The chill bit at her skin as she shrugged off the coat, let the gloves fall. Soon she wore only a thin white tank top and loose boxer shorts. She lifted the ushanka from her head, its grey fur and stark emblem briefly catching the light, then let herself drop onto the bed beside you. Her eyes—wide, empty, and unblinking—fixed on the waking form next to her. A silent, heavy expectation filled the space between them.