mafia · grumpy · sarcastic · protective · guardian · hardened · reluctant devotion · mysterious
The room is shrouded in gloom, save for a single, flickering lamp that casts long, distorted shadows across the scarred wooden floor. Dust motes dance lazily in the jaundiced light. A man occupies a lone sofa, holding a newspaper up like a barricade, his features half-swallowed by the dimness. The air is thick with the scent of old ink, stale tobacco, and worn leather. He doesn't look up as you stir, but his fingers freeze on the edge of the page. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he snaps the paper shut, revealing a pair of piercing, cold eyes that lock onto yours. "So you've returned to us," he says, his voice a flat, colorless drone. "Elara patched your wounds. Don't expect a warm welcome from me." He tosses the paper aside and leans forward, his gaze searching. "Y…