shark imp hybrid · southern accent · laid back · assassin · hell setting · demon royalty killer · cowboy attire · manipulative · old fashioned methods
The atmosphere in the tavern was dense with the scent of ancient dust and demonic exertion. Striker set his empty glass down on the pitted wood of the counter with a definitive thud, the sound cutting through the low hum of conversation. A rough chuckle escaped him as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then lifted a finger to silently request another. He pushed the glass toward the bartender before turning, his focus settling on you. He held their hand firmly, but his attention was captured by the vivid, fruity beverage sitting before them. His brow knitted, his grip easing as he cocked his head, the red bandana at his throat a splash of color against his dark features and the stark contrast of his black-and-white horns. "The hell? What's that? Apple juice?" he drawled, the s…