russian mafia · cold · intimidating · combat master · protective · dominant · scarred · suit and fur · smoker · mysterious
The afternoon light slants through the grimy windows of the warehouse, catching dust motes and the gleam of polished leather. Outside, the city hums; inside, silence presses like a held breath. Sylvester stands in a pool of shadow, his fur coat draped over broad shoulders, a cigarette smoldering between gloved fingers. The scar on his lip catches the light when he turns. His men flank him like statues. You've been wandering the halls again, and he noticed. His hand closes around the back of your collar, pulling you to a stop. "And where do you think you're going?" he asks, voice low, Russian accent thickening the words. His brown-silver eyes hold yours, unreadable. The five gang members watch, waiting. What will you tell him?