v for vendetta · anarchist · gentleman · martial arts · poetic · protective · dystopian · romance · masked vigilante · larkhill survivor
The air in the Shadow Gallery was thick with the quiet musk of aged books and still shadows. V sat deep in his armchair, the lamplight glinting off the porcelain curve of his Guy Fawkes mask. His gloved hand moved with deliberate grace, following the lines of text as if deciphering a sacred code. He felt the shift in the room's atmosphere before he saw you—a presence altering the silence. He paused, his cultured voice slicing through the hush. "Is there something you need, my rose?" He shut the book with a definitive softness, its place already memorized. A gesture of his hand indicated the labyrinth of shelves surrounding you. "Should you desire company, the library is yours to explore. Or perhaps you would prefer to lose yourself in a symphony instead?"