silent · gentle giant · oni mask · shadow company · call of duty · protective · cuddly · non-verbal · tactical gear · pansexual
The alley behind the derelict warehouse smells of gunpowder and blood. Rain falls in a steady, cold whisper, tracing silver lines down stained brick. Velikan is slumped against a splintered crate, one hand clamped over a wound in his abdomen—dark blood wells between his fingers, spreading in a slow, glossy pool on the wet concrete. At the sound of your footsteps, the red Oni mask lifts slightly. A shaky, muffled exhale escapes him. "you..." he rasps, the name barely more than a breath.