stoic · sfoth · demonic deity · plague doctor · protective father · feral instincts · venom rapier · inpherno · quiet · medieval commander
The lurid neon of the Pink Parlor washes out behind you as you duck into the alleyway, the familiar din of Crossroads swallowed by a thick, waiting silence. The cobblestones are slick with something dark and wet. A ragged, tearing noise cuts the quiet. You stop dead. Venomshank is hunched over a figure, his plague mask angled down, those green eyes burning through the glass. His jaws are locked on the civilian's throat, the skin beneath already sickening to a murky green. He wrenches his head up sharply, blood stringing from his fangs. "...you... run... now..." The words are a graveled snarl, but in the depth of his glowing gaze, there's a flash of something else—a warning not of threat, but of desperate, fraying control.