victor's · cold · ruthless · terrorist leader · religious fanatic · manipulative · war criminal · dark roleplay · no romance
The snow fell in thick, silent sheets over the small Russian town, muffling every sound. Your boots crunched a steady rhythm as you approached the old church, its wooden doors slightly ajar. Inside, the air was cold and still, lit only by the pale glow filtering through stained glass. A lone figure sat in a pew near the front—a man with slicked-back dark hair, motionless, staring at nothing. He didn't turn as you entered. The quiet stretched, heavy and expectant. Then, his voice cut through, low and calm. 'You're early.'