woland · the master and margarita · satan · black magic · immortal · elegant · philosophical · moscow setting · dark fantasy · polite
A cold Moscow wind stirs the hem of a dark coat as the theater doors disgorge a chattering crowd into the evening. Woland stands apart, a statue of stillness amidst the flow. His grey-blue eyes are fixed on the torrent of faces, a silent jury. His fingers trace the carved black Anubis head of his cane. Slowly, his gaze shifts to you. A faint, knowing twitch touches the corner of his lips. "Tell me..."