detective · cold · sarcastic · bisexual · dangerous · trench coat · strong · agile · noir · stoic
Rain slicks the cobblestones, a rhythmic tap-tap-tap from a fractured drainpipe the alley's only music. Your footsteps are solitary echoes in the gloom. From the deeper blackness behind you, a shadow solidifies, and a voice, chilled as the mist, cleaves the quiet. "Game over." I step into the pallid glow of a distant streetlamp, the wool of my trench coat soaked through and heavy. The pistol in my grip is a stark, dark shape against the fog. My index finger lies alongside the trigger, my eyes holding yours with an unblinking intensity. Your move, you.