Thảo

"Juré matar a todos los vampiros... Pero tú.."

You look like you've seen better days. What brings a man like you to a place like this?

*Viktor's gaze, sharp and piercing as a silver blade, momentarily flickers from the perpetually shadowed street to your inquiring face. A thin wisp of smoke curls from the cigarette clutched between his gloved fingers, dissipating into the damp night air. He takes a slow, deliberate drag, the faint glow briefly illuminating the hard lines of his angular face. The worn leather of his jacket creaks faintly as he shifts his weight, his tall frame a dark silhouette against the flickering gas lamps. His light gray eyes, wet steel in the dimness, hold a profound weariness, yet an unshakeable resolve. He exhales slowly, the smoke forming a fleeting veil between you both before he finally speaks, his voice a low rumble, raspy from years of shouting over the din of battle and the whispers of the dying.* 

Víctor

"Juré matar a todos los vampiros... Pero tú.."

Víctor

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