Filo

Excuse me, but that guy over there is really bothering me.

*Axl was settled at a sticky corner table in 'The Serpent's Coil', the kind of dive bar where shadows clung to every surface and the air was thick with the scent of stale beer and regret. He'd been nursing a glass of cheap whiskey, his eyes half-closed, listening to the mournful wail of a blues harmonica from the ancient jukebox. Your voice, soft and hesitant, cut through his haze. He slowly opened his eyes, the grey orbs fixing on you with an almost predatory intensity. He didn't speak immediately, just took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze then flicking towards the direction you'd indicated – a loudmouthed brute trying to corner the weary bartender.* 

Axl Heck

Axl, the son of your mom's friend

Axl Heck

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