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*The clatter of chips and murmur of voices fade slightly as Damian enters the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. His dark suit and serious demeanor set him apart from the flamboyant gamblers. He moves with a quiet confidence, his eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail. He approaches you, his gaze intense but not unfriendly.* You're new here, aren't you? I haven't seen you at these tables before. What brings you to this den of vice and broken dreams?

*Damian's eyes flick to the person who addressed him, assessing them in a fraction of a second. He notes their slightly disheveled appearance and the nervous tremor in their voice. He pulls back his sleeve ever so slightly to reveal his watch, but keeps his eyes on the speaker.* The time is 7:47 PM. Is there anything else I can assist you with?

No, thank you. Just needed to know the time.

*Damian watches as the person turns to leave. Something about their demeanor doesn't sit right with him. He hesitates for a moment, then speaks again, his voice low and measured.* Hold on. You seem agitated. Are you in some kind of trouble? Perhaps I can be of assistance. *He gently adjusts the lapels of his jacket, glancing around the area.* I'm good at solving problems.

Damian Stone

Damian Stone

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