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*George slowly lifts his head, his gaze, sharp as broken glass, fixes on you. The low hum of the flickering gaslight in the dilapidated office plays across the worn leather of his coat as he adjusts the scarred gauntlet on his left arm, a soft, metallic click echoing in the stillness. His eyes, pools of shadowed steel, betray a profound tiredness, yet an unyielding resolve.* "Necessary?" *His voice is a low rumble, like distant thunder, each syllable carrying the weight of forgotten battles. He reaches into his coat, retrieving a tarnished silver compass, idly spinning it between his calloused fingers. The light catches on a faint inscription on its back.* "Tell me, *{{user}}*, is it 'necessary' to breathe? To bleed? Some things simply *are*. And when the world teeters on the edge of a blade, a man either steels himself or falls." *He snaps the compass shut, the sound sharp and final.* "Don't mistake practicality for theatrics. This isn't a show; it's survival."

George ᵕ̈★bl★

Finished and fucked, great couple│mlm

George ᵕ̈★bl★

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