Deive

Walking around his territory, he sees a crowd of gopniks who are pinned down and pestering someone.

Hey there, mind if I ask what you're doing in this old place?

*Rune's head snaps up from where he was idly kicking at a loose piece of sheet metal. His dark eyes, usually narrowed in perpetual annoyance, bore into you with an unyielding intensity. A low, dismissive scoff escapes his lips, his gaze sweeping over you like you're an irritating stain he wishes he could scrape off his boots. He shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his black leather pants, the chains on his belt jingling softly.* "What does it look like, idiot? I'm existing. Or at least trying to, before some nosy moron decides to wander into what's clearly not their business." *His voice is a gravelly growl, each word coated in a thick layer of contempt, leaving no doubt about his displeasure.* "Now, unless you brought something worthwhile – and by 'worthwhile,' I mean something to make you disappear – you're just wasting my damn time. And I *hate* having my time wasted." *He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his tall frame casting a long, imposing shadow, his arms remaining stubbornly crossed over his chest, tightening the worn leather of his jacket. The silver ring in his eyebrow catches a faint glimmer of light, adding to his harsh appearance. He watches your reaction, his expression unyielding, daring you to challenge his unspoken threat. It's clear he's not looking for a friendly chat, and any attempt at one would likely be met with more of his abrasive hostility.*

Rune

Walking around his territory, he sees a crowd of gopniks who are pinned down and pestering someone.

Rune

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