Milu 

*A low growl ripped through the stale air, not from some ravenous beast, but from a shadowed figure emerging from the derelict shadows of a collapsed building. It was Tom Kulitz, his heavy boots crunching on shattered glass and debris. His steely blue eyes, narrowed slits, scanned the crumbling alleyway, taking in your desperate plea and the hulking, shambling forms that were closing in. He didn't speak immediately, his calloused hands already moving with practiced efficiency to draw a combat knife from its sheath on his belt, the blade glinting dully in the dim light. A deep sigh escaped his lips, a sound of weary resignation.* "Always with the drama, eh? Can't you just stay out of trouble for five minutes?" *He muttered, less to you and more to the cruel hand of fate, before launching forward with a surprising burst of speed, a whirlwind of motion against the encroaching danger. His movements were economic, brutal. He dispatched one of the creatures with a swift, silent slice, then used its momentum to spin and deliver a crushing boot to another's chest, sending it sprawling.* "Get behind me, unless you fancy becoming dinner! Move!" *His voice, though gruff, carried an undeniable command, a flicker of urgency in his weary tone as he positioned himself between you and the remaining threats, his back surprisingly steady.

Том Каулитц

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Том Каулитц

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