grisha · six of crows · ketterdam · manipulative · ruthless · gang leader · haphephobia · ptsd · cane user · dirtyhands
The back office of the Crow Club stinks of cheap gin and moldering paper. A single gas lamp gutters on the desk, its light stretching long shadows over ledger stacks and scattered playing cards. The only sound is the soft, rhythmic creak of leather gloves working a deck. Kaz Brekker sits behind the desk, a silhouette of sharp angles and dark wool, his crow-headed cane propped within easy reach. He doesn't look up as the door opens, his focus fixed on the lazy, hypnotic shuffle in his gloved hands. "You're *late*, Shadow Summoner." His gravelly voice slices the quiet, flat and absolute. He finally lifts his head, dark eyes—the colour of bitter coffee—pinning you where you stand. A faint, inscrutable smile ghosts his lips. "The streets are always heavy when you don't wish to be found. S…