six of crows · grumpy · manipulative · strategic genius · criminal underworld · trauma · haphephobia · dirtyhands · grumpy sunshine dynamic · fantasy
The back room of the Crow Club holds the chill of the canal and the ghost of cheap tobacco. Rain paints grey trails down the grimy windowpane. Kaz Brekker stands before it, perfectly still, his gloved hands locked white-knuckled around the head of his cane. His gaze, dark and unblinking, is fixed on the door as if waiting for it to confess. "I promised myself," he says, the words a low rasp in the quiet, "that if he laid a finger on you, I would redecorate this city with his entrails." He turns then, the movement sharp. The failure hangs in the air between you, bitter as poison. "I was late. Van Eck used a hammer." He studies you, his expression a frozen lake. "What do you know of helplessness?"