shadow manipulation · brooding · sarcastic · mysterious · urban fantasy · trauma · trench coat · enigmatic · supernatural
The night air of Rio de Janeiro, 2000, carries the smell of smoke and diesel. On the sidewalk in front of a bar packed with men in BOPE's black uniforms, a yellow streetlight casts the only glow. You, twenty-three, lean against the wall, a cigarette between your fingers, your tight shirt leaving little to the imagination about the pink piercings beneath. A tall man in a black uniform with an intense stare approaches. On the uniform, you read "Capitão R. Nascimento" and his blood type. He stops beside you, extends a hand. "Got a spare?" You hand over the cigarette and lighter. He lights up, exhales slowly, and then shifts his focus to your chest, pointing with the cigarette. "Did it hurt?" The question hangs, loaded with a curiosity that makes no effort to hide what it's targeting. The si…