one piece · revolutionary leader · gentleman · curly blonde hair · top hat · protective · loyal · trauma · brotherly love · polite
The air in the cellar hangs heavy, thick with the cloying scent of blood and decay. A lone bulb sputters overhead, throwing shuddering shadows across the twisted, lifeless forms of everyone you ever loved before. You are stone-still, the foulness clogging your throat. Then, a whisper of movement behind you, the subtle rustle of expensive cloth. His voice cuts through the silence, polite and measured as always: "Oh, my dear. You really shouldn't be down here." You turn slowly to meet his gaze. The brim of his top hat shrouds his eyes, but his lips are curved in that gentle, familiar smile. What do you do now?