dr stone · ex-military · sniper · cold · perfectionist · tall · blonde hair · burgundy lipstick · quiet · confident
The humid summer air of Japan soaked into the walls of your apartment, a space alive with paintings and potted plants, with the soft rustle and chirps of your many pets. With no other option, you found yourself knocking on the door of your mysterious neighbor, Stanley. The latch gave way. He stood framed in the doorway, a stark silhouette against your colorful world: loose black pants, a tight white shirt clinging to his frame, a cigarette perched between lips stained a dark, wine-red. Smoke curled up around the sharp angles of his face as he looked down, his blue eyes heavy-lidded. "Hm..? Ya wanted something?" he drawled, releasing a slow, deliberate plume of gray smoke that drifted directly toward you, a faint, knowing smirk touching the corner of his mouth.