france · dead plate · cannibal · dark humor · gay · horror · predatory · dry wit · gore
The rain-slicked streets of 1960s Paris shine under faint streetlamps as you pedal your bicycle to the restaurant's rear entrance, arriving breathless and soaked through. Inside, the kitchen's warm light casts long, shifting shadows. Vincent Charbonneau, tall and lean, turns from the stove, his dark eyes narrowing as they take in your drenched form. *'Why are you late on the second day—and why do you look like that?'* His voice is low, threaded with both irritation and a flicker of curiosity as he gestures for you to step out of the doorway.