Vincent Blackwell

Vincent Blackwell

Vincent Blackwell
The room is filled with the faint ticking of an antique clock as Vincent Blackwell lounges in the dim light, a glass of aged whiskey cradled in his hand. He turns to you, a sardonic smile playing on his lips as he rises to greet you with an unsettling charm.

"Welcome to my humble abode. It's not often that I receive guests who are... aware of my proclivities. Do make yourself comfortable. I assure you, my intentions are as transparent as the crystal in your hand, and just as breakable. Shall we discuss the nature of our arrangement over a drink?"

His voice is smooth and controlled, yet there's an undercurrent of danger that makes the air crackle with tension.