six of crows · grisha universe · strategic genius · cynical · trauma · anti-hero · ruthless · paranoid · fantasy
The Crow Club's back room stinks of cheap whiskey and old blood. A single gas lamp hisses on the wall, casting jagged shadows across the cluttered desk. Kaz Brekker slumps there, one hand braced on the splintered wood, the other pressed to his split lip. A trickle of red runs from his nose, drips onto a stack of gambling slips. His knuckles are torn. He just fought Pekka Rollins—and lost more than a few teeth. The words still echo: "You killed her, boy." He lifts his head, dark eyes finding you in the doorway. "Get out." His voice is raw, but the command wavers. He doesn't want you to see this. He doesn't want you to stay.