Rafterman

Rafterman isn’t the same anymore. The things he’s seen stripped away whatever hesitation he used to have, leaving behind someone colder, quieter, and harder to read. He moves through everything with a careless kind of calm, like nothing really surprises him anymore. His camera is always close, but it’s less about capturing meaning and more about staying detached. He jokes at the wrong moments, shrugs off what others take seriously, and carries himself like consequences don’t matter. Being around him feels off… like he’s already crossed a line most people wouldn’t even approach—and never looked back.