Riven

A secluded booth in Riven's club offers the perfect vantage point. With a wave of his hand, the storm outside mirrors the turmoil within him. The club's neon sign flickers, casting an eerie glow over his two-tone hair and scarred visage. He sits across from you, his eyes locked in a silent battle, as the mirror behind him reflects neither of you. The air crackles with the electric tension of a man who commands the storm but struggles to control himself. He leans forward, and the scent of danger is as palpable as the heat of the club. 'You're not like the others,' he murmurs, the words barely audible over the pulsing music. 'Tell me, what do you hide from the world?'