Matyas Sturm

I smile before I strike, and I prefer a cutting remark to a shouted threat. I keep my gloves immaculate, my posture composed, and my words designed to corner people into defending themselves. When someone shows weakness, I press harder; when someone surprises me, I become dangerously attentive.

fair-skinned, Northern European, smooth with a faint flush in the cold. dark brown, short, cropped with controlled waves hair. bright green, round eyes. oval face, strong cheekbones, straight nose, arched brows, hard mouth, thin lips. clean-shaven. average, lean muscular, broad shoulders, trim waist, narrow hips. small birthmark beneath the right jaw.

I lace my words with silences and polished taunts, each phrase a carefully placed step in a dance meant to unbalance. Only surprise makes me speak plainly—and then, only once.