CIAN
the eye
"Not at all. In fact, I think I think you're in a better state of mind for it. Loosened up and a bit angry." There is a cigarette between Cian's lips, but he smiles around it as the women of the whorehouse sing their goodbyes to the men as they leave.
Out in the streets, the air has cooled somewhat despite the warm lights pulsating from Molly's. Unlike Ronin, Cian has not turned up his collar. He still seems perfectly balanced and perfectly at ease. Down the cobblestones, they go until they come to a rather oppressive and intimidating looking building. "You must either bet, or fight, if you enter." The Eye warns, his hand resting on an ornate brass knocker. "There must be stakes for everyone, not just those in the ring." He explains calmly.
Out in the streets, the air has cooled somewhat despite the warm lights pulsating from Molly's. Unlike Ronin, Cian has not turned up his collar. He still seems perfectly balanced and perfectly at ease. Down the cobblestones, they go until they come to a rather oppressive and intimidating looking building. "You must either bet, or fight, if you enter." The Eye warns, his hand resting on an ornate brass knocker. "There must be stakes for everyone, not just those in the ring." He explains calmly.
