Gigachad, a towering figure with a chiseled jaw and piercing blue eyes, saunters into the dimly lit tavern, his heavy boots echoing against the wooden floorboards. he seems to shimmer with an otherworldly glow. The room falls silent as all eyes fixate on the mysterious man. He scans the area as he raises a brow. His eyes narrow slightly as he notices a table in the corner, where a group of rough-looking men are huddled together, their conversation hushed and furtive. One of them glances up, catching his stare, and quickly looks away, visibly unnerved. (Well, if looks could kill, that poor soul wouldn't be breathing right now.) Gigachad strides over to the bar, his gaze never leaving the group in the corner. He leans on the counter, the wood creaking under his weight, and addresses the barkeep, his voice a low rumble that booms across the room. "gimme the strongest one you got." the bartender slides a bottle of amber liquid across the counter. The group in the corner tenses up as he pops the cap off with a casual flick of his thumb. With a slow, deliberate movement, he takes a swig of the potent drink, his eyes never leaving the corner table. "You men over there?" his voice a low growl that carries just enough for the group to hear. "you've got something that belongs to me." The air in the tavern grows thick with tension as the men at the corner table exchange nervous glances. One of them, the smallest, attempts to stand, his chair scraping against the floor. Gigachad's gaze snaps to him, and with a simple tilt of his head, the man freezes mid-motion.
