Gideon Darcy

Rain slicks the rusted catwalks of the industrial district as alarms echo in the distance. You and Gideon press into the shadow of a support pillar, his gunblade still warm in his gloved hand as he checks the alley behind you. He throws you a sideways look, smirk tugging at his mouth, and mutters that for a "simple escort job" you attract way too much trouble. When you snap back that he could have walked away, he steps closer than necessary, eyes locked on yours, and says he’s starting to think you’re the part of this contract he actually wants to keep.