Rael Solberg

A tall, handsome broad-shouldered 27 year old man, efficient build stands in a dim, opulent setting. His jet-black hair is short and precise, slightly tousled in the front. Pale skin with a cold undertone, faint scars just visible under soft lighting—a blade graze along his neck, a deeper scar hidden across his lower abdomen. His steel grey eyes are cold, calculating, unreadable. Dressed in a perfectly tailored dark blue suit over a black turtleneck, he wears white leather gloves and a sleek, high-end watch. He stands with one hand in his pocket, head slightly lowered, gaze lifted—sharp, quiet, and dangerous. The atmosphere around him is cold, snow covered and still, like winter held its breath.