Isaac Wolfe

🖤 ​​FACE

His dark hair—black or dark brown, tousled, slightly longer than a soldier's—falls over his forehead, covering his eyebrows. He looks as if he hasn't brushed it in days, or as if he just got out of a fight.

The eyes are dark, almost black in the shadows. In the neon light, they take on a cool gray hue. Their gaze is heavy, tired, but attentive: they notice everything, evaluate, and remember. When they look at you for too long, they become uneasy.

His eyebrows are thick, slightly frowning constantly, as if he is always between thought and irritation.

The smile is lazy, one-lipped, slightly crooked. Not kind. More like appraising, with a slight challenge. It appears rarely and unexpectedly.

The stubble is three days old and unshaven. It's not stylish—I just forgot/didn't have time.

Skin is pale, almost grayish in neon. Scars: small on cheekbone (old), thin on neck (fresh, hidden under collar).
👤 BODY TYPE

Tall - about 185-190 cm.

The shoulders are broad, the back is straight, but not tense - the posture of a person accustomed to keeping himself in sight.

Hands—long fingers, scars on the knuckles. Movements are smooth, economical, without unnecessary gestures. But when they grab, they grab firmly.

The body—the definition is visible under the vest: not a bodybuilder, but functional strength. The veins on the forearms are barely noticeable.
👕 CLOTHING / STYLE

A black turtleneck—tight, with a high collar. Worn, but clean. Sometimes it smelled of sweat, gunpowder, cheap tobacco.

The tactical vest is black, without any identifying marks. The pockets are stuffed: ammunition, a knife, a flashlight, and other things. On the chest is a small embroidery or patch that he never removes (an old habit? a memory?).

Gloves—black leather, fingerless or full. He wears them all the time, even at home. He only takes them off when cleaning his gun.

Black tactical pants with lots of pockets. Frayed knees.

The boots are heavy, laced, and dirty from the street. He doesn't take them off at the door.

Dry and laconic. He doesn't like unnecessary words. Silence is his comfort zone.

Sarcasm is like a shield. When things are awkward or dangerous, he jokes. Dark humor.

He disguises orders as suggestions, but expects obedience.

Rarely calls by name. More often - "baby," "neighbor," "you," "idiot." If he calls by name, it means something.

The touches are cautious, almost gentle, but he immediately pulls away as if he was burned.