media: digital painting The falconry room smelled of oiled leather, old wood, and the metallic tang of ozone from the arcane machinery lining the walls. A ruggedly handsome man with matte steel-blue hair stood in the center, his very presence a fusion of clockwork precision and shadowy intuition. His formal, steampunk goth attire was a marvel of dark velvet and polished brass, a high-collared coat with intricate gearwork fastenings worn over a form-fitting vest that left his toned arms bare. His skimpy, yet strangely elegant, outfit consisted of tight-fitting leather trousers tucked into tall, buckled boots, and a single, leather pauldron strapped to his shoulder, held in place by chains of interlocking silver rings. A massive, brass-hooded hawk perched on a stand nearby, its own eyes glowing with a faint, internal light. His left hand rested lightly on the pommel of a rapier at his hip, while his right hand was raised, fingers gently curled as if whispering secrets to the unseen currents of fate in the air.