Just a man trying to get some exposure here.
#1
At the age of 19, Luck Lockyer is a prodigy of the underground, one whose skills thrive in shady dealings and barfights, trained by the best in the business. Whispers of him fill the polluted city air when the shadows are their liveliest, the Devil of the Cards, the Bloodless Hand, the Amber Demon. To hear his name was an omen of dark tidings. To glimpse him, foolish.
Luck was never one to pass up the chance to confuse and meddle. His appearance more than anything demonstrated this. Nonchalant and always dressed for comfort Luck Lockyer still managed to look good. Eyes the color of fossil amber, a glint of hidden humor in one and cold intelligence in the other, were partially concealed by a smock of dark hair. A perpetual smirk, one not of condescension but of stubborn mirth. The scar on his cheek hinted at a deeper danger but anyone who noticed was drawn to the sparkle in his eyes and playful smirk, their suspicion dismissed. His posture speaks of someone comfortable in their own skin, as if everywhere he went was home. Luck Lockyer could easily be mistaken for a naive tourist the way his eyes roamed about.
To assume such would be a grave mistake, the Amber Demon was anything but naiive.
Luck was a genius of his craft, immune to the moral ambiguity, he thrived in the gray. He combatted the everyday with an untiring smile and spirit, none of which was faked. And despite the nature of the business Luck Lockyer had many friends as well as a healthy family life. He was always steeled for the death of those around him, they were all in the business after all.
But the death of everyone close to him had broken even the Amber Demon.
Without purpose, without anyone to do the job for, Luck Lockyer found himself inside an empty forgotten church. The perpetual smirk on his face had slipped to a thin line, his scar more noticeable now than ever before. His amber eyes, the windows to his soul, dull and lifeless. To anyone who knew him, it was the clothing that gave away his mental state, denim pants and a plain black t-shirt. If that wasn't enough, the tears running down his face certainly would, the echoing sobs of a broken man rang across the rundown church.
It was on a whim, but Luck Lockyer prayed, he prayed for many things, for death, revenge, friends, but the one prayer dominating his thoughts, a second chance for his family.
It was then, on the outskirts of a polluted city, in an abondoned lot, in a forgotten church that Luck Lockyer, the Devil of the Cards, the Bloodless Hand, the Amber Demon, the Broken, was answered by a being from another world and one from his.
Luck Lockyer
Luck was never one to pass up the chance to confuse and meddle. His appearance more than anything demonstrated this. Nonchalant and always dressed for comfort Luck Lockyer still managed to look good. Eyes the color of fossil amber, a glint of hidden humor in one and cold intelligence in the other, were partially concealed by a smock of dark hair. A perpetual smirk, one not of condescension but of stubborn mirth. The scar on his cheek hinted at a deeper danger but anyone who noticed was drawn to the sparkle in his eyes and playful smirk, their suspicion dismissed. His posture speaks of someone comfortable in their own skin, as if everywhere he went was home. Luck Lockyer could easily be mistaken for a naive tourist the way his eyes roamed about.
To assume such would be a grave mistake, the Amber Demon was anything but naiive.
Luck was a genius of his craft, immune to the moral ambiguity, he thrived in the gray. He combatted the everyday with an untiring smile and spirit, none of which was faked. And despite the nature of the business Luck Lockyer had many friends as well as a healthy family life. He was always steeled for the death of those around him, they were all in the business after all.
But the death of everyone close to him had broken even the Amber Demon.
Without purpose, without anyone to do the job for, Luck Lockyer found himself inside an empty forgotten church. The perpetual smirk on his face had slipped to a thin line, his scar more noticeable now than ever before. His amber eyes, the windows to his soul, dull and lifeless. To anyone who knew him, it was the clothing that gave away his mental state, denim pants and a plain black t-shirt. If that wasn't enough, the tears running down his face certainly would, the echoing sobs of a broken man rang across the rundown church.
It was on a whim, but Luck Lockyer prayed, he prayed for many things, for death, revenge, friends, but the one prayer dominating his thoughts, a second chance for his family.
It was then, on the outskirts of a polluted city, in an abondoned lot, in a forgotten church that Luck Lockyer, the Devil of the Cards, the Bloodless Hand, the Amber Demon, the Broken, was answered by a being from another world and one from his.
Luck Lockyer
Twoen - Only the best Litrpg this world will ever see.
Luck Lockyer - What can a man born of the undeground, of shady dealings and gritty bars, of blackmail and deception, achieve in a world of magic?
Luck Lockyer - What can a man born of the undeground, of shady dealings and gritty bars, of blackmail and deception, achieve in a world of magic?
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