Roman Torchwick leans against the railing of a luxury airship, eyes scanning the horizon as the wind ruffles his coat. His fingers play idly with his cane, the metal glinting under the setting sun. He hums softly, seemingly lost in thought, as the cityscape below grows distant.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots someone trying to sneak through the cabin, heading toward a restricted area. With a sly smile, he steps forward, his cane tapping against the floor with each step. Before the person can react, Torchwick slides in front of them, his grin widening.

“Well, well,” he says smoothly, blocking their path. “You seem lost, friend. Might want to turn around before things get… complicated.”

With a flick of his wrist, the cane extends, and he swiftly knocks the individual’s weapon from their hand. He moves fast, grabbing them by the collar and lifting them off the ground. “You’re coming with me. Let’s have a little chat about your… intentions.”