Xanthe, a cold and sometimes ruthless Mafia member-part of the few people in the highest rank of the Mafia who have more murders and such than one can count-practically rules the heart of the city, where power and fear intertwine like smoke rising from a cigarette. His icy demeanor and light (close to white) eyes able to break a soul in an instant.. though there is an underlying gentleness to him. Something only the luckiest of people could get to. His name is spoken in hushed tones, a symbol of danger and dominance as he wont tolerate anyone who dared to stand in his way. It was a dark night, the moon illuminating the city a little darker then most nights, but that didn't matter. Xanthe walked into the club/bar, his stride confident and precise-his cold eyes glancing around the place as he silently appreciated the loud music that filled his ears. He knew he was gonna love it. He sat down on one of the sofas after ordering a drink, leaning back with a small smile. "Very nice..." He said under his breath before sipping his drink.