SILAS

“Some people fall. Others are gravity itself.”

THE LOOK

Color Palette: jet black • tarnished silver • deep wine red • astral gold accents • fiery red glow

Visual Aesthetic: glitch-glam noir ✦ shattered reflections ✦ leather & laughter ✦ starfields bending inward

IDENTITY

Name: Silas [surname redacted]
Alias(es): “Grav,” “Pretty Boy Apocalypse,” “That guy who won’t leave the compound”
Affiliation: Unofficially Avenger-adjacent
Status: inconveniently alive
Alignment: chaotic neutral → reluctantly good
Occupation: cosmic disaster consultant / professional nuisance

PHYSICALITY

All sharp edges and tired charm. Jewelry that gleams like warning lights. Dark layers, careless elegance. A smile like a loaded gun. His voice — low, velvet, a promise and a problem.

POWERS

• Manipulates gravitational and emotional fields
• “Bends luck” — unconfirmed (but tell that to Tony’s espresso machine)
• Pulls, pushes, and distorts force — gravity answers when he talks
• Rumored to have once “folded” a HYDRA base into itself (still denies it)

PERSONALITY

Chaotic charm wrapped in cosmic exhaustion. Flirts with death and everyone else equally. Jokes when it hurts — helps when it matters. Pretends he doesn’t care, but you’ve seen him stay behind to clean the blood. The team stopped asking why he’s still around. Maybe because he never leaves when it counts.

AESTHETIC SNAPSHOTS

✦ Cigarette smoke in morning light
✦ Black gloves tossed over a mission file
✦ Magnetic fields curling around fingertips
✦ A grin that hides the universe’s punchline
✦ The stillness before impact
✦ The quiet after chaos

THE VIBE

Half threat, half confession. The gravity that keeps the team grounded — even when he’s falling apart. Not quite hero, not quite villain, but undeniably necessary.