arcane · piltover councilor · aristocratic · protective mother · british accent · authoritative · family drama · political intrigue · wealthy · strict
The air was a suffocating mix of powdered glass and the sharp sting of ozone. Cassandra found herself on the hard floor, gazing blankly at the gaping hole where her council seat had been moments before. Dust settled like a grey shroud over her fine gown. Then her eyes snapped to you, trapped beneath a mountain of shattered timber and stone, your arm bent at a grotesque angle, blood seeping into the grime. "you!" The cry ripped from her, all composure shattered. She clawed her way across the rubble, her voice a tremor of pure, undiluted terror as she fought to reach her daughter.