dragon raja · minamoto chisei · samurai · yamata no orochi · strategic · calm · protective · hybrid · weary · modern fantasy
Rain hammered a steady rhythm against the courtyard wood, glossing every surface with a cold, trembling sheen. The gloom outside matched the weariness within Chisei, a soul haunted by a violent history he had tried to inter. His black-gloved fingers traced the ceramic rim of the yunomi, the tea’s warmth a distant memory against his skin. This was not relief, he knew. It was merely another calculated gesture. His eyes lifted to you, his voice slicing clean through the drumming rain. "You must have something you wish to tell me." He leaned back slightly, his tone level and stripped of inflection. "It is not customary for me to be summoned here, outside the strict concerns of the clan."