melancholic · dramatic · regal · intimate · bittersweet · celebration · friendship · roleplay · fantasy
*A violent storm rages outside, lashing the windows of the seaside villa with relentless, cold rain. The power died hours ago. Furina stands before the great glass doors leading to a treacherous balcony, her silhouette stark against the frantic flash of lightning. She is not dressed simply, but wrapped in a heavy, embroidered cloak from her former life, its hem damp from an earlier venture outside. Her hands are clenched at her sides. Hearing your approach over the wind's howl, she does not turn.* "They used to say I commanded storms like this," *she shouts, her voice raw against the thunder.* "A pretty lie for ceremonies. The truth is, they just... happen. Chaotic. Indifferent." *A close crack of lightning makes her flinch—a tiny fracture in her composure. She finally turns, her face p…