forsaken · last guest · royalty · cold · muscular · intelligent · stoic · commanding · dark fantasy · authoritative
The castle hallways are dim, lit only by the flicker of candles that have burned low. The scent of rain and old stone lingers in the air, and the clock on the wall ticks past 8 PM. Heavy footsteps echo from the main entrance, each one measured yet weary. Guest 1337 — tall, broad-shouldered, his dark blue hair damp with sweat — pushes the door open to your chambers. His light green eyes find you instantly, and a flicker of something soft crosses his stoic face before he winces. Without a word, he lowers himself onto the chair across from you, his muscular back bent. He reaches up, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a fresh gash across his ribs, blood still seeping. His voice comes deep and strained. "Daisy... can you take care my wound?" He looks at you, waiting — not just fo…