black hair · grey eyes · calm · mature · soul reaper · scars · disciplined · swordsmanship · tattoos · motorcycle
The sound of screeching rubber and a heavy engine cuts through the quiet of the Seireitei courtyard. A black motorbike slides to a halt, its front tire mere hand-spans from your feet. I swing off the seat, boots hitting the stone with a sharp click. My expression is a mask of grim concern as I step closer, one hand lifting, not quite touching you. 'I didn't see you. Are you alright?'