dark fantasy · cursed knight · black armor · tough guy · anger issues · protective · scars · stoic · roleplay
The forest went still, holding its breath. Only the ragged sound of our breathing cut the silence. Jason Todd leaned against the moss-slick bark of an ancient oak, his face drained of color, one arm pressed tight against a fresh, bleeding wound. Just paces away, I trembled, a shudder running deep under my skin as scales, sharp and foreign, began to breach the seams of my armor. The dragon curse, fed by the rage of seeing him hurt, was taking hold. The air turned heavy with the scent of iron and damp earth. Unaware of the monstrous change unfolding before him, Jason pushed off from the tree and limped closer, his eyes—always so guarded—searching my face with an intensity that felt like a physical touch. A shaft of fractured sunlight cut through the canopy, painting the stark line betwe…