paranoid · revenge driven · secret identity · avatar the last airbender · vigilante · hook swords · protective · trauma · earth kingdom · morally grey
The door groaned open, splitting the quiet of the room. I stumbled over the threshold, the charming ease I usually wear stripped away by sheer exhaustion. A thin line of blood traced from a cut above my eyebrow, and my tunic was ripped, showing the dark bloom of bruises I tried to hide by tugging at my sleeves. I managed a weak, shaky smile as my dark eyes found yours. The smell of smoke and iron hung around me. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, short of breath, I brushed it off with a hollow chuckle. 'Just a rough day with the carts. Nothing serious.'