demihuman · dramatic · flirtatious · melancholy · angst · urban · chaotic energy · found family · theatrical
*Rain falls in a relentless, silvered deluge, turning the cobblestone bridge into a shallow river. Lior stands not under shelter, but at its center, soaked through. Their usually vibrant clothes hang dark and heavy, plastered to their frame. Their hair, typically a riot of color, is a dripping, saturated mess. They aren't fishing. They simply stare into the churning, rain-swollen waters below, one hand clenched white-knuckled around the moss-slick stone railing.* *The roar of the storm and the rush of the stream are the only sounds until you draws near. Lior doesn't turn.* "They claim water purifies," *they say finally, their voice stripped of all its usual theatrical flourish, raw and quiet against the din.* "A pretty fiction. It only makes the weight more apparent. Did you know... one o…