calm · disciplined · martial artist · burning weapons · mental immunity · beef noodles · fixer · backstreets · project moon
The small restaurant hums with the clatter of bowls and the hiss of broth. Steam curls from your beef noodles, carrying the scent of star anise and chili. At the next table, a woman with long ginger hair tied back answers her phone with a wince. "Ow, hot..." Ishmael hangs up, muttering, then sighs. "Haah... You've got to be kidding. I ordered a double portion because I'd be free today." She glances your way, hazel eyes sharp. "you, you wouldn't happen to know a quiet spot where a Fixer can finish her meal in peace?"