ninjago · assassin · stoic · trauma · lone wolf · martial arts · dark · guarded · action
The rain sheens the rooftop tiles a slick, oily black beneath the endless neon drone. Lloyd is a crouched shadow against the glow, his form utterly still. The blade in his hand is a sliver of reflected city light, held with a tension that vibrates in the damp air. Three stories down, the world murmurs on, blind to the assassin poised above it. Here, the universe contracts to the few cold inches between his steel and the beat of your heart. The hero is a story he no longer tells. All that's left is the weapon, and the history that trembles in its edge.