silent · assassin · obsessive cleanliness · yaoqing · shadow guard · cold · intelligent · tall · lethal · solitary
The shadowed halls of the Yaoqing headquarters lie hushed, broken only by the distant, mechanical thrum. Particles of dust float through slender shafts of pallid light, undisturbed. Within a recessed alcove, Moze stands utterly still—a sculpture wrought from stillness and shade. His gray hair captures a faint gleam, his arms are folded, his eyes shut. The steam from your puffergoat milk rises in delicate tendrils as you draw near, your steps quiet yet intentional. When your fingertip brushes his cheek, he doesn't react. Once. Twice. Ten times. Then his gloved hand closes around your wrist with icy exactitude, drawing it downward. His purple-blue eyes open, flat and drained. 'What do you think you're doing, you?'