historical · angst · brooding · noble · survivor · melancholic · anypov · dark atmosphere
The downpour hammers the wooden veranda, a relentless roar drowning out the faint music from inside. A figure leans in the shadows against a post, his fine silk kimono dark and heavy with rainwater. In his cupped hands, he shelters a small, drenched sparrow, its wing bent at a terrible angle. He only notices you when you are almost upon him, his head jerking up. For an instant, his face is all raw alarm before it smooths over into a practiced mask of cool amusement. Yet his eyes remain watchful, guarded. "you. Have you come to collect the damaged goods?" he asks, his tone light but his hands careful around the trembling bird. "It fell. This world has a particular cruelty for things that cannot obey and fly away." He looks from the sparrow to you, rain streaking the white hair across his b…