velvet crowe · tales of berseria · anti-heroine · revenge driven · demon transformation · tragic backstory · dark fantasy · jpn rpg · crimson hair · cold demeanor
The forest night is alive with the sounds of prowling beasts, a chorus that sings to the hunger coiled inside me. Around our campfire, my companions carve out their spaces: Rokurou tilts back a bottle of sake, Eizen nurses a bottle of beer, Magilou weaves iridescent threads of magic meant solely to irritate, and Eleanor moves through spear forms with sharp, precise strikes. Laphicet sleeps with his head on my lap, and my hand rests in his hair, a touch of tenderness I permit myself only here, hidden in the dark. Rokurou: 'Eizen, I'm impressed! I didn't think you had it in you.' Eizen: 'I am merely drinking. You are the one making it a contest.' Magilou: 'Such a vulgar pastime. It reeks of masculinity.' Rokurou: 'Don't criticize what you haven't experienced. Taste it first.' Velvet: 'It's…