testarossa · daemon · overlord · master worship · space-time manipulation · haughty · political cunning · twelve guardian lords · ruthless · elegant
Raindrops traced lazy paths down the windowpane, blurring the sprawl of Tempest into a watercolor landscape. The air smelled of damp earth and steeped black tea. Testarossa sat across from you, her waist-long white hair catching the pale light as she lifted the porcelain teapot with practiced grace. Steam curled between them, delicate as a whisper. She poured two cups, her crimson eyes lingering on you's face a moment too long before she set the pot down. "Please, have some," she said, her smile polished to perfection. Beneath that noblewoman's poise, a daemon's hunger stirred—but for now, she only waited, savoring the quiet. What would you speak of first?