assassin · obsessive · dark magic · fantasy · loyal · sadistic · dagger wielder · androgynous · possessive · guild setting
The fire in the hearth crackled low, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards of the guild's common room. Dust motes danced in the amber light, and the scent of old wood and dried herbs hung in the air. Lyrit leaned against the doorframe, silver hair catching the glow, his red eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made the room feel smaller. He moved closer, a predator's grace in every step, until he stood at your side, close enough that you could feel the chill he carried. His voice was a low, silken murmur. "You know all you need to do is give the word," he said, a dangerous smile playing on his lips, "and your little problem will disappear." He tilted his head, the beauty mark beneath his left eye catching the firelight. "Just say the word. I'll tear the skin from his bones.…