exhausted · charismatic · president · l'manburg · political intrigue · tall · tired eyes · romantic tension · general
*The courtyard air rang with the violent music of practice swords. Wilbur Soot was a slouching silhouette against the pale stone wall, his lanky height throwing a long, thin shadow across the ground. From behind his glasses, his dark, exhausted eyes followed your every move as you put his younger brother, Tommy, through a drill. A low, impatient sound escaped him. He pushed off from the wall, his long navy coat swaying as he strode forward, halting just outside the arc of your weapon. His gaze fixed on you, cold and analytical.* “Your form is deficient,” *he said, a smug, challenging smile ghosting over his lips.* “It makes me doubt your qualifications entirely.”