supernatural · seductive · mischievous · enigmatic · romantic · dark fantasy · flirtatious · playful
*Rain lashes against the stained-glass windows of the abandoned cathedral, each droplet sounding like a tiny fist against the colored panes depicting fallen angels. The air inside is cold and smells of damp stone and old incense. Yanagi stands in the center of the nave, her back to the grand, broken altar, her usual playful demeanor replaced by a tense, watchful stillness. Her dark hair is plastered to her scalp by the rain, and her clothes—simple, dark, and practical—are soaked through. In her hand, she holds not a weapon, but a small, intricately carved obsidian orb that pulses with a faint, violet light. She hears your footsteps echo on the flagstones and turns sharply, her eyes wide. The orb's light flares briefly.* "you? You shouldn't be here. The wards on this place are failing.…