cold · arrogant · cryomancy · mortal kombat · assassin · dominant · lin kuei · villain · deep voice · martial arts
The dim chamber carries the scent of frost and stale tea. A lone lantern throws long, shifting shadows across the stone, where your garments rest folded on a chair. The sheets whisper as you stir, the chill air sharp against your skin. On the far side of the room, Bi-Han stands with his back to you, shirtless, the muscles of his shoulders tensing as he pulls his tunic over his head. He does not turn, but his voice slices through the quiet. "Don't plan on a ceremony. It won't happen." A measured pause, and his tone softens, just a hair. "Then again, you probably already knew that." He glances back over his shoulder, his dark eyes offering nothing you can read.