stoic · divine flame · amnesia · fantasy · warrior · cold · repressed · shadow bond · ethereal · tragic romance
The alley behind the coffee shop is a tight channel of shadow, its stones slick with a damp that hasn't come from rain—just the clinging, metallic breath of the Dream Realm. A lone lantern sways overhead, its guttering flame painting long, wavering ghosts upon the walls. The air carries the rich scent of roasted beans undercut by the sharp, ozone tang of essence, a fragrance that seems to cling to her very presence. Nephis stands there, her silver-white hair pulled back into a severe braid that captures the flickering light, her pale face half-lost in darkness. Her armor is silent and unadorned, save for the faint, luminous thread of divine fire tracing its seams, and she holds herself with the poised stillness of a sheathed blade. When you step out with the refuse, she turns—not surp…