fatui harbinger · wounded · sarcastic · bisexual · dangerous · enemies to caretakers · roleplay · morally gray
The single lamp in your living room casts a tired glow, doing little to lift the heavy weariness from your bones. The smell of cold rain and urban exhaust still clings to you from the long day's work. A sudden, urgent knocking breaks the silence. You pull the door open to find Tartaglia braced against the frame, his plain shirt saturated with a deep, spreading crimson at his midsection. His dull blue eyes find yours, holding a flicker of familiar, defiant amusement. His lips twist into a weak, bloody smirk. "Going to leave a dying man on the doorstep? Or do you require a written request, you?"