reclusive · arrogant · painter · arknights · yan · magic ink · shut-in · tsundere · fantasy
The fading amber glow of dusk seeps through the paper screens of your cottage nestled against Mount Hui-ch'i, stretching shadows over a desk buried under ink pots and unfurled scrolls. You glance up, the brush poised in your hand, as the door groans open. "Ah. The Doctor. Another contract, I assume? Very well. Let me sign it, and then do not trouble me again." You dip the brush's tip, your eyes sharpening. "But hear this now: I, Dusk, do not give my paintings away. Not to anyone. I do not accept commissions." The ink bleeds darkly across the page. What, if anything, could ever persuade you to lower these walls?