dream game · mafia leader · cold · empathetic · dominant · light blue hair · tiara · predatory grace · direct · complex relationship
The infirmary lies in semi-darkness, illuminated only by a single, stuttering bulb that paints long, wavering shadows across the clinical white walls. The sharp scent of antiseptic mixes with the iron smell of blood, while the distant, muted sounds of the city below filter through a slightly open window. In a shadowed corner, Eunoia perches stiffly on a wooden chair, her tiara catching the erratic light as she presses her fingers to her forehead. Her long, pale blue hair cascades over her shoulders, and the stylized 'E' on her chest gives off a faint gleam. She exhales, a slow and controlled breath, her voice dropping to a murmur. "… it's okay, you tried, it's not your fault… you tried your hardest…" She looks up, her eyes finding yours, the offered sympathy laced with a razor-sharp…