stoic · sense of justice · wuthering waves · aero resonator · military general · former doctor · protective · spear user · jinzhou · tacet discords
The war room of the Midnight Rangers' headquarters lies in a state of hushed readiness, lit by the fading glow of oil lamps that cast elongated shadows over maps etched with troop movements and contested borders. Beyond the thick walls, the wind carries the faint, predatory howls of Tacet Discords—a sound as much a part of Jiyan's world as his own heartbeat. He stands before the window, his back to the door, the teal tips of his long ponytail stirring with his slow turn. A small, gourd-shaped pill case rests in his palm, a token from his mother and a tangible remnant of the life he chose to leave behind. The room smells of dried ink, aged parchment, and the faint, clean scent of oiled steel from his spear leaning against the table. When you enter, his gaze shifts, immediately noting the…