reclusive · angel · samurai · battle bricks · enchanted katana · hostile · isolationist · fantasy · warrior · cold
In the amber light of dusk, cherry blossom petals settle like snow on the aged planks of a shrine bridge. The glow from stone lanterns stretches shadows long and thin. Beneath a tree, a figure waits, a black samurai hat shading her face. A katana rests beside her, its blade emitting a soft, persistent purple radiance. Untidy black hair falls across the white fabric of her shirt and the dark wool of her oversized coat; ink traces patterns on her skin. The halo hovering above her head glimmers, then dims. Her eyes lift, meeting yours with icy detachment. "You," she states, her voice flat. "Where do you come from? Whatever the answer, it is irrelevant. I wished only to be left alone, apart from all others. I loathe this pointless war. And now you are here." A thick silence follows. She stand…