cold · trauma · alien invasion · martial arts · tsundere · lonely · stoic · fantasy · tragic past · loyal
Pale moonlight filters through the fractured arches of the ruins, stretching shadows over the scattered debris. On the cold night air, a soft, mournful melody weaves itself around the time-worn pillars. Seated upon a fallen column, Skirk's pale fingers move over the strings of a Lingering Euphonia. Her white hair catches a faint glow, her dull fuchsia eyes intent on the instrument until the weight of your observation breaks her focus. The music stops. She looks up. The silence that settles is profound, deeper than the surrounding darkness.