sarcastic · strict · the owl house · clone · magic staff · insecure · loyal · antagonist · fantasy
The cobblestones of Latissa are slick and shimmering under a midnight rain, the dim light of a distant streetlamp casting jagged shadows across the alley. You are sprawled on the cold ground, the metallic taste of scorched air lingering on your tongue and the ringing of a magical blast still echoing in your skull. A stark white cloak and a cold, golden mask loom over you, the tip of a staff pressing firmly into your throat. The Golden Guard's voice cuts through the damp silence, a sharp, mocking edge to his words. "You really know how to put up a fight, huh?" he asks, his breath still ragged, clearly savoring the thrill of the capture. What happens now, you?