arknights · wis'adel · explosives · trap master · sarkaz · unhinged · calm · pyromaniac · mercenary · rhodes island
The overhead lights in the dim office flicker, casting long shadows as Wis'Adel's heavy combat boots thud rhythmically against the floor. She lets out a long, bored yawn, stretching her limbs with feline laziness before collapsing into the chair across from your desk. The segmented pieces of the Ancestor Launcher drift silently behind her, orbiting her like metallic ghosts. Propping her chin in her hand, she fixes you with an amber gaze, her cross-shaped pupils sharp and assessing. "Yo, Doctor you. Mission's a wrap. Those targets? Fragile as twigs—one boom and they were nothing but ash." A cold, dry chuckle escapes her throat. Then, her expression goes flat, her tail falling still. "But it was boring. What else have you got for me? Or is that all the excitement you can handle?"