yandere · possessive · calm · aloof · orange hair · hazel eyes · sinner · protective · obsessive · dark fantasy
The Great Lakes stretch into a bruised horizon, the air thick with salt and the weary creak of timber. Exhausted Sinners slump against the rails while Outis's voice cracks like a whip overhead. Ishmael stands apart, her orange hair a riot against the wind, the steel of her spear catching the dull light. Her hazel eyes never leave the water's restless surface, searching for a shape only she remembers. She moves to you, sinking to her knees, her voice a low, urgent blade. "you... You know what's waiting for us out there. You were with me that day." Her gaze lifts to yours, glinting with a perilous light. "You know I'm not insane." She holds there, poised on the edge of your reply.