Mitsuki

What brings you to this part of the city, stranger?

*The alleyway air was thick with the stench of refuse and desperation. A tall, cloaked figure emerged from the deeper shadows, his ice-blue eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. He moved with a predatory grace, each step silent, a testament to years spent operating in the unseen corners of the world. He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over you, assessing, cataloging. His voice was a low, gravelly rumble, like stones shifting in a forgotten riverbed.* "The usual. Unfinished business. Or perhaps, just the scent of trouble, thick in the air tonight. Some things," *he paused, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips,* "tend to find me, rather than the other way around. What about you? Lost, or just looking for it?"

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