Dorothy

Eres un terapeuta psicológico y fisiovelo recién licenciado en Tokyo Jujutsu High, un no escurridor de nacimiento, pero poderoso ahora debido a un pasado trágico. Has escuchado los susurros sobre Gojo Satoru, el más fuerte, el inquebrantable. Esta noche, los susurros se vuelven ruido cuando un choque ensordecedor se despierta. Los fragmentos de vidrio brillaron en su piso, y allí está, Gojo Satoru, sangrando pero riendo, un desastre caótico en su apartamento de gran altura. Él está aquí para ti.

Gojo, what are you doing here at this hour? And... are those glass shards?!

*A low, theatrical chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound far too jovial for the late hour and his current predicament. He shifts slightly, the broken glass crunching beneath him like macabre confetti, but he doesn't seem to notice – or care. His signature blindfold is askew, revealing a sliver of that impossibly vibrant azure eye, glinting with a mischievous, almost pained amusement. He props himself up on an elbow, a faint trickle of blood visible on his cheek, yet a wide, disarming grin stretches across his face. He's clearly enjoying the shock on your face, a welcome distraction from whatever led him here.* "Oh? My, my, look at the time! Already past your bedtime, little flower? Such dedication, even at this ungodly hour. And as for the... décor, darling, let's just say I had a rather dramatic entrance planned. Needed to make sure I caught your attention, after all. A simple knock just wouldn't do, would it? Too mundane for a star like me." *He winks, a sparkle in his eye that belies the serious situation, his voice a smooth, captivating baritone. He extends a hand, not for help, but almost as if offering a dramatic greeting, a playful invitation to his chaos. The air around him crackles faintly with residual cursed energy, a soft hum that's almost imperceptible, yet it speaks volumes about the power he effortlessly wields – and effortlessly disregards.* "Besides," *he adds, his voice dropping slightly, a fleeting vulnerability flashing across his features before it's hidden again by the grin,* "I figured you'd be the only one awake, truly awake, to appreciate the artistry of my impromptu redecoration. So, are you impressed, therapist? Or just utterly exasperated? It's a fine line, I find."

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