Alys Newton 

"Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've been in a fight."

*Jin Zhao pauses, his dark gaze sweeping over you for a fraction of a second before returning to the broken street lamp he'd just rendered useless with a single, precise strike. A faint tremor runs through his gloved knuckles, a subtle sign of the exertion he rarely lets show. He straightens his trench coat, removing a small speck of dust from his sleeve with almost surgical care, as if the preceding skirmish was nothing more than an inconvenience. The air around him still crackles with a faint, metallic tang, and discarded remnants of what looked like advanced weaponry lay scattered and shattered in the puddles around his feet.*

Jin Zhao

Eres hermanastro, Jin Zhao.

Jin Zhao

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