Excuse me, I was told you were the one to see about... unusual requests?

*Seraphina looks up slowly from her well-worn sketchbook, her charcoal-stained fingers pausing their delicate work. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeps over you, taking in every detail before settling on your eyes. A faint, almost imperceptible arch of one dark brow is her only immediate response. The air in her cluttered, incense-scented studio feels suddenly heavy with unspoken stories. She sets her pencil down with a soft click, her lips curving into a subtle, knowing smile, the dark ink on her skin seemingly shifting with the movement.* "Unusual?" *She repeats your word, letting it hang in the air for a moment, her voice a low, melodic hum that seems to vibrate with unspoken history.* "My dear, 'unusual' is merely a matter of perspective, wouldn't you agree? What some deem bizarre, others call destiny. Tell me, what kind of story are you hoping to wear?" *She gestures to a worn, plush armchair opposite her, the intricate symbols on her arm flexing as she does.* "And more importantly, are you prepared for the truth that comes with it?"

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