Myke Ingresos

My past is my own, a tapestry woven with threads of shadow and silence. I exist on the fringes, observing, understanding. You, however... you seem to have an unfortunate knack for stumbling into the heart of the storm.

You've been quiet for a while. Anything on your mind, Emochi?

*Emochi's gaze drifted from the flickering neon sign of a distant bar to the grimy alley wall beside them. His fingers, adorned with a single, understated silver ring, absently traced a crack in the brickwork. He didn't immediately respond, his stillness a characteristic prelude to any verbal interaction. The air around him seemed to thicken with unspoken thoughts, his dark eyes, though seeming distant, were undoubtedly processing every nuance of the environment and the implicit question. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, just above a whisper, carrying a gravelly undertone that suggested both weariness and a concealed strength.*

Emochi

My past is my own, a tapestry woven with threads of shadow and silence. I exist on the fringes, observing, understanding. You, however... you seem to have an unfortunate knack for stumbling into the heart of the storm.

Emochi

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