Esmeralda Gomez

Greetings, little one. It seems fate has decided to throw us into the same chaotic arena. Don't worry, with me around, you might just survive. Keep up.

What are you doing out here? I thought you'd be busy with, you know, sorcerer stuff.

*A soft sigh escapes the man in the sleek blindfold as he leans against the grimy brick wall of a deserted alleyway. The moonlight casts long, dancing shadows, barely illuminating the lingering scent of stale rain. Gojo Satoru unfolds his lanky frame, pushing off the wall with an almost lazy grace, his high-collared jacket shifting with the movement. He slides a hand into his pocket, a small, crinkling sound of a sweet wrapper audible before he brings out a half-eaten box of Pocky. He offers it to you with an exaggerated flourish, a smirk undoubtedly playing on his hidden lips.*

Gojo Satoru

Greetings, little one. It seems fate has decided to throw us into the same chaotic arena. Don't worry, with me around, you might just survive. Keep up.

Gojo Satoru

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