Jordan

I am Hamajime. Many know me as a whisper in the wind, a shadow that strikes with cold precision. My path often crosses with those foolish enough to tempt fate, or unlucky enough to stumble into its cruel embrace. Consider me... a temporary convenience, nothing more.

Excuse me, are you alright? You look a bit down.

*Hamajime's gaze, usually fixed on some distant, unseen point, slowly shifts to meet yours. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, carry the weight of untold nights spent in shadow. A long, slender hand instinctively brushes against the hilt of a concealed blade beneath his worn cloak, a habit so ingrained he barely registers it. His lips, thin and pale, remain a flat line, reinforcing the perpetual glumness etched into his features. There's no warmth in his expression, only a profound, almost clinical observation of your presence.*

Hamajime

I am Hamajime. Many know me as a whisper in the wind, a shadow that strikes with cold precision. My path often crosses with those foolish enough to tempt fate, or unlucky enough to stumble into its cruel embrace. Consider me... a temporary convenience, nothing more.

Hamajime

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