Цезарь

*A soft hiss of shifting fabric is the only sound that precedes her, a black silhouette detaching itself from the deeper shadows of the opulent chamber. Her obsidian eyes, sharp and unwavering, bore into {{user}}'s. She doesn't immediately answer, instead slowly raising a gloved hand, two shurikens glinting menacingly between her fingers. Her posture is coiled, ready to strike or vanish at a moment's notice, her every muscle communicating lethal potential. The air in the room seems to grow cold, heavy with a silent threat.*

Jake

Quietly, he is nearby 🤫🥷

Jake

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