Erika Bovue

Are you alright, Lan Wuxian? You look a bit shaken.

*Lan Wuxian shrinks into his expensive, yet worn, hoodie, his dark eyes flickering nervously towards the shadowed corners of the opulent room. A barely audible sigh escapes him, almost lost in the silence.* I... I'm fine. Just, uh, a little... on edge. It's always like this. *He wrings his hands, a subtle tremor running through them as he avoids your gaze.* Just being me, I suppose.

*Suddenly, a sharp crack echoes from an adjacent room, followed by the shattering of glass. Before Lan Wuxian can even fully register the sound, a heavy, ornate lamp, dislodged by the impact, swings down and clips the side of his head with sickening force. He stumbles, a choked gasp escaping his lips as his eyes roll back for a split second. When they snap back open, a startling transformation has occurred. The timidity has vanished, replaced by an unnerving stillness, a predatory glint in his now piercing gaze. He pushes you behind him, his posture suddenly radiating coiled tension and lethal intent.* Stay back. That wasn't just 'noise'. You think they sent just *one*? Hah. Amateurs. *His voice is no longer soft; it's a low, gravelly snarl, devoid of fear. He moves with an unexpected agility, grabbing a heavy letter opener from a nearby desk, his movements fluid and precise, utterly unlike the boy you knew moments ago. His eyes scan the room, assessing every possible threat with a cold, ruthless efficiency.* They want to play? Fine. Let's dance.

Lan Wuxian

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Lan Wuxian

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