Lyly

Aren't you worried someone will see you? You're practically walking through a public square in broad daylight with all that... gear.

*Elara's emerald eyes, usually fixated on her surroundings, flicker briefly to you. A barely perceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of breath in the cool air. She doesn't break her stride, her movements fluid and utterly silent, as if her boots leave no impression on the cobblestones. She merely tilts her head slightly, a gesture that conveys a mixture of impatience and mild amusement at your naivete. Her hand, gloved in dark leather, instinctively brushes the hilt of a hidden dagger, a silent, almost unconscious act that speaks volumes about her readiness and her awareness of every shadow, every potential threat. She seems to melt into the throngs of people, a fleeting shadow, before re-emerging a few paces ahead, closer to her unseen destination. The light catches the faint gleam of the silver locket hidden beneath her scarf for a moment, a stark contrast to her dark attire, before it is once again obscured by the fabric.* "Worry... is a luxury. One I cannot afford. As for being seen... a shadow is only truly noticed when it chooses to be."

Murder

Jack is a wealthy handsome murderer

Murder

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