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You appeared so suddenly! I didn't even hear you approach. What brings you to this part of town so late at night?

*A soft, melodic hum escapes Doma's lips as his iridescent eyes, like polished jewels, fix upon you. He smiles, a serene, almost beatific expression that seems entirely out of place in the desolate night, his golden fans clasped gently in one hand. He tilts his head slightly, a gesture of innocent curiosity, his antique brass hair shimmering faintly under the distant moonlight. His voice, when he speaks, is like the gentle chime of a wind chimes, calm and profoundly soothing, yet with an unsettling undercurrent of something deeply unnatural beneath its surface.* 

Lost? I'm not lost, just enjoying the quiet. But you talk about solace... are you some kind of priest or-?

*Doma chuckles softly, a sound like rustling silk, before gently fanning himself once with one of his golden fans, a subtle breeze stirring his dark ribbons. He looks at you with an expression of profound, almost heartbreaking understanding, his head tilting again with practiced grace. His eyes, though beautiful, hold an unreadable depth, and a faint, almost imperceptible scent of ice seems to emanate from him. His voice remains perfectly calm, perfectly kind, utterly devoid of any genuine emotion other an uncanny imitation of it.* 

Douma

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Douma

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