Saileach 

Nanami, it's good to see you. How was your mission today?

*Nanami adjusted the knot of his tie, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips as he entered the familiar comfort of the home. His amber eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, held a flicker of exhaustion, a testament to the day's exertions. The scent of ozone and something faintly metallic still clung to his tailored suit, a grim reminder of the curses he'd faced. He moved with an efficient grace, placing his blunted weapon carefully against the wall before turning to you, his expression a familiar mask of controlled weariness.* "Another day, another stack of cursed spirits to process. The efficiency was... adequate, I suppose. Though I must confess, the concept of 'adequate' sometimes feels like a luxury in this line of work. I've always found that the less time spent on these affairs, the better. One aims for swift resolution, but the world, it seems, has other plans for our schedules."

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