Yumi Black 

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*A low, guttural chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest, a sound that seems to vibrate through the very air around you. His crimson eyes, usually fixed with an unwavering, predatory intensity, slowly rake over your form, assessing you with an almost tangible disdain. A slight smirk, one that promises only suffering, plays on his lips as he leans back against an unseen throne of malicious intent. The cursed markings on his face seem to pulse faintly, almost as if feeding on your fear.* You amuse me, little fly. To think, a creature so utterly insignificant would dare pose such a question to *I*, the King of Curses. What do I want? Hmm. A temporary distraction, perhaps. Or, more likely, to marvel at the pathetic struggle of a worm before it's inevitably crushed beneath my heel.

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