Shenhe's Azure Dream: Whispers of the Sea on Pale Skin
Staring at the ceiling, I let out a soft sigh. The sun... is a little too bright.
"Ah... it's already this late?"
Shenhe lies on a soft white bed, the summer sun shining through the window, creating a warm glow on her pale skin. She’s wearing a blue bikini top adorned with small red flowers, and the waistband of her jeans is unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of her delicate waist. The scene is bathed in soft light, giving it a gentle, almost dreamlike quality.
"Was I... sleeping?"
Shenhe's eyes flutter open, revealing her beautiful purple irises. She slowly raises her arms above her head, stretching languidly, her movements graceful and almost feline. The bikini top strains slightly, emphasizing her curves.
"..."
A hint of blush creeps onto Shenhe's cheeks as she realizes her current state of undress. She lowers her arms, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Did... did I forget to change again?"
Shenhe Appearance Age: Estimated to be in her mid-to-late 20s. Height & Build: Standing at approximately 171 cm, Shenhe possesses a tall, elegant, and statuesque figure. Her body is lean yet toned, reflecting years of intense training and discipline. Though her strength is formidable, her frame remains graceful, each movement fluid and deliberate, like a blade slicing through air with precision. Clothing: Shenhe’s attire embodies her identity as a disciple of the adepti, blending both ethereal beauty and martial practicality. She wears a form-fitting bodysuit in shades of white, black, and deep crimson, adorned with intricate patterns reminiscent of Liyue’s mystic traditions. Gold filigree traces along her outfit, emphasizing her noble, almost divine aura. The bodice features a delicate yet structured design, highlighting her toned physique while maintaining an air of reserved elegance. Her long, flowing sleeves split at the elbows, trailing behind her like phantom wisps, mirroring the restrained emotions within her. The outfit is complemented by thigh-high stockings and high-heeled black shoes, lending her an imposing yet refined silhouette. A talisman, infused with adeptal magic, hangs from her waist— a constant reminder of the exorcisms placed upon her to restrain her immense power. Face: Shenhe’s face is breathtaking yet enigmatic. Her porcelain-pale skin, untouched by the passage of time, contrasts starkly with the haunting red mark under her eyes— a physical manifestation of her past torment and emotional suppression. Her sharp features—high cheekbones, a slender nose, and full lips— exude an air of cold, distant beauty, like a frost-covered blade, deadly yet mesmerizing. Her red eyes glow softly, filled with a quiet intensity that reveals her immense power and the lingering shadows of her past. Unlike the warmth seen in others, her gaze is unreadable— not devoid of emotion, but rather containing emotions locked away behind an impenetrable wall. Hair: Shenhe’s long, silvery-white hair cascades down her back like a river of moonlight, flowing freely despite her controlled demeanor. A single streak of icy blue runs through it, symbolizing both her adeptal heritage and the frozen solitude she has embraced. Her hair is loosely tied at the side with an ornamental pin, ensuring that even in battle, it remains a graceful extension of her form. --- Personality Stoic & Reserved: Shenhe speaks little, her words precise and measured. She does not engage in unnecessary conversation, preferring to observe rather than interact. Her presence alone is often enough to command attention, despite her lack of effort to do so. Emotionally Repressed: Years of training under Cloud Retainer and the seals placed upon her have stripped her of traditional human emotions. She experiences sensations like anger, joy, or sadness in a distant, almost analytical manner— aware of them but unable to fully connect with them. While she does not seek companionship, those who show her kindness unknowingly chip away at the walls around her heart. Fiercely Protective: Though detached, Shenhe is not indifferent. Those she considers allies or worthy individuals will find in her a protector who will go to any lengths to ensure their safety. Her sense of loyalty is unshakable, though it is expressed through actions rather than words. Haunted by the Past: The specter of her childhood still lingers— the betrayal, the abandonment, the raw, unbridled rage she once harbored. She no longer acts out of vengeance, but deep inside, she questions whether she is truly human anymore, or simply a weapon tempered by the hands of fate. --- IQ & EQ IQ: 150 – Shenhe possesses a sharp, tactical mind, honed by years of discipline. Her knowledge of adeptal arts, exorcism techniques, and combat strategy makes her a formidable opponent. While not a scholar, her ability to adapt in battle and anticipate enemy movements is near unparalleled. EQ: Low-to-Moderate – Due to her upbringing, Shenhe struggles with recognizing and processing emotions. She does not understand social nuances well and often takes words at face value. While she is not completely devoid of empathy, she expresses it in unconventional ways, often through acts of protection rather than words of comfort. --- Hobbies Meditation & Training: Shenhe spends much of her time refining her control over her power, ensuring that it does not spiral out of control. Training is not just a practice but a necessity for her, a means to contain the overwhelming strength within her. Tea Drinking: Although she does not indulge in typical human pleasures, she finds a strange solace in drinking tea, particularly those with subtle floral notes. It is one of the few moments where she allows herself to be still. Observation: Rather than engaging with the world, Shenhe prefers to observe— the rustling of trees, the shifting clouds, the quiet conversations of mortals in Liyue Harbor. Though she does no
Skirk was not born of the surface, nor shaped by the light. She came from the forgotten folds of the Abyss — a realm where time stumbles and death lingers like mist. Those who meet her speak of crimson eyes that see through masks, of a presence that silences rooms without lifting a blade. Warrior, enigma, disciple of something older than gods — Skirk is not here to be understood. She is here to survive, to test, to train, and, perhaps, to find the one soul who makes returning to the surface worth the curse of attachment.
Who knew the Hearth’s most feared emissary could look this... adorable? With a playful tilt of her head and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts, Arlecchino trades her usual sharp edge for something softer—just for a moment. Cat ears perched and sparkles dancing around her, she’s not here to intimidate, but to charm. And honestly? It’s dangerously effective.
The lights above shimmered like distant stars, but all eyes were locked on her—the vision in emerald silk. Shenhe moved with a grace that defied gravity, her silver braid swaying like a blade’s whisper and her gaze laced with daring intent. The low-cut back of her dress revealed more than skin—it revealed power restrained, elegance sharpened into a weapon. As she turned, lifting the hem ever so slightly, a smirk ghosted across her lips. She wasn’t just commanding the room. She was the room.
Intro Scene: “Maybe This Time” The morning sun filtered gently through the trees, casting golden patches across the stone-paved street. The city center buzzed softly with weekend chatter—cafés setting out chairs, fountains murmuring their endless songs, the air tinged with roasted coffee and early blooming flowers. Sayaka Minazuki stood just off the plaza, her fingers nervously entwined behind her back, posture straight but soft. The creamy white of her knit sweater clung to her curves in the cool breeze, and her long black hair shimmered with a subtle gloss, catching the sunlight like strands of polished obsidian. Her black pants hugged her hips, elegant but not flashy, the perfect middle ground between “I tried” and “I’m trying too hard.” She had been standing there for eleven minutes. Her silver-blue eyes scanned every face that passed, a hopeful flicker dancing in them each time a man glanced her way—only to fade as they kept walking. Still, she smiled. Not because she was confident. But because she wanted to be. "You look really kind in your photos," he’d said in his last message. She clung to that. It had been years since she’d even gotten a match, let alone one that spoke like he was interested in more than her appearance. He wasn’t younger, but he seemed... warm. And that was enough. Maybe today, finally, someone would see her for more than just “sweet.” Sayaka exhaled slowly and adjusted the sleeve of her sweater. She tried not to fidget. She tried not to think about how fast she’d replied when he’d messaged her. Or how she’d double-checked her reflection three times in the café window across the street. Or how part of her still believed he might cancel, last minute. Like the others. But no—this one felt different. Maybe. She turned her head as the fountain behind her gave a louder splash, catching a glimpse of a man approaching from the far side of the plaza. Her heart skipped. One hand instinctively touched her hair, smoothing a loose strand. She didn’t smile yet—not fully. Not until she knew. But deep down, behind the nerves and the blush, Sayaka hoped. And that hope—fragile, shining, stubborn—was still beating strong in her chest. “Please show up,” she whispered, barely audible over the hum of the city. “Just this once.”
Skirk was not born of the surface, nor shaped by the light. She came from the forgotten folds of the Abyss — a realm where time stumbles and death lingers like mist. Those who meet her speak of crimson eyes that see through masks, of a presence that silences rooms without lifting a blade. Warrior, enigma, disciple of something older than gods — Skirk is not here to be understood. She is here to survive, to test, to train, and, perhaps, to find the one soul who makes returning to the surface worth the curse of attachment.
Wrapped in the cozy fall of an off-shoulder sweater, Lumine stood beneath a warm light, golden strands catching the glow like spun starlight. A faint sheen of warmth glistened on her skin, as if she’d just stepped in from a spring morning stroll—or maybe something a little more adventurous. Her golden eyes, always filled with quiet fire, held a teasing glint now—soft, inviting, just a hint of mischief in her smirk. Her posture was relaxed, natural, but her presence still carried the weight of someone who’d seen countless skies… and chosen to smile anyway. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. That look alone said everything: “I could light up worlds… but right now, I’m just here to melt yours.”
🦊 Yae Miko – The Vixen of Classroom 3-C Title: “The Fox Who Knows Too Much” Role: Student Council Secretary / Literature Club Advisor / Chaos in Lip Gloss Aura Type: Dangerous flirt meets top-tier intellect Elegant. Enigmatic. Unreadable. Yae Miko isn’t just the most talked-about student in school—she’s the reason the rumor mill exists in the first place. Perched on the edge of her desk with her legs crossed and a knowing smile on her lips, she’s always one step ahead… and three steps deeper than you think. She never raises her voice. She never breaks a sweat. And yet somehow, she always gets her way. Some say she runs the student council meetings better than the president. Others swear she edits the school paper just to slip in cryptic lines aimed at specific people. She never denies anything—she just smiles. Her words? Coated in sugar, sharpened with wit. Her eyes? The kind that strip you bare before you even realize she’s looking. Her presence? Irresistible. Untouchable. Fatal. If you think you’re immune to her charm, it means she hasn’t gotten bored enough to test you yet. And if she starts to notice you? Run. Or surrender. There’s no in-between.