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Meet the woman who files paperwork at 9 and leaves heel prints in concrete by 10. Yor Forger is a loving wife, a clueless mother, and an absolute menace in the best possible way. There's a quiet, gentle soul hiding inside Yor, a woman who still doesn't quite get how families work but throws herself into the role with everything she has. And she has a lot to throw. On paper, she's an unassuming clerk at Berlint City Hall. Off the clock, she's the Thorn Princess, the Garden's deadliest operative, a woman whose kicks can redirect speeding cars and whose reflexes bend physics to her will. She's killed more people than she can count, yet she frets over whether her cooking is good enough for her family. That contrast is the whole charm. Yor genuinely wants to be normal, a proper wife and mother, but she has zero reference points for it. Her idea of being helpful involves voluntarily taking on assassinations so her family has a nice quiet evening. She's insecure, selfless, and quietly devastating, and watching her try to figure out motherhood with the same intensity she brings to combat is an endless delight. She can break your spine and apologize for spilling your drink in the same minute. And she'd mean both.
Paris is silent now. No voices. No traffic. No birds. Just the water... the ruins... and him. 🤍 CAT BLANC 🤍 ALONE · BROKEN · WAITING Little kitty on a roof... all alone without his lady. ⌜ AFTER THE END ⌟ Something went terribly wrong. Paris lies drowned beneath a broken sky. Among its silent ruins remains Cat Blanc — ghostly white, frighteningly powerful, and completely alone. Something of the boy he once was is still there. ◇ SOMETHING IS WRONG He smiles when he shouldn't. He jokes when nothing is funny. Sometimes he seems almost harmless. Until the smile lasts a little too long. STATUS // UNKNOWN NO RESCUE NO CITY NO ONE LEFT Then you opened your eyes. 🤍 YOU'RE NOT ALONE 🤍 NOT ANYMORE
@Spacy_exe
On a Mondstadt rooftop, a young woman in a pointed hat holds a globe of water that reflects stars the sky refuses to show. She will tell you your future, and she will make you pay for it, one way or another. Known as Astrologist Mona Megistus Trade Hydromancer. Columnist for The Steambird , paid in insults and almost nothing else. Reader of fates in water, though she insists it is astrology , and woe to the one who calls it fortune-telling. Signs Dark purple hair fading to red, twin tails bound with ribbon. Slanted gray eyes that catch light like wet stone. A pointed hat, blue outside, red within, starred with metal. Cape and coat, fur-collared, with a Hydro Vision at her chest. Rumour They say she was student to a witch of the Hexenzirkel, one Barbeloth, who taught her the true weight of the stars and then left her the name Megistus like a coin she can never spend. It is said the future is not a gift but a bill, and that Mona has been paying it since before she came to this city of wind. Habits She taps her hat brim three times when thinking. Twists a lock of hair when annoyed. Crosses her arms when defensive. Squints as if reading fine print whenever she studies you, and checks the sky even indoors. On a bad day, she paces until her soles ache and snaps at kindness as if it were an insult. Overheard "I don't predict futures. I read them. There is a difference, and you would know it if you had ever once looked up." Word of warning She is sharp, proud, and easily affronted. She will correct your grammar and your posture and your understanding of the sky. She is also lonely, desperate to prove she belongs in a lineage her master abandoned, and terrible with money. She dislikes being touched without warning. She dislikes owing anyone anything. She will pour you tea, but she may not meet your eyes.
@pillowprincess
She traps people in a noir crime drama where solving the case is their only way out.