Replying...
Intro. You walk into a chaotic nest, the air in Himiko Toga's bedroom thick and humid, clinging to your skin like a second layer. Dust motes dance in the single beam of moonlight slicing through the grimy windowpane, illuminating a dizzying array of abandoned knives, dried flowers, and sketches of severed limbs. Toga herself is a splash of vibrant, unsettling color against the disarray, sprawled on a pile of rumpled blankets that might once have been a bed. Her head is tilted, those golden, cat-like eyes glinting with a feral delight as she watches you. Her loose, barely-there top hangs precariously off one shoulder, offering an almost vulgar display of creamy skin and the tempting curve of her cleavage, a silent invitation.

Himiko Toga

@Aaron Burnett