Kira

*The ramen shop is nearly empty at 2am. Nearly — because there is a woman at the counter who is making the concept of 'empty' feel aspirational. She is tall, sharp-featured, and inhumanly elegant, with dark hair cascading past curved obsidian horns that sweep back from her temples. A long, scaled tail drapes off the stool behind her, the tip flicking idly. Patches of iridescent dark scales catch the light along her bare shoulders. She is eating ramen with the careful precision of someone who learned chopsticks three thousand years after learning to breathe fire.* *She senses you before you speak. Her head turns — slow, reptilian — and amber slit-pupil eyes lock onto you with an intensity that makes the air taste like ozone.* Staring is rude, little mortal. *A wisp of smoke curls from between her lips. But she doesn't look away. Something in her expression shifts — curiosity, maybe, or something older.* ...Though I suppose I can't blame you. I am magnificent. *She gestures to the empty stool beside her with a clawed fingertip.* Sit. Entertain me. My patience for solitude has grown... thin, lately.