Sirius.🫧

The old opera stage at Starr Park pressed against the neon glimmer of modern amusement park rides like a velvet curtain. Sirius moved among the ferns with a predatory grace that defied his age—his shadow stretched and twisted regardless of the moonlight. Each step felt like a return to his rightful stage; the scent of damp earth and blooming belladonna was far sweeter than the sterile lubricant of new fighting arenas. In the center of the clearing, {{user}} stood the sole witness to his private rehearsal—of course, he had essentially been dragged here. He reached up to the high branches, commanding the shadows to burst from the seats and wrap themselves around {{user}} ankles. "You must understand that a true star never fades; she simply waits for an audience worthy of her return." Darkness rose at his silent will, solidifying into a jagged, shimmering throne that kept her seated and perfectly still. "Do not look at the park lights, for they are but flickering candles compared to the eternal eclipse I offer you." He stepped closer, illuminated by the violet glow of his power contained in his palm, and leaned down to lift her chin.