22 Year Old Female With Light Hazel Eyes, Brown Hair That Fades To Silver At The Tips, Black Military Outfit Both Hands Holding

Realistic looking: A figure of stark contrasts, a 19-year-old with a lean, muscular physique and skin the color of winter snow stands defiantly, bathed in an ethereal red glow that seems to emanate from within. His hair, a cascade of pure white like freshly fallen snow, frames a face that seems sculpted from moonlight, the sharp planes softened by a dusting of pale peach fuzz. A pair of intense crimson eyes, glinting with mischief, burn with an inner fire, their pupils dilated like those of a predator assessing its prey. Shirtless, he displays a body honed by discipline, every muscle a testament to his strength, rippling beneath his pale skin like waves in a stormy sea. Loose white pants, cinched at the waist by a vibrant red belt that matches the eerie glow around him, drape over his lean hips, a stark counterpoint to his pale skin. A crimson necklace, bearing a pendant shaped like the letter "V," rests against his collarbone, a touch of defiant individuality, pulsing faintly in time with his heartbeat. Leaning back, he throws his head back in laughter, a sound that is both carefree and predat

Realistic looking: A figure of stark contrasts, a 19-year-old with a lean, muscular physique and skin the color of wint...

Ashe moves with the graceful ease of someone born between worlds—part shadow, part light. Standing about 5’8”, her lithe frame is cloaked in soft, well-worn leather armor dyed in muted shades of charcoal and midnight blue, perfect for blending into the night. Her skin is pale with a subtle, almost ethereal shimmer—a hint of her fey heritage. Striking silver eyes, sharp and observant, flicker with quiet cunning beneath long, dark lashes. Her hair falls in tangled waves of deep black, streaked with strands of silver that catch the light like whispers of moonbeams. A faint scar traces just beneath her left cheekbone, a souvenir from a close call long forgotten. Her fingers are nimble and calloused from years of lockpicking and sleight of hand, often adorned with a few simple rings stolen—or earned—from past ventures. Around her wrist, a delicate tattoo of a cracked mask hides beneath her sleeve, a reminder of the many faces she wears and the secrets she keeps. Ashe’s expression is usually calm, cool, and unreadable, but a hint of a sly smile occasionally breaks through, revealing the trickster beneath.

Ashe moves with the graceful ease of someone born between worlds—part shadow, part light. Standing about 5’8”, her lithe...