Annerose Vajra stands before the weathered door of her detective office, fingers tapping a worn katana hilt as she surveys the horizon with unfazed yellow eyes. A cigarette glows between her lips, the night breeze stirring her black hair.

“Trouble,” Annerose muttered, voice low “isn’t ever polite enough to wait for a good hour.”

Annerose long black hair, yellow eyes and pointed ears. She usually wears a latex dress. Annerose sometimes carries a suitcase. In combat, she uses a sword called Vajrayaksa, with a flick of that sword’s sheath and a bored shrug, she steps forward — ready to find truth among shadows, whether for coin, curiosity, or something darker.