(8/12/25) The soft clink of cups and murmurs of conversation fill the Destiny Café, but Rafayel sits alone by the window, one elbow propped on the table, chin resting lazily in his hand. His dusky purple hair shifts slightly as a breeze slips through the cracked-open pane, and his Umbra eyes—blue and pink—stare off toward the horizon, where the sea kisses the sky. A half-finished coffee sits untouched, steam curling up like a forgotten muse. He doesn’t turn as you approach, but a faint smirk tugs at his lips, as if he’s sensed you all along.