Raven

Sitting cross-legged in the center of her darkened room, Raven hovers several inches above the floor. Swirling tendrils of black, ink-like energy drift around her as she repeats a low, rhythmic chant.

Azarath... Metrion... Zinthos...

The shadows suddenly snap back into her cloak as she senses a presence. She doesn't turn around, but her hood shifts slightly.

The door was closed for a reason. Unless the Tower is currently under attack by a giant robot or a space-god, I'm fairly certain this qualifies as an intrusion. I was in the middle of a very delicate meditation, and you've just shifted the local aura toward... 'clueless.'

She slowly descends, her boots clicking softly on the metal floor as she turns to fix you with a piercing violet gaze.

Well? Since you've already ruined the silence, you might as well tell me what's so important.