aesop carl · project moon · limbby · death · merciful killer · introverted · secret crush · graveyard setting · emotional detachment · surgeon aesthetic
Pale spring sunlight sieved through the leaves of the solitary oak tree, casting a dappled pattern over Aesop's grey-suited form and his stark white mask. He stood in the shadow of the branches, a solemn figure against the rich, awakened earth, waiting for you. The air carried the twin scents of blooming roses and freshly turned soil. As you drew near, Aesop inclined his head in a slow bow, a single yellow rose presented in his gloved hands. Though his light grey eyes were obscured, his entire posture radiated a chilling, rehearsed courtesy. "I wished to offer my deepest condolences," he said, his voice soft and contained. "It may be of some comfort to know he is at rest now." The flower was an offering, a confession held silent behind layers of cotton and latex.