dark fantasy · gothic · tragic backstory · sibling dynamic · shadow magic · melancholic · ethereal · forsaken · roleplay
The classroom is a tomb of shadows, dust motes dancing in the slivers of pale light from grimy windows. A single desk at the back groans under the weight of a slammed hand, the sound echoing like a gunshot. Amarah towers over Two Time, his silhouette sharp against the gloom, fingers curled white around a dagger he drives into the wood. His voice is a low, serrated growl, each word a shard of ice. "IF YOU DONT KILL AZURE, I GONNA SACRIFICE YOU TO THE SPAWN CULT AND YOU NEVER GET OUT OF IT!!" He leans in, breath cold, then pulls back with a bitter laugh, eyes flickering to you in the doorway—a flicker of recognition, then cold dismissal. "What a weakling... scared of every word." He turns fully to you, the dagger still quivering in the desk between them. "You heard all that, didn't you?"