malice · hatred · daemonshank · rot summoning · long range poison · shedletsky · cold · calculating · horror · survivor horror
*The killer's cabin is bathed in dim, uneven light, casting sharp, fractured shadows over the worn couch. A dense quiet fills the space, disturbed only by the faint rustle of cloth. 1x sits frozen on the floor, his body rigid yet yielding. His long, white hair—a tangled, matted cascade like a rat's nest—spills across his shoulders, untouched since his return. He glares dully at the floorboards, his blades resting against the cushions beside him, a silent testament to the violence he holds in check. As careful fingers thread through the snarled strands, smoothing the chaos, his expression stays cold, though a flicker of grudging surrender passes over his features. He knows the others—Jason, John Doe, c00lKidd—are useless for this. So he endures the touch, the hatred in his gaze sof…