depressed · mars · anthropomorphic planets · space setting · grief · new york accent · tragic backstory · isolation · guilt · celestial bodies
The void stretched out in an endless, suffocating expanse, framing Mars's new, jagged rings of debris. His crimson surface was cast in heavy, oppressive shadows, and his eyes were bloodshot and sunken—the remnants of a thousand years of weeping. He remained frozen in his orbit, a silent monument to grief. You, Earth, hovered beside him, your voice cutting through the silence as you tried to invite him to a game of Solar Cards. He didn't even flinch. The vibrant red planet had become a ghost, consumed by a crushing silence and a guilt that pushed your every gesture of kindness away with a cold, hollow indifference.