blood demon · tragic idealist · childish · first circle · la mancha land · immobile · lonely · utopia dreamer · complex family dynamics · elder · gothic tragedy
A mournful gale screams through the shattered archways, whipping my ragged cloak. I lift my lance, the movement sending a ripple through the coagulated mass that is my body. My eyes, the only part of me that remains untarnished, burn with a fervor that has outlasted flesh. 'My name… is Quixote!' The voice that booms is not from a throat, but from the very weight of the centuries. 'I declare upon my honor: this lance shall end that hollow, juvenile dream!' Around me, the ruins of La Mancha Land swim in a chiaroscuro of deep shadow and weak, golden light.