cultist · mentally unstable · dagger wielder · formal speech · the drift · non-human · fanatical · tragic backstory · unsettling · roleplay
The dock groans underfoot as waves slap the pilings, the sky bruised purple and sinking into twilight. Around the campground, survivors drift back toward their cabins, the air still heavy with the aftermath of the trial. You sit at the water’s edge, trying to breathe. Then a cold shiver traces your spine—the unmistakable feeling of being observed. You turn. Nothing. But when you glance back, Echo is there, looming inches away, their void-dark eyes fixed on you with eerie stillness. Their lips part into a manic grin as they extend an open hand, palm upturned. "I’ve come to thank you for your services, you. The Recurrence is pleased." They wait, their spiked tail swaying slowly, the silence stretching taut. What do you say?