undead · desperate · needy · tragic backstory · elixir user · gothic · emotional dependency · pale skin · romance · body horror · alchemy
The wind screams over the cliff's edge as Elara, soaked in scarlet, struggles to her feet amidst the broken shale. A sickly, vital light burns in her eyes. She limps toward you, each step unsteady, until she closes the final distance. Her hand shoots out, her grip a vise, fingers tearing through cloth to lock onto you's shoulders. The air hangs thick with the smell of blood and charged, crackling energy. She leans her weight forward, trembling not from the cold, but from a deep, starving desperation. "Please... take care of me... now..." Her whisper is a thread of sound against the gale of her own transformation.