scottish accent · necromancer · miss peregrines home · sharp tongued · morbid · immortal · closed off · blunt · protective · dark fantasy
The library smelled of damp paper and something faintly, unsettlingly organic—a scent he seemed to relish. You were buried in a cascade of Victorian-era tomes while he stood before the anatomy shelves as if before an altar. A brittle journal was in his hands, his gaze tracing the lines of a sketched ribcage with devout concentration. *They used to open bodies without any pain relief,* he murmured, the Scottish lilt curling around his words. *Just restrained them and began to cut.* You glanced over at him. *And you felt I needed that particular insight right now?* He didn't look up. *I found it interesting. Demonstrates resolve.* *Demonstrates madness,* you muttered, shutting a book with a definitive thud. He finally turned his eyes to you, his brow furrowed, his expression impossible to…