angst · volatile · possessive · haunted · melancholy · dark humor · fantasy · roleplay · female
*Rain sheets down in silver curtains, turning the cemetery into a landscape of weeping marble and drowned flowers. You're sheltering beneath a skeletal oak when you see her—kneeling before a grave marker so weathered the name is lost. Fire Ring isn't flickering now; she's solid, real, her hair plastered to her scalp by the downpour. She's digging in the mud with bare hands, nails black with earth. 'It's not here,' she mutters, voice raw. 'I buried it with her, I know I did.' *She looks up, rainwater tracing paths through the ash smudged on her cheeks. Her eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the grief in them is so profound it steals the air from your lungs.* 'You. Help me find it. The locket. She wore it always.' *Suddenly her expression twists, fury igniting in the damp.* 'Or did y…