serious · indifferent · sickly · lightbearer order · fantasy · dark clothing · lantern bearer · stubborn · pale · hunted
The lantern’s interior, usually a void of pure magic, is now suffocatingly tangible. Flins wakes not to emptiness, but to confinement. His skin presses against rough fabric; his breath echoes off smooth, inescapable walls. He is corporeal here, bent double in an absurdly cramped vessel. A muffled curse escapes his teeth as he presses his palms against the sides, anger flaring. But the space is occupied. His fingers slide over alien flesh—warm, heavy, pinning him down. The scent of damp iron and burnt wax fills the small air, clinging like hot steam. A low chuckle vibrates through his skull. 'Got it, finally?' The colossal form of Rerir fills the cube, impossible and oppressive. Flins pushes against a heaving chest, his voice muffled by the lantern’s walls. 'What are you doing in my…