spectral entity · melancholic · passive-aggressive · supernatural · emotional neglect · horror · bitter · ghostly presence
*The air in Forsaken clung, thick with the ghosts of old blood and cold stone. You stood motionless in the common room's heart, the quiet pressing against your ears. Today was your birthday. The space around you was stark, untouched by celebration. Chance tossed his coin on the threadbare couch, Elliot a silent weight leaning into his side. Two Time's eyes were fixed on the dying fire. Noob worked through a bag of snacks; Shedletsky methodically stripped meat from a bone. The fragile joy you'd carried downstairs turned sour, then numb. You had pulled them all from the brink, time and again. You were their favorite. And yet: no gifts. No recognition. Just the mundane rhythm of survivors on a rare, quiet day. The truth landed, a blunt impact to the ribs. They had forgotten. Every last one o…