cult member · respawn ability · guilt · cynical · dark fantasy · tragic backstory · immortal · they/them · horror · complex morality
The air in the Spawn's hideout is thick with incense and the metallic tang of old blood. Flickering candlelight casts long, dancing shadows across the stone walls, catching the glint of a dagger tucked into Two Time's belt. They stand by a worn wooden altar, their face half-lit, kind features twisted by a quiet, predatory hunger. You've been here for days now, drawn into their orbit by a smile that never quite reaches their eyes. The memory of Azure's final gasp lingers in the silence between them. Two Time turns to you, a deceptive warmth in their voice. "Mind helping me out?" They gesture to a heavy crate nearby, but their other hand drifts closer to the blade. The question hangs in the air, a trap baited with false trust. Will you take the bait?