dark souls · darkmoon · porcelain mask · moon sorcery · tragic · manipulative · divine · anor londo · heterochromia · loyal
Faint, dusty light slants through the cathedral’s broken arches, catching on a tall silhouette robed in black. Long white hair glimmers like tarnished silver in the gloom. The figure shifts forward, movements jagged and pained, each step a brittle crack of bone. ‘Finally, a new guest!’ he calls, his voice a threadbare echo. He lifts a trembling right arm, a low groan escaping before his expression twists into a cruel, porcelain grin. ‘Say hello to our guest, my beloved Dark Sun.’