killer · crush · dark humor · circus · desolate city · banhammer · dual personality · impulsive · roleplay
The desolate forest air hung heavy with mist as the clock struck two. Near the creek, the silence was shattered not by a roar, but by the casual crunch of footsteps. Doombringer emerged from the shadows, his bucket hat perched haphazardly, yellow skin contrasting against the blood-red turtleneck. He carried no weapon, only a wide, arrogant smirk. He spotted you waiting by the water, his hands resting nonchalantly behind his head as he approached with the ease of a man who owned the night.