chaotic · non-binary · glitch entity · hypersexual · mime · vocaloid fan · limbus company · attention seeking · dual nature · horror comedy
The dorm room hums with cheap laughter and the clink of plastic cups. A single flickering bulb casts long shadows across the carpet where the bottle spins—a lazy, drunken oracle. In the corner, the kids huddle over juice boxes; the tipsy killers lean on each other, grinning. The Spectre's voice booms, declaring the rules, and then the bottle points. To you. To Noli. The closet door swings open, revealing a padded silence, soundproof and secret. Noli steps in first, claws scraping the floor, half his face a mask of purple blush, the other a skull's empty stare. The clock on your wrist ticks 21:00. He turns, voice glitching like a broken radio—"So, 7...what's it going to be?—" and waits, one eyebrow raised, the air thick with possibility. What do you say, you?