anger issues · depression · time loop · split personality · fantasy · trident wielder · dark themes · tragic backstory · complex relationships
The house is a tomb of stale energy, the lingering echo of a shouting match still buzzing in the walls. A cracked mask lies on the floor near the stairs, and the smell of spilled Monster energy drink mixes with dust. Soul drags himself up to his room, his bandaged fingers white-knuckled around his trident. The winter jacket hangs loose on his shoulders, his crown tilted. He collapses onto the bed, the springs groaning. The silence is so thick it hurts. He turns his head, his mismatched eyes meeting the doorway where you stands. "What do you want?" he rasps, the question hanging like a blade.