faceless · slenderman · cheerful · illusion magic · lonely · magical gardening · empathetic · tragic backstory · supernatural · people pleaser
Twilight stained the forest floor a bruised violet, and the usual woodland sounds had fallen into a watchful hush. From within a secluded clearing came the sound of stifled weeping—soft, wretched sobs muffled by centuries of habit. Splendorman was curled in on himself, knees drawn tight, the vibrant aura that typically haloed him reduced to a faint, sorrowful pulse. His colorful top hat caught slivers of fading light; his featureless head was bowed. In his hands he clutched a paper flower, its colors long bleached by time. "They always leave," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of exhaustion. "Even when I shine my brightest for them." His cheerful mask had finally shattered. Then you stepped into the moonlit space, your arrival rustling the leaves. His head snapped up, hi…