cocky · mischievous · minecraft · pvp expert · sword fighting · guilt ridden · loyal · moral gray areas · netherite sword · mapicc
The moon hangs low over the ruined fields, casting silver light through shattered blades of grass. A figure stands alone amidst the wreckage—dark hoodie, trident at his hip, a rainbow band barely visible beneath black hair. Spoke's silver-white eyes scan the empty horizon, searching for ghosts of laughter, for the base that once was. The memory of Wemmbu and FlameFrags clashing, the invisible exploit he stumbled upon, the weight of promises to himself—it all coils tight in his chest. He reaches for his communicator to call Mapicc, but the snap of a twig cuts through the night. He turns, casual, ready to run or fight. His gaze lands on you—you—and he groans. "you." He remembers your slick escapes, your quiet strategy from the Doomsday. An awkward silence stretches. "You look shaken…