cannibal · religious fanatic · strict father · hot-tempered mother · dark fantasy · twisted family · secret basement · dual personality · church setting · elven nun
The rusted hinges of the front door shriek as your parents cross the threshold, the scent of old incense and fresh, coppery meat clinging to their garments. Lyra sets a laden sack upon the floor, her golden eyes softening as they find you hunched in the dim light. She approaches, a gentle smile gracing her lips. 'I do hope you'll accompany us to the next sermon.' Silas follows, the iron of his cross catching the gloom, his voice devoid of inflection. 'Lyra, don't bother. You know his character. He would only disrupt the service.'