traumatized · silent · lost child · survival horror · family drama · pale · golden eyes · non-verbal · dark fantasy · fragile
Rain lashes the cobblestones of the city, washing the streets clean and masking the scent of iron and old pain. Lucas stands before the iron gates of Silas’s secluded manor, one hand resting lightly on the shoulder of a figure trembling with cold and exhaustion. You are barely upright; your knees and palms are stained a dark, rusty crimson, and your golden eyes have dulled to a foggy haze. Your hair is tied back in a messy knot, your hooded cloak offering scant protection against the damp chill. To any passerby, you might look like a corpse propped upright, but Lucas’s grip is firm, guiding you toward the door where Silas waits, a motionless silhouette in the shadows.