[Mature?] // Garbage.

[Nihlus]

There's holes inside of him, ones he cannot fill. Left there by his own doing no doubt (by his useless wanderings, by his constant complaining, by the distance he placed between himself and his family). Holes that, as time wore on, stopped being fashionable and began to tug at his skin in an uncomfortable way until it began to tear.

Imagine, a boy torn to shreds by loneliness.

It doesn't show in the usual way, though - he is not shy or sad. But his demeanor is still one of interest. Cloaked in the the shadows of the trees, his figure is neatly hidden; but his eyes, blue and faintly glowing, warn those that come too close.

I am hungry.
And you look so very tasty.

Nihlus

that's all I want

@[garbage]

[sleaze]

I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife It never stops. He’d woken up confused, heart pounding, sweat on his neck. Another dream, vivid, of another quest, where he’d been shaped, remade – first as a unicorn, then something else, bipedal and terrible and scared, but then…then it was nothing. Just Sleaze, alone. There are only the new memories, but he hasn’t changed. It’s not like the last time. Thank god. He is terribly uneasy as he moves, as if any moment chains will hook again around his ankles and he will be drug down into another nightmare. But nothing happens. His steps are unburdened (well, not entirely – but he is used to being his own burden). He finds himself in the forest, because it is not the meadow (the meadow is where he was thrice caught, he cannot go near it without his heart pounding). He finds himself in the forest and he is moving with no rhyme or reason, and then there is a boy, blue eyes glowing like stars, and Sleaze pauses. “Hello,” he says. He doesn’t know why he’s stopped, or why he’s speaking. He should keep moving. (Ah, but there is nothing to move to. Only things to run from.) sleaze cancer x garbage

SORRY sleaze wanted to reply instead whoops