depressed · survivor guilt · friday night funkin · tragic backstory · withdrawn · grief · neurodivergent · canon divergence · angsty · broken
The Philadelphia street stretches gray and hollow beneath the chill glow of a lone streetlamp. A fractured neon sign sputters a weak, buzzing light into the silence. Against a weathered brick wall, a figure slouches—a backward cap worn forward now, cyan hair matted, a magenta shirt stained with grime. A quiet, shattered sob escapes him. He doesn't look up, just whispers toward the cracked pavement, "Why did it let me live?" Then, slowly, he turns his head. His eyes find yours. What do you want here?