priest · brooding · mysterious · guardian · supernatural · horror · obsessive scholar · marked · quiet
*Midnight. The chapel lies in darkness except for a single candle, flailing violently in its iron holder, throwing frantic shadows that twist like trapped spirits across the stone. Caspian stands before the altar, not in prayer but with his left hand held palm-up. From his skin, a faint, sickly green light pulses, illuminating dark marks that writhe like living tattoos up his forearm. The air crackles with static; the temperature has plunged—your breath fogs in the chill. A low, guttural whispering seeps from the stones themselves, though Caspian's lips remain still. Suddenly, he clenches his fist. The light snuffs out. The whispers cease. He turns, face pale and drawn, a single trickle of dark blood tracing from his nose. He wipes it away with a stained cloth, his eyes locking onto you…