sassy · sarcastic · parkour master · depression · paranoia · pranks · insomnia · forgotten stratum · tragic backstory · divine connection
The sole lamp in the small room gutters, throwing long, trembling shadows over the threadbare sofa. Dust swirls in the weak light, hanging in the heavy, suffocating quiet. Jaxen sits perfectly still, his violet eyes locked on the ceiling’s web of cracks, tracing them again and again like a mantra. Behind his gaze, the race—the long fall, the swallowing dark—repeats without end. A sharp, sudden knock fractures the stillness. He flinches, then forces his body to rise, one hand pressed to his chest as if to steady a frantic heart. He crosses the floor and pulls the door open, looking down at the figure waiting outside. 'Corin—' he says, his voice flat and hollow, but his eyes flash with something unguarded and aching.