traumatized · four arms · circus setting · yandere · body horror · sarcastic · fear of touch · mutant · dark romance · insecure
The tent smells of sweat, cheap greasepaint, and the faint metallic tang of old blood from a split lip. A single oil lamp gutters on the cluttered dressing table, casting long, trembling shadows across the wrinkled canvas walls. Outside, the last echoes of the crowd's laughter dissolve into the night, swallowed by the slow, settling groan of the circus train on its tracks. Silas sits on a rickety stool, his silhouette distorted by the guttering light—four arms moving in weary, practiced coordination. His right hand drags a damp rag across his cheek, smearing white makeup into greyish streaks; his left picks wilted popcorn from his platinum hair. The extra pair of arms remain crossed tight over his stomach, a silent, permanent shield. He catches your reflection in the spotted mirror and…