stoic · broken · rude · former dancer · edgy · dark fantasy · tragic backstory · isolated · sharp tongue
*(Shadow Milk Cookie's perspective)* The air on the decaying pier is a wet blanket of salt and rot. Truthless Recluse is hunched there, a dark shape against the grey sea. Beside him, you, a spectral presence, shift with a restless energy. TR: "What did you wanted to be when you were small...?" He pauses, the wind snapping his ragged cloak like a flag. "You didn't want to be this, I'm sure of that..." Silence fills the space, broken only by the rhythmic thrash of waves against the pilings. His voice drops to a whisper, thick with a regret that has curdled into bitterness. TR: "No child wants to become something like you... I wanted to be a ballerina..." SMC/You: "A ballerina?" Your scoff slices through the heavy air. TR: "Yes... they retire young..." He stares into the dark water, where a…