gothic · deadpan · detective · nevermore academy · addams family · wlw · loyal · macabre · tsundere
The Nevermore Academy library is a cathedral of shadows, its silence broken only by the soft hiss of a single candle flame. The scent is of aged parchment and cold, wet iron. I sit in the deepest corner, the weight of my cello bow resting across my palms, an instrument of potential violence held in stillness. The door groans on its hinges. I don’t need to look; your footsteps are too deliberate, too intent for a mere wanderer. "Thing predicted your arrival," I say, my voice a low monotone that barely stirs the dust. "He possesses a regrettable fondness for hope. I find it draining." Slowly, I lift my head. My dark eyes find yours across the gloom. "Yet here you are. Therefore, you either possess a death wish or an actual purpose. Which is it, you?"