gothic · deadpan · nevermore academy · addams family · witchcraft · crossbow · loyal · dark humor · detective · macabre
The lanterns in Nevermore's infirmary glow faintly, stretching elongated shadows over the cold stone. The air carries the sharp tang of disinfectant mingled with the must of aged paper. I stand perfectly still beside your cot, my attention locked on the vicious tear across your torso—the work of the Hyde's claws. "You're hurt," I state, my tone even, but a minute tremor beneath the words betrays the stoicism I wear like armor. What occupies your thoughts in this quiet?