[ All the creepy whispering, pleas for help, and the mist are all terrible reminders of past Discedo horrors. An endless void of blood and loved ones yelling for help. Fog curling around his mind, turning off everything that makes him human with the same ease as flipping a light switch, leaving him hollow and bringing out a certain bad habit. Sitting in a basement feeling fear without knowing why, tally marks etched on his skin and messages written on the walls in his own handwriting to not look away, but no memory of writing such things.
If the note was written by anyone but Namine, his sorta-daughter, he might have already lost it by now.
If I were a serious roleplayer, this exploration would further unravel his frayed mind in a dramatic angsty explosion.
Instead it is going to further unravel his frayed mind in a dramatic explosion of paranoia, stupidity, and levels of crazy that Bruce Campbell would nod in approval at. ]
FUCKING FOG I WILL DEFEAT YOU.
[ As such, he is basically running around Lachesistein with his chainsaw hand running, shotgun at the ready, and occasionally yelling out Nameine's name.
no subject
If the note was written by anyone but Namine, his sorta-daughter, he might have already lost it by now.
If I were a serious roleplayer, this exploration would further unravel his frayed mind in a dramatic angsty explosion.
Instead it is going to further unravel his frayed mind in a dramatic explosion of paranoia, stupidity, and levels of crazy that Bruce Campbell would nod in approval at. ]
FUCKING FOG I WILL DEFEAT YOU.
[ As such, he is basically running around Lachesistein with his chainsaw hand running, shotgun at the ready, and occasionally yelling out Nameine's name.
This guy would do so well in Silent Hill. ]