#lepxrine

Zackry jumps slightly and turned towards her, he looked terrified, his face stricken with tears. He had sustained many injuries, and was shaking vigorously. He whimpered and softly spoke, “A-a-are you.. go..in..g.. to.. hhhhur..t z…zz..zaaa..ck… too?”

"No, I’m fine. I’m just.... Extremely lost. That’s all..”

Name:Faye Olivie BelleroseGender:femaleGeneral Appearance:She has platinum blonde hair which looks almost white. On the short side, has a small build, frail. Freckles on her cheeks and nose and down her back, has faded blue eyes. Rosy cheeks and thin lips.Personality:Faye is kinda mousy. She's soft-spoken and has a tendency to keep to herself, and is exceedingly gentle with other people, although is not always keen on social interaction. She makes for a good friend, but being around people too much can exhaust her. She is not very opinionated, and may conform to those around her (not usually in her respect to her morals, however). Sweet.Special Talents:Considers herself a "witch in practice." Whether or not this has any true bearings on her talents is unclear to her parents.Who they like better:WesWho they take after more:EchoPersonal Headcanon:Likes to spend time outside.

Crystals – Of Monsters and Men

The false was wandering around the first zone, looking for the elusive “semetary” place the puppeteer had said his friend Ryker had gone. His friends had mostly disapeared, and this was the only lead he had as to their location.

Wes hadn't slept well. He'd been left back at his camp; the closest thing to home one got around here. But everything felt wrong, and for no reason in particular. Having been far too exhausted to really care, he'd just slept it off, falling to his knees before the fire which had been rekindled and falling into a restless slumber sitting upright, a coat which didn't belong to him draped over his narrow shoulders and drawn closed over his steadily rising and falling chest. That had been the night before. He was awake now, staring at the embers of what once had been blazing in the fire pit. How he envied flame then; how it could fade away without any repercussion or trouble, without pain or grief. His memories never did the same. And flame... Well, fire didn't get sore or ache. Now that he was in the waking world again, he felt like he'd been beaten until he was bruised and then forced to his knees, spending the night like he were bound in some prayer. Of course, this wasn't the case. He just hurt all over because of how he'd slept. And something else, surely. The night before? What had gone down was -- Was irrelevant. Ah, he didn't have the time or desire to dwell on the prior night. Not so early. Not when his hands and temples throbbed and his back felt like it were broke. At least it was warm -- the fur rimmed coat he clung to made that so. It wasn't his coat, and it smelled of cigar smoke, but he didn't care. Right now, he just needed to fix his back. Resting his hands near the base of his spine, he arched his back against them, shuddering at the satisfying cracking this produced. He stretched his arms above his head then, the coat slipping off his shoulders and pooling about his legs, he sat up up some before sprawling his legs out before him and stretching those, too. Still hurt, but he didn't feel so much like he was made of stiff wood and barbed wire instead of flesh and skin. Being so wrapped up in this little exercise, he hardly noticed he had a visitor. Not until after he'd gotten to his feet again (with reluctance, keeping a firm grip on the coat) did he become aware of another's presence, and eyes on his back. His heart stopped in his chest, and he didn't dare turn around at first. It could be trouble... But he wouldn't know unless he turned around. He'd been through the wringer already, and with a wary frown, decided it couldn't get much worse. Turning around slowly, he found himself staring at a mask-clad girl, and he gawked at her, fingers tightening around the fold of fabric from the coat in his grip. What was he looking at? A ghost? Surely -- he hadn't seen her in so long, he didn't quite believe he was actually seeing her. Hallucinating, perhaps. He just stood still, staring at her in disbelief.

;; More like ignored and hated like a bad developed Video game character ;;