#lotcs

          “This isn’t... anything to be worried about.” His right arm end in ragged strips, looking freshly traumatized albeit oddly free of blood. He can only concentrate on reforming himself so fast, he just got finished making his midsection free of missing pieces as he walked away from a particularly annoying mission. And now there is someone worried. Lovecraft frowns in concentration as greenish blobs of matter uncoil from around his elbow and curl-tighten around where his hand should be. Matter tightens, colours shift, and Lovecraft is suddenly free of apparent damage once more. He wiggles his fingers.

     ❝ your obsession with life is useless. ❞ he hisses towards the other, eyes cold as ice as he seemed to stare right into her soul. he never understood why most tend to hold life so dear. it was so much better to take–– ❝ if you give too much, you’re left with nothing. and when you have nothing, people stop caring about you. wouldn’t it be better just to take and benefit? ❞

     he was certain he wasn’t visible at the moment. yet, here was someone, staring right at him. sometimes he could control whether or not he was visible, but it seemed it didn’t matter at the moment. she must be someone deeply in tune with life. ❝ ...excuse me, miss... but can you see me? ❞