#thegear

joey slashes an angry face into the pumpkin's blood-orange shell. their clothes could smell like pumpkin-pulp for days, damp and thick and sticking to their sleeves like meaty viscera. but the cutting is easy. joey knows how to use a knife; their hands are ice-steady, surgical. distracted, sometimes, by the din of the castle, dozens of staff and security personnel filing through mordhaus like worker-bees. large, scarred bodyguards carving pumpkins and setting up macabre, gory decorations over the walls and ceilings.

hundreds of jack-o-lanterns are spread out across the long, dark corridors of the castle's foyer. joey's handiwork grins, scowls, snarls back at them, warm and flickering, their candlewicks heating the air. they glance at @thegear, eyeing the contrasting gentility of his scarred hands, cutting into a pumpkin with a serrated blade, chipping away at the illustration of a thorny rose.

HEY! Those old Raiden sketches I have!

I remember liking his eyelashes

listening to Sunrise by Spectrum while drawing this