˚꩜｡

-

˚꩜｡ The Wraith - Philip Ojomo

Dead By Daylight RP ˚꩜｡

18+ Only • Violence/Gore Mentioned {In-Game Universe Related}

Please reread to find out more information.

Image from: bamadbd

2017 me would've been so excited.

There was a momentary relief when Wraith agreed to be helped. When he had chosen not to maintain the status quo and carry on with his grim task of hunting and killing. Felix nodded, rising and dusting himself off before jogging off to find his med kit.

He skirted away from the front of the shop. He could see Nea was still there, talking to the other two. None of them seem bothered to search for him or Wraith. One of them pointed off towards a generator by a hill, the obvious question of what to do next fresh in their minds. Felix kept jogging past, disappearing into the stacks of cars. He had left his med kit by the shack, near the door, just in case.

Philip wasn't entirely bothered by the inquiry, but he'd be a liar if he didn't admit the query vexed him deeply.

Truthfully, he had always been slightly boisterous verbal individual before the fog consumed him. His thoughts were known by all, rarely holding back what he'd felt and deemed right. Moral greys frustrated him; quick to the draw with his already-formulated opinion on matters before him.

Embers of his spark only began simmering down when he had reached America. A desperate attempt to not draw attention and blend in with the locals he was stuck with. Blended together with the desecration of his village in Nigeria, it was almost the perfect concoction to render Philip completely speechless.

However, contrary to popular belief, his language autonomy was still well within his own clutch. Some would call his stubbornness unruly, on the other hand he considered it necessary for survival. Unwillingly, he had his verbal speech rendered utterly unusable, yet he developed other solutions almost seemingly in a flash.

The first sting comes, a loud banshee-like growl escapes his mouth following. His hands raise though as he slowly conducts them in a synchronized rhythm.

TALK-I-CAN'T

Philip's signage is rusty due to a lack of recent practice, but learning, although basic, Sign during his brief life in America was something he'll always be gracious for. The stinging infected his leg with needles of pain, yet his stubbornness persevered.

UNDERSTAND-YOU-DO?

When he saw Wraith's hands working in the corner of his vision, he paused and tried to watch closer. Sign language? Felix's brow furrowed, his mind stretching. He had only picked up the barest dregs of the language to interact with a client on a specific project.

Mostly he could apologise and identify family and weather conditions. And use the alphabet.

N-O. SORRY.

He thought for a second. It would require patience, but it wasn't like the Entity would afford this kind of opportunity very often.

L-E-T-T-E-R-S. SLOWER PLEASE.

A sparked memory brought a flush of red to Felix's face as he returned his focus back to Wriath's leg to finish and bind the wrapping. Much like with his mute, American client back then, he was suddenly reminded that muteness did not imply deafness. Wraith had clearly heard him.

"S-sorry. I can try to follow if you sign the letters."

He set Wraith's leg gingerly down, crouching back on his haunches to close up the med kit.

A tinge of hope glistened between the sharps of pain as he watched Felix's attempt to keep up. Had he not been wallowing in his own affliction already, he would've expressed a laugh-like noise upon noticing the red smear the survivor's cheeks. Instead, all he could offer was a sheepish smile; it'd been a great bit before someone newer personally to him saw it.

@thatcatghostinred

An unnatural-sounding chuckle noise sounded as he gleamed at The Ghostface.

It wasn't a laugh of tease, moreso a joyous expression of amusement for the other. Philip knelt down, finding the perfect patch of soil to use as his canvas.

His finger dug into the Earth, dragging along as he constructed each loop and curve of his name.

'Philip Ojomo' he had wrote.

Mimicking Dani's earlier explanation, he underlined the singular 'l' presented in his own name. Once finished, he stood straight up again, cleaning the dirt off his finger before guesturing towards the letters in the soil.

He watched as the man knelt in the dirt eyes full of curiosity it did kill The cat after all . He secretly hoped it would be a fun drawing, almost entirely forgetting he had asked him his name.

So when the name appeared in the dirt Dani had remembered about the question he had asked. He looked at the name and watched the "I" got underlined. It amused Dani that he did so.

In many killer's eyes, at least those that belonged to the ones who closely knew Philip anyway, he was truly a gentle giant of a beast. He still had an unnerving presence from his natural form, but the fog seemed to fade the moment anyone interacted.

Perhaps the more tranquil environment now provided an additional unusual calm. A smile pursed his lips, eyes glowing with humored peace. Philip was secretly pleased the other enjoyed his humor he rarely got to express.

The silence was notated by Philip, only for the amusement to continue with Dani's questioning. Memory was something Philip had been fortunate to be blessed with regarding mathematics and the finer details.

But even with that in his mind, he'd be fibbing if he dared say he didn't have tricks of his own to remember reoccurring thoughts. Philip's however were dealt in pictures painted in his mind rather than words and text. Still he humored the other, gesturing with his hands for the other to go on.

Dani's smile spread as he watched the kitty drawing appear in the dirt. He then put a hand on his chin as if thinking. "Hmmm... let's go with Embers! You know since you appear in embers and disappear into them!"

It's extremely simple, but got the point across on how Wraith associated Dani...

At least he hoped so anyways.

Philip turns back towards Dani, eyes beaming with a heartfelt glee at the name chosen. Usually he'd hear survivors whisper names influenced by the Entity's corrupted perception he's forced to play. While within the same view, it seemed more joyous.

There wasn't a trial where surviors didn't curse something under their lips; from 'banshee' to somehow sillier ones like 'Mr. Bing Bong'...

But something about the simplicity of 'Embers' felt different.

It was true; he disappeared within the Entity's embers of his powers bestowed into his father's bell. Philip tried not to acknowledge the fact that much, but maybe this was an escape for his mind; to view it in a light hearted way.