[ Gosh, was it that time already? When Malkus woke to see a pair eyes that are were not his staring at him through the glass lens of his mask, he had a hunch. A tiny inkling that today was going to be emotional. But this wasn't fair...
The doctor sat on the side of the road nearest wherever he'd been staying for the night. His mirror was still in his hand. The pitch black face of an abomination stared at him, with milky white eyes and jagged teeth. Teeth that seemed too similar to the doctor's own. He'd known they had grown sharper, but they seemed so very horrendous in the mouth of this chitinous nightmare. It was unmistakably him. He'd always worried that the malignancy wrapping his arms would spread.
Across from him, on one of the ornate glass walls of a shop, played a scene where a monster of Malkus' height and general shape ran through a cave lined with layer upon layer of white fibrous tissue. The thing was without clothes, but covered entirely in the same dark segmented carapace. Almost like a slender, emaciated beetle. The talons on his hands had grown long and menacing, looking like daggers now. There was a grisly scene, showing the broken doctor chasing a number of frightened people through the caverns as the pale tendrils spread further underground. He wasn't the only monster in the reflection, as a pack of similar creatures followed the trail of pestilent destruction. He never watched to see if they caught their prey, but a bloody scene unfolded for anyone willing to steal a glance at the man's future.
Malkus didn't take such a personal attack very well. He had every right to be outraged at this clear manipulation. But instead the doctor just sat outside, crying into his mask; sobs barely muffled by the hard cloth of his beak. He let himself fall completely into the sadness that he knew they wanted. Malkus wasn't that strong, sometimes. He set the mirror beside him, buried his head in his arms and knees, and wept. ]
Malkus Iverwelling - OTA
The doctor sat on the side of the road nearest wherever he'd been staying for the night. His mirror was still in his hand. The pitch black face of an abomination stared at him, with milky white eyes and jagged teeth. Teeth that seemed too similar to the doctor's own. He'd known they had grown sharper, but they seemed so very horrendous in the mouth of this chitinous nightmare. It was unmistakably him. He'd always worried that the malignancy wrapping his arms would spread.
Across from him, on one of the ornate glass walls of a shop, played a scene where a monster of Malkus' height and general shape ran through a cave lined with layer upon layer of white fibrous tissue. The thing was without clothes, but covered entirely in the same dark segmented carapace. Almost like a slender, emaciated beetle. The talons on his hands had grown long and menacing, looking like daggers now. There was a grisly scene, showing the broken doctor chasing a number of frightened people through the caverns as the pale tendrils spread further underground. He wasn't the only monster in the reflection, as a pack of similar creatures followed the trail of pestilent destruction. He never watched to see if they caught their prey, but a bloody scene unfolded for anyone willing to steal a glance at the man's future.
Malkus didn't take such a personal attack very well. He had every right to be outraged at this clear manipulation. But instead the doctor just sat outside, crying into his mask; sobs barely muffled by the hard cloth of his beak. He let himself fall completely into the sadness that he knew they wanted. Malkus wasn't that strong, sometimes. He set the mirror beside him, buried his head in his arms and knees, and wept. ]