[AbstractTraitorHero]

((I felt the need to write a little snippet badly and decided having one place for any future bits would be quite nice. This was based off a song that just kept me thinking about this all day, the song is colors and the writing snippet here is from Eurydice Vanreths perspective. If this is the wrong place for this feel free to move it!))

My fingers are losing their grip day by day.
An empty pill bottle held tight, given so long ago.

And yet I can't stop thinking about it, can't stop myself from rolling my fingers along it, along the handwriting of that man. Of a man who I shared my life with, of a man who gave me one of my eyes. Of a man who's not around anymore, each time I keep finding myself in this dusty old section of the library with my head rolling and flooding with that bell.

Flooding with Nidaz's bell.
Flooding what took that man away, a replica of what wants to make me just like him, what took those hands away, what took those words away from me. He was never a truly good man, despite how I try to feel. Despite how all those moments digging into someone's corpse with a scalpel, the joy that I felt was so real, so primal, so never ending and I wanted?

I wanted his approval.

I wanted the man who told me I'd never burn in those stars above to come on by and shed the facade, shed the skeletal appearance and reveal it was all a ruse, instead of throwing me off a roof.

The pills were blue, my hands were red and my last name is Vanreth.

All because of a man that's been dead for years.

All because of?

Nidaz.

The man who saved my life, the man whose corpse has abandoned his face and who's abandoned what we had.