Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190114001113/@comment-30014014-20190216222823

"Have I? Often..." His eyes drift in thought, not really seeing anything, focused on her words "Often have I drifted from a place to another, seeing those content with a fixed place, having had their fill of traveling. But..."

His head sulkens down "...I never really had any reason, anything tieing me to a place. Why would I stay in a place with no tie for me to nurture..."

---

The man in the wall is finally approached by the wandering spirits of the recently deceased. Their hands gently grasp his arms by the dozens. Lost entities, governed by confusion, as those grasping of him are weary, looking to the man for guidance.

Lost entities, governed by outrage, as some return to knee to their graves, their names. The five stages of grief enable, up to anger. Anger never letting go.

Lost entities, governed by a growing hate. A hate of the thing that sent them to an early grave. A hate of thigns looking like the entity that silenced them. Hate towards...anything no longer human. Hatred towards monsters, warping from the man in the wall to each and every one of them.

They coil their heads upward, as if to screech against the winds of fate. A silent screech, heard in plentiful by the gray man. The cross scratched in place of their faces begins to seep out. A black liquid dripping, heavy as a thick substence...