gotta make decisions somehow

c e c i l i a .

Archetype, boundless.

Warrior.

Morning light of a 10am sun bites at a ten year old's skin, pale and cold, he's nothing more than a faint yelling of "Charlie! Charle-" and an empty crib of a life. It places him down in the world, a bruise taunting his cheek as he burrows in the closet. A mother's beckoning deafening, echoing with a train's whistle blowing through the crack of the door. Alone, blood draining from already pale skin and dark eyes pressed into his chest.

Systematic rebirth, in that moment with wide eyes he felt no less dead than he had eight years later but extrospective. Nothing more than a pair of wide eyes, crossed pallid arms and a gaping mouth. A singular crack exposing secrets of a world left untapped - soft words of a ghost lingering in the back of his mind dying ("do not move.")

The man's voice was deep.

---

From the front of the train, a woman yells the time until they reach destination, district six. Robin's head banged against the window pane as exhaustion's fog plagued his mind, squinting with the sun teasing his pupils.

[ enters bloodbath ]

6J_EjhP9unarmed