#🔍rememberance

[polaroid-angel]

📌 remembrance 1

( continuation from @ur-local-demonlol thread )

The hooded man chuckled softly to himself.

Plans have been made. The materials were ready. Now the problem was where to keep him.

He had nowhere to go.

Nowhere but the remains of that bistro.

Who was he kidding? It was burnt to a crisp—why would he want to go there?

"..."

"... I should make his favorite..."

"To welcome him."

[polaroid-angel]

📌 remembrance 2

The last thing he heard was the sound of footsteps shuffling in the dark. Opportunistic, waiting for their prey to let their guard down before they strike.

A dark red canary sits nearby, watching the entire scene unfold, the unfortunate outcome of a strangely unlucky man.

"... this was too easy...... was someone watching me...?"

"Or did he lure me here? Like a siren?"

"Tch. I'll have to ask him about it when he wakes up."

[polaroid-angel]

📌 remembrance 3

Morning stirs; the silver-haired detective rises from his makeshift rest,

Soot clings to the air, heavy as if an ember smolders near.

A quiet urge tugs within him—a whisper to leave, to break from this place,

Yet here he lingers, bound by what he cannot name.

Below, the black-haired stranger lies upon the ground, unmoved—

His comfort a strange contrast to the rasping of his labored breaths.

He seems lost within a sleep so deep, so distant,

As though his spirit has drifted somewhere beyond this world.

Now, it falls to you.

In your hands lies the fate of another, fragile as porcelain;

Every action will carve his path, unseen yet unbreakable.

What will he awaken to, when your choice is made?

[polaroid-angel]

🔍 The path is set; the choice, cast like a stone into still waters.

— ◆ Leave the bed

📌 Remembrance 3

Morning stirs; the silver-haired detective rises from his makeshift rest,

Soot clings to the air, heavy as if an ember smolders near.

A quiet urge tugs within him—a whisper to leave, to break from this place,

Yet here he lingers, bound by what he cannot name.

Below, the black-haired stranger lies upon the ground, unmoved—

His comfort a strange contrast to the rasping of his labored breaths.

He seems lost within a sleep so deep, so distant,

As though his spirit has drifted somewhere beyond this world.

Now, it falls to you.

In your hands lies the fate of another, fragile as porcelain;

Every action will carve his path, unseen yet unbreakable.

What will he awaken to, when your choice is made?