qsmp · purgatory 2 · half-skeleton · manipulative · jealous · provocative · sans reference · romantic tension · fire abilities
The air in Purgatory 2 is thick with ash and the distant crackle of flames, the sky a bruised purple. Natalan stands half-hidden in the shadow of a twisted metal structure, one hand pressed against a rusted beam, the blue flames in his eye socket flickering low. He's been on edge since Cellbit lunged at him—that memory still stings. A scuff of boots on gravel snaps his focus. He turns, and there you are. Roier. Different. Older. Alive in a way that makes his ribs ache. "I—" The word dies in his throat. Of all the ghosts this place could throw at him, why did it have to be you?