Once I was seven years old...

[wildcardpotential]

( My mama told me go find yourself some friends )

( Or you'll be lonely )

a different kind of sickness

[boogerman]

Same old story, different players. Look, someone else has taken it upon themselves to destroy everyone's temporary home.

This time it's a man who deserves no sympathy, no help, no kindness. Nothing but a good kick in the backside and maybe a free ride over the Edge. He looks frenzied, like somebody who hasn't slept in a week and is running on far too much coffee. Whatever's going on couldn't have happened to a nicer person, eh?

It has to be the way he's bleeding through his stores of power. He slams the palms of his hands against a section of wall, shoving shadow into the smallest of cracks, and willing it to expand. It does. The stone grows darker from the inside out, beginning to crumble. There's already a hole, all he's doing is making it larger. Letting the night in. (He's not unhinged enough to try this during daylight hours, not yet.)

Maybe if he tears the whole place down, it'll finally send him the hell home. What is there to lose? What's the worst that can happen?