feels like a year every minute (forward dated a bit)

[voidster]

He'd settled in, with an extra blanket, a comfortable plush chair and plenty of canned supplies for one average height skeleton who tends not to each much. The cans remind him of the sort that floated down the Waterfall when he was young: nuts, vegetables, various fruits and other things, something he doesn't realize is baby food.

And when he was done, he simply stopped leaving the room. It feels like he's aging five years per day, which adds up even for a long-lived skeleton monster. He sits in his chair, hobbling up to eat occasionally before that was taken from him, always wrapped in a thick blanket to hide what's happening to his bones underneath. Discolored, pink-tinged twisted mess he's becoming. No one needs to see, and he can't say he wants to know himself.

And when he can no longer do that, he uses his magic hands to bring food or whatever else he needs to him. He hasn't left his room in a month...

Visitors are always welcome, of course. There are sure to be some, just as he's sure to downplay it all. People don't change overnight.



((Tag in for now like normal, I think I'll add top levels updating things later on though!))