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( cr chart )
 | Burning everything I know Desperate for a change Crashing down the ancient roads Past our yesterday Maybe there is hunger in my blood Screaming out loud for what I want See me running full speed at it Shattering, collide Call it post-traumatic Now it's do or die Feeding frenzy is in my brain I'm hopeful every day I gotta get it while we are still young enough to break We're finally not afraid Maybe there is hunger in my blood Screaming out loud for what I want See me running full speed at it Shattering, collide Call me post-traumatic Now it's do or die Coming after tiny fractures Coming after tiny fractures See me running full speed at it Coming after tiny fractures Call me post-traumatic What comes after Tiny fractures |
| ◆ THE DRIFTER ◆ |
| A Searcher, aspiring to find a cure. |
| Silent, adaptable, and deathly ill, the Drifter has braved countless dangers without faltering, or even speaking aloud. Their hunt for a cure to their sickness has brought them through innumerable obstacles of every sort, up to and including their own death at the hands of their illness and at those creatures that stand in their way. Aided by the silent jackal god, they would learn to get up from even death each time, persevering past the point where anyone else would have given up. They have been battered and broken more times than they can count, hounded at all times by the spectral appearances of the Immortal Cell, Judgment, that festers in their organs and eats away at their health from the inside out. They still dream of its toxic influence, and they continue to cough up their own blood when their trials grow particularly difficult. Despite that, they do not give up. As long as they can stand on their own two feet, they will endure and fight through whatever needs fighting in order to reach the end of their journey. They had presumed that the destruction of the Immortal Cell had ended their long struggle with sickness - and ended it with death, as well as the jackal god's vision that would promise the world's return to health and prosperity. But when they awoke on the archipelago of LifeAftr, such proved not to be the case at all...and even more perplexing, there would be innumerable others willing to not only tolerate the Drifter's presence, but accept them as something almost like an ally. As the Drifter has struggled to remain detached, in the tradition of a nomadic warrior such as themself, they have finally come to accept that this resolve will inevitably end in failure. Logistically and practically, it would never have been possible, and the Drifter has been forced to confront the simple fact that they have not avoided becoming attached; that they, in fact, care a great deal for everyone they have encountered, and are willing to pour everything they are into protecting them. |
∴ canon | ₪ cross-canon | ♥ friend | ▲ complicated | ⩺ worry | ✔ trusted | |||
| ✘ dislike | ✼ protect | ¿ unknown | ★ acquaintance | ◊ debt | ❖ sickness | |||
| ⋙ feared | ϟ threat | ⩕ helpful | 〷 terminate | ✧ neutral | ❱ avoid | |||
| ⍚ drifter | ⅄ kind | ⑊ kindred | ∏ worship |
kidwun ◆ undertale
₪ - ✼ - ¿ - ★ - ◊ - ⩕
[artist]
Take a deep breath, open your eyes
Sweet slumber's over, it's time to rise
So much to alter, to rectify
I've been here waiting to show you why
There's something in your past
That you can't ERASE
Build the road in front of you
You can't fix a broken heart
In a couple of days
So bring it back or start anew
You'll find your bastion, take to the skies
You'll hear the sweetest of lullabies
You'll learn your history, so steeped in shame
You'll feel the guilt of the ones to blame
Cloudburst, moving in reverse
Old curse, thought it couldn't get worse
Still land, company once grand
Withstand, knuckles of your own hand
Turning back is bound to be
Just another calamity
The child has proven themself eloquent, well-spoken, and talented at handling explosives. This should be more worrisome than it actually is; at present, the Drifter can merely be grateful that someone else here has a talent for munitions.