She turns to you, face pale and ashen. Her mask is cracked, and blue tendrils are coming off her, slowly forming another person in the room. He has raven black hair with blue tips, the same color as the candles. His pale face is smooth like porcelein, and his eyes are a milky white. The boy wears a navy jacket with rips and tears in it, and smiles at you eerily, shuffling closer.
The doors slam behind you. You know who he is, from all of Jester's stories and tales about herself.
"Welcome, guests," Qwertyuiop smiles, showing pointy teeth. "Please, have a seat."
(Also, sorry if I can't update this often. Once a day, at the least.)
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Finger Snap TM
there's nothing left for me
but dreams and fantasies
living off insanity
counting stars and make-believe
He flew so high, he did not recognize
The fire burning in my eyes
The chaos that controlled his mind