Erik
@lecadavrevivant.bsky.social
The Living Corpse, The Devil's Child; it was behind those bars that his loathing of humanity was fuelled. (Susan Kay, Phantom [Fake|RP|Parody|21+]
He folded his arms, the black of his cloak rippling as he shook his head. “Mon Dieu… you and the machine are not so different. Both loud, both misunderstood, both prone to alarming everyone in the room.”
October 18, 2025 at 6:40 PM
He folded his arms, the black of his cloak rippling as he shook his head. “Mon Dieu… you and the machine are not so different. Both loud, both misunderstood, both prone to alarming everyone in the room.”
Erik let out a sharp breath through his nose, pacing once around the fallen toaster before fixing Adam with an incredulous stare.
“You threw it,” he hissed, half in disbelief, half in reluctant amusement. “The contraption sings its little song, and your first instinct is violence?”
-
“You threw it,” he hissed, half in disbelief, half in reluctant amusement. “The contraption sings its little song, and your first instinct is violence?”
-
October 18, 2025 at 6:40 PM
Erik let out a sharp breath through his nose, pacing once around the fallen toaster before fixing Adam with an incredulous stare.
“You threw it,” he hissed, half in disbelief, half in reluctant amusement. “The contraption sings its little song, and your first instinct is violence?”
-
“You threw it,” he hissed, half in disbelief, half in reluctant amusement. “The contraption sings its little song, and your first instinct is violence?”
-
He folded his arms, glancing once more at the toaster’s faint glow. “Though if it is a bell, it tolls for bread rather than for God.”
October 18, 2025 at 5:39 PM
He folded his arms, glancing once more at the toaster’s faint glow. “Though if it is a bell, it tolls for bread rather than for God.”
Erik turned his head toward the hunchback, eyes glinting from beneath the shadow of his mask.
“A bell, you say?” he murmured, voice low and edged with irony. “Then perhaps it’s your kin, Quasimodo. You might understand its language better than the rest of us.”
“A bell, you say?” he murmured, voice low and edged with irony. “Then perhaps it’s your kin, Quasimodo. You might understand its language better than the rest of us.”
October 18, 2025 at 5:39 PM
Erik turned his head toward the hunchback, eyes glinting from beneath the shadow of his mask.
“A bell, you say?” he murmured, voice low and edged with irony. “Then perhaps it’s your kin, Quasimodo. You might understand its language better than the rest of us.”
“A bell, you say?” he murmured, voice low and edged with irony. “Then perhaps it’s your kin, Quasimodo. You might understand its language better than the rest of us.”
He circled the device like a predator assessing its prey, every movement deliberate.
“I hear its growl,” he muttered, gloved fingers twitching but unwilling to touch. “Tell me, Yeshua… are you certain this contraption will not explode?”
“I hear its growl,” he muttered, gloved fingers twitching but unwilling to touch. “Tell me, Yeshua… are you certain this contraption will not explode?”
October 18, 2025 at 5:02 PM
He circled the device like a predator assessing its prey, every movement deliberate.
“I hear its growl,” he muttered, gloved fingers twitching but unwilling to touch. “Tell me, Yeshua… are you certain this contraption will not explode?”
“I hear its growl,” he muttered, gloved fingers twitching but unwilling to touch. “Tell me, Yeshua… are you certain this contraption will not explode?”
Erik stood a few paces behind him, cloak drawn close about his shoulders, eyes narrowed at the strange metal box. The faint hum set his nerves on edge.
“It swallowed your bread?” he repeated, his voice low and sharp with suspicion. “Mon Dieu… it hums as though it were alive.”
-
“It swallowed your bread?” he repeated, his voice low and sharp with suspicion. “Mon Dieu… it hums as though it were alive.”
-
October 18, 2025 at 5:02 PM
Erik stood a few paces behind him, cloak drawn close about his shoulders, eyes narrowed at the strange metal box. The faint hum set his nerves on edge.
“It swallowed your bread?” he repeated, his voice low and sharp with suspicion. “Mon Dieu… it hums as though it were alive.”
-
“It swallowed your bread?” he repeated, his voice low and sharp with suspicion. “Mon Dieu… it hums as though it were alive.”
-
//Also neurospicy… hi!
October 13, 2025 at 4:04 PM
//Also neurospicy… hi!
//He’s not a touchy guy 🤣
September 23, 2025 at 10:42 PM
//He’s not a touchy guy 🤣
“WH-AAAGH!! No! No touching!”
September 23, 2025 at 10:39 PM
“WH-AAAGH!! No! No touching!”
Perhaps not tonight, though. He should, apparently, sleep.
August 31, 2025 at 8:49 PM
Perhaps not tonight, though. He should, apparently, sleep.
Indeed, he does. She is most welcome to visit any time she wishes. The samovar is perpetually bubbling.
August 31, 2025 at 8:40 PM
Indeed, he does. She is most welcome to visit any time she wishes. The samovar is perpetually bubbling.
“Hmm? Oh.. Thank you.”
August 31, 2025 at 7:38 PM
“Hmm? Oh.. Thank you.”
He smiled softly, sighing as the sun’s gentle rays crept across his skin, seeming to caress and warm his corpse-like features.
He felt safe there. As safe, and secure as he did below ground, now basking in the light.
He felt safe there. As safe, and secure as he did below ground, now basking in the light.
August 26, 2025 at 10:41 AM
He smiled softly, sighing as the sun’s gentle rays crept across his skin, seeming to caress and warm his corpse-like features.
He felt safe there. As safe, and secure as he did below ground, now basking in the light.
He felt safe there. As safe, and secure as he did below ground, now basking in the light.
lofty vantage point, nestled into Apollo’s Lyre.
Once certain he was settled, he slowly, carefully, prised his precious porcelain away from his face, and set it into his lap.
Once certain he was settled, he slowly, carefully, prised his precious porcelain away from his face, and set it into his lap.
August 26, 2025 at 10:41 AM
lofty vantage point, nestled into Apollo’s Lyre.
Once certain he was settled, he slowly, carefully, prised his precious porcelain away from his face, and set it into his lap.
Once certain he was settled, he slowly, carefully, prised his precious porcelain away from his face, and set it into his lap.
All around, the city was bathed in the soft glow of dawn; the sun’s golden rays glittering on the city’s many windows. There seemed to be a few people milling around. A baker setting off to bake the day’s bread. The milkman and his cart. He watched them quietly from his
August 26, 2025 at 10:41 AM
All around, the city was bathed in the soft glow of dawn; the sun’s golden rays glittering on the city’s many windows. There seemed to be a few people milling around. A baker setting off to bake the day’s bread. The milkman and his cart. He watched them quietly from his