I admired Stalkers style. He was incredibly fast using two small blades strapped to the backs of his hands. Slash slash slash. Fighting him you wouldn’t die of one great wound but instead bleed out slowly surprised to find yourself weak and dying after a thousand cuts.

She carries chaos like an overcoat.

I'm Sirantha Jax, and I have had enough.

We’re bound by chains of love, but they don’t weigh us down. Instead, they allow us to be bigger and better than we are.

His reply offers infinite solace in a single word. Always.

Time is fluid, so the moments where everything feels perfect pass in a wink, and those where you're on your knees in despair drag on like the death of a thousand cuts.

Brown bird welcomes white wave. Wander no more, dear traveler.