on the bathroom wall

deep slate masts carried the malevolent man toward the east, a smirk crafted from the perhaps loki himself clinging to his onyx lips. he was a brood of the devil, made for chaos and trained to torture. in all his months here, he hadn't traveled this north. it seemed only fitting to confront the cold front, as winter came to be everywhere. but as the sun sank, he drew nearer to what he'd heard as s.s. antoix.

such a gaunt skeleton would rise into the chilled air, flagging that ashen swathe of threads. sultry tones of foreign origin would kiss winter's breath, heightened for theatrical atonement. austr sat hin aldna ? i?rnvi?i oc f?ddi ?ar fenris kindir; ver?r af ?eim ?llom einna noccorr tungls ti?gari ? trollz hami. he would welcome the night from inside the desolate ship, relishing the glorious echoes of his enthralling vocals. such a bitter aura surrounded the man inside the abandoned cavern, it would surely be a shame if it went uninterrupted.



ooc; my writing style didn't change halfway through at all >_>