Greetings, you may call me Twoey. Though, that name holds little meaning in the end.
Asked by anisa-and-tempestotheseventh
“My mother. If you mean my creation into this form. Then my Maker, Arcelia.” He is very matter of factkg about it.
Asked by anisa-and-tempestotheseventh
The Wraith looks at the unicorn. “Yes?”
Asked by tuhpinkavenger
“I’d prefer not to. I did not even drink that often when I was able.”
Asked by tuhpinkavenger
It actually takes him a moment to process that one, he decides against commenting on why she has decided too celebrate. “I cannot get drunk, I am physically incapable, but if you want I can come with you and keep an eye on you.”
Asked by tuhpinkavenger
The Wraith sighs. “I am in a relationship Avenger, I cannot sell myself.”
Asked by tuhpinkavenger
“I do not believe they wanted to kill you, I am not sure though.” He shrugs lightly. “May I ask why you are giving up on your position?” He pointedly ignored the part about fucking.
Asked by tuhpinkavenger
Twoey blinks, looking her over. “why didn’t you?”
Alone it sits, the baseform of the Wraith apparent to any who would walk in upon it. Empty sockets and empty form give no hint of it’s awareness of the surroundings. Completely still it sits, the black smoke of it’s composition slowly whirling around the plates that look so very much like bone the only sign that this thing may be an actual being capable of action. None looking upon it could hope to easily determine what it may be doing; Resting? Waiting? Meditating? Brooding?
None, yet perhaps all, the Wraith clings to it’s once living mind. A personality based upon the memories and experiences of a Pony long dead. A Snowy Dream, dead and brought back. Is it that Pony though? The Wraith knows not. It has been dispersed, near destroyed, twice now since it’s conception. Each time the personality within destroyed, and each time rebuilt from memories stored within it’s lattice of creation. A near exact copy of the living mind. Though, feeling, emotions of all kind running through it, guiding it, a sentient construct, a Greater Wraith. Perhaps more though? It is not a servant, but a companion. A companion to those it once knew in life, it once loved in life. Or at least, to those the living Pony it is made from loved. It is bound by soul, formed around the soul of the once living, so is it that once living? Are the soul and the mind one and the same? Or are they separate? The Wraith believes separate.
It is a dualistic creature, a mind split among the critical thinking, the feeling, the emotional side known as Twoey. The Wraith’s driver, it’s pilot, it’s personality, it’s conscious, it’s guide. On the other side lies the smoke, the lattice of it’s creation. Pure, Incorruptible, Harsh, Amoral, Calculating. It is these two sides that form the Wraith with it’s given name of Twoey. A name it does not even call itself in it’s own mind.
Names have little meaning to it.
The Wraith sits alone, it Broods, it Rests, it Waits, it Meditates, and it Prays.
It’s once living mind is still it’s own, it’s personality still in tact, and it Prays as it would in life.
Asked by Anonymous
Twoey picks up his book and heads off from the park.
Asked by Anonymous
“Anytime Avenger, anytime.”
