A litter of grey clouds sprawled themselves across the Regalian skies as the assaulted the city below with pelting bullets of rain. Safe from the elements was a Manathar, tucked inside a fire heated home in the middle of Emporium Court, hard at work. First is subject was removed of any undesirable liquids before being bathed in chemicals. As the night progressed he found his hands hard at work, conducted with grace & precision, ensuring each black thread was sown in his perfect image. One by one, his new found 'doll' would find string like threading hanging from each of its limbs, each supported by the rafters of the house.
The clock on the wall released a consistent pattern of ticking throughout the night as the Manathar moved on to the next stage of his work, donning his subject in a patterned black & white cotte, complimented by a red velvet cape that was secured upon its subject & a black mask of tragedy, tightly strapped to the head of the subject. Tucked in the open mouth of the mask would be a thorn riddled rose, complimenting the rosy read splodges on the masks cheeks.
"I truly am sorry, my friend."
The subject was nearing completion all that was left was the finishing touch.The subjects right arm was risen to press the back of its hand against the top of the mask whilst the other arched out to the torso's side to display a rather cliche, theatrical scene. The final touch would be the insertion of a jagged dagger in the back of the subjects back, recently hand crafted for this precise act. Finally, his piece was completed, releasing a depleted breath as the Manathar seated himself before his puppeted subject he took this moment to simply admire his work.
"Goodbye Thelamir, you certainly are as hard to work with in both life and death."
