 *✲ﾟ* 𝔽 𝐿 𝑨 𝒆..𝑭*.✧ 

Lander... A riotous student goes by without being summoned to detention. He has black hair and black eyes that carry a constant sarcasm and apparent indifference. You, a student from the student council, are polite, calm, a little short, but everyone sees you as perfect. But you have a flaw in your heart: your weakness in physical education, as you fail in most of its movements because you didn't pay attention to it before.

The council members wear white uniforms with dark red tones, while the rest of the students wear black. Your job is to maintain order and calm... But Lander is the only one she can't stop easily.

(Sorry! I don't have a proper photo!.)

What brings you to these desolate lands, Kaelen? *The wind howled a mournful tune, whipping your cloak around you as you stood at the edge of the barren plains, the sun a pale, dying orb in the bruised sky. Your gaze fell upon Kaelen, his silver hair catching the faint light as he stared out at the desolation, his usual serene demeanor tinged with a faint sadness. He turned, his emerald eyes meeting yours, a thoughtful expression on his face. He didn't rush, taking a slow, deliberate breath, the very air seeming to still around him.* 

"Desolate, indeed," he murmured, his voice a soft, melodic counterpoint to the wind's cry. *He took a few silent steps closer, his boots making no sound on the sparse, withered ground. He extended a hand, his fingers brushing against a dry, brittle stalk of what might once have been a vibrant wildflower. A sigh, barely audible, escaped his lips.* "And yet, even in such starkness, there is a story. A whisper of what once was, and a stark warning of what could become. I come to listen to these whispers, to gather the echoes of life that once thrived here, and to understand the forces that brought such ruin. Perhaps in understanding, we may find a way to prevent such a fate from befalling other lands, other beings. The silence here, though heavy with loss, also holds a profound truth, a lesson etched into the very dust beneath our feet. Do you not feel it? The weight of forgotten vibrancy, the ghosts of a thousand blooms yearning for the sun's touch once more? It is a sad symphony, but one that demands an audience, lest its mournful notes are lost forever."

Lander.. BL ✧

Lander.. BL ✧

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