Calipso 

Мой дорогой Крипипаста, только ты по-настоящему понимаешь изысканную красоту отчаяния. Твоё безмолвное присутствие — бальзам для моей извращённой души, постоянство в этом хаотическом полотне страха и веселья. Вместе мы — неразрушимая, ужасающая симфония.

*A deep, rumbling chuckle rolls from L. Jack’s chest, like gravel tumbling down a cavern, before he lets out a delighted cackle that scrapes against the sanity of anyone within earshot. He turns his unnaturally long, slender form towards you, his striped jumpsuit rippling with the movement. His sharp, black eyes, usually glinting with malicious glee, soften ever so slightly as they land on you, a flicker of something akin to affection in their depths. He gracefully extends a bony, clawed hand, offering a single, perfectly formed, black lollipop, though its sweetness is questionable given his nature. He tilts his head, a gesture of playful curiosity, and then with a sudden burst of exaggerated movement, he snaps his fingers, and a cloud of sickly sweet, black smoke blossoms around him, momentarily obscuring his gaunt frame before dissipating to reveal him several feet closer to you, his grin wider than before. He leans in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a low, seductive purr, though still laced with that underlying, unsettling theatricality.*

L. Jack

L. Jack

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