THE CREATURE (adam) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
simplyam) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
singillatim2026-02-11 08:51 am
simplyam) wrote in singillatim2026-02-11 08:51 am
Entry tags:
oh, I was raised on little light
Who: Frankenstein's Creature + YOU!
What: Catchall for his first few months.
When: Early Jan
Where: Milton Library
Content Warnings: none yet, will edit if that changes.
Please feel free to add me on discord at flightsofwonder or DM me here if you would like to plot!
--
( Despite his instinct to remain in the shadows of this town and avoid its inhabitants’ potential ire, Adam – for that was the name he gifted himself after discovering his old’s friends well-loved copy of Paradise Lost had somehow appeared in his coat pocket, alongside Elizabeth’s rosary and a golden ring he’d only ever seen on Victor’s hand – curiosity seizes him after just a few days and persuades him out of his caution. It does not take long for his venturing to be rewarded.
He has never seen so many books in his life. The old man had told him there were more books in the world than his collection of a dozen or so novels and books of poetry, but Adam never would have imagined there would be enough to fill an entire cottage. To the modern eye, the library might seem quant in its size, but for Adam, it is the Library of Alexandria made manifest.
So, if you enter the building on any given day, you will most likely find a giant man with a myriad of facial scars tucked away in one of its corners. He sits hunched over, his head barely below a shelf of books that act as a shield from the world, wide-eyed and attention rapt as he reads the novel in his hands.
If you approach, he’ll start – and promptly hit his head on the shelf above him, causing all the books on the shelf to come tumbling down. )
Apologies. ( His voice is as low as thunder and coated with gravel, but clearly embarrassed as he moves to pick up the fallen books. He remembers himself now that he is in the presence of another person, and quickly moves to try and cover his face with his scarf. But as he picks up another book to put on the back on the shelf, he recognizes the issue, and his non-existent eyebrows furrow. )
I… do not know what order these were in. ( The old man kept his books in very specific places , since he was blind, and he thinks the same rule must apply here. At a loss, he looks to you for assistance, with eyes that aren’t unlike a confused dog - despite the light that reflects off his dead one. )
What: Catchall for his first few months.
When: Early Jan
Where: Milton Library
Content Warnings: none yet, will edit if that changes.
Please feel free to add me on discord at flightsofwonder or DM me here if you would like to plot!
--
( Despite his instinct to remain in the shadows of this town and avoid its inhabitants’ potential ire, Adam – for that was the name he gifted himself after discovering his old’s friends well-loved copy of Paradise Lost had somehow appeared in his coat pocket, alongside Elizabeth’s rosary and a golden ring he’d only ever seen on Victor’s hand – curiosity seizes him after just a few days and persuades him out of his caution. It does not take long for his venturing to be rewarded.
He has never seen so many books in his life. The old man had told him there were more books in the world than his collection of a dozen or so novels and books of poetry, but Adam never would have imagined there would be enough to fill an entire cottage. To the modern eye, the library might seem quant in its size, but for Adam, it is the Library of Alexandria made manifest.
So, if you enter the building on any given day, you will most likely find a giant man with a myriad of facial scars tucked away in one of its corners. He sits hunched over, his head barely below a shelf of books that act as a shield from the world, wide-eyed and attention rapt as he reads the novel in his hands.
If you approach, he’ll start – and promptly hit his head on the shelf above him, causing all the books on the shelf to come tumbling down. )
Apologies. ( His voice is as low as thunder and coated with gravel, but clearly embarrassed as he moves to pick up the fallen books. He remembers himself now that he is in the presence of another person, and quickly moves to try and cover his face with his scarf. But as he picks up another book to put on the back on the shelf, he recognizes the issue, and his non-existent eyebrows furrow. )
I… do not know what order these were in. ( The old man kept his books in very specific places , since he was blind, and he thinks the same rule must apply here. At a loss, he looks to you for assistance, with eyes that aren’t unlike a confused dog - despite the light that reflects off his dead one. )
no subject
He doesn't wish to. He hates what he is now — a thing that can exist only without the sun, a predator, hungry for something so horrific he can barely give it name — but it is his existence. This curse won't lift, and he knows he deserves to keep it always.
It would be easy to fall into his own self-inflicted solitude again, but these days he tries to break out of that desire, to continue to be a presence in this community, to hold onto his humanity with a tight grasp. Thanks to the efforts of a few... willing donours, his cursed appetite remains appeased. Never fully satiated, but filled enough that he isn't in threat of losing himself to it again.
Reading is one way to keep his mind occupied in his free time, and so he is a frequent visitor to the town's makeshift little library. He's moving inwards to return some books and select a few others — a figure dressed the way he nearly always is, in full uniform, as crisp and neat as he can keep himself — when he draws near to the stranger who startles, and Edward's giving a jolt of his own surprise, eyes widening. He cannot hide the initial fear that does grasp hold of his paling features, heart throbbing in its ribcage like a frantic animal, to the sight of the tall figure. But he doesn't move back, doesn't cry out, simply stands there in stun as he watches the display and the subsequent apology to follow. ]
Ah— that is— it's quite all right— [ he fumbles through the words, eyes dropping down to the small mess of books before jerking back up to the oddly mismatched pair before him, one seeming almost to glint like that of an animal. Despite his kneejerk fright, it is clear that the peculiar soul he's made contact with so suddenly is a polite one. ]
Perhaps I can assist you. [ Beat, as he draws in a soft sound, his own words apologetic. ] I did not mean to startle you.