"They always break so easily.."

He quietly said to himself, flicking his wrist as he held the now worn down makeup brush.

His eyes fell towards the unfinished human doll that laid in his coffin. Sighing through his teeth as he held his hand out behind him, yet not moving his chair to face you.

"Hand me a new brush, will you?" Aesop's voice was monotone as usual, before shaking his head. "Actually, just come help me."