The romodromi (/ˈroʊmoʊdɹoʊmi/) is a bulky stranger that walks on straight, toeless legs. Its head and neck are eye-covered, while its body and tail are plainly striped. Pink flesh, similar to muscular fibers, is found only in its limbs, snout, and tail-tip; otherwise, the romodromi's body is hard and brittle, composed of a number of hollow organ-shaped cavities. Its skin is thin, dry, and taut, with limited flexibility on the majority of surface area, with limbs being the primary exception, but not the tail or nose-tip.
Destructible with ease, the romodromi does not reform from injuries. Its flesh, when burnt, emits a cloud both dark and noxious.
The romodromi speaks through only a high-pitched, grinding screech.
The romodromi appears in grimy-tiled subways, around dim or burnt-out light bulbs, desaturated but organic hues, graffiti-covered patches of concrete, crumbled detailing, and asymmetrical arrangements of colors. It prefers locations that lack strong cleaning chemicals, with the use of bleach seeming to ward off its generation. It does not appear in exterior sites, or near windows overlooking such views.
Within ideal locations, the romodromi appears abruptly. Its fibrous inner flesh forms first, followed by its skin, in a process totaling less than a quarter-second. It appears an inch above the ground, dropping down with an abrupt clunk once fully formed, potentially injuring the romodromi in the process.
This strain generates only by itself, and with no more than three romodromi dwelling within an environment at once.
Although it takes no chances with its steps, the romodromi spends its rigid life exploring. When it reaches a dead end, it circles back the way it came, never seeming to understand its path or its surroundings. It reacts to nothing outside of immediate physical surfaces and bounds, its head swinging in wide but slow arcs as it probes its way forward and back.
With little predictability (some speaking every ten minutes, others at clustered gaps days to weeks apart, and still others only once), the romodromi emits bursts of inorganic sound, each utterance lasting up to sixty seconds. Its voice is amplified by white paper, echoing between two parallel planes for minutes.
When a sensitive blinks around a romodromi, the last-seen image persists in their field of view in lieu of the absence of vision, and does not change until the eyes are open again.
Once touched by a sensitive, the romodromi ceases to speak.
It has no other effects.
Growing more brittle as its life continues, the romodromi eventually breaks apart in hard chunks, beginning at the differential seam, with its body and head soon following in separate suite. Its corpse does not decay on its own, and is rid from the world only when burnt.