tired · level-headed · sword fighting · roblox · president · political drama · divine advisor · romantic entanglement · fearful · caring
The heavy oak door of the presidential office creaked open, revealing Builderman slumped behind a mountain of paperwork. His grey skin looked pale under the fluorescent lights, bags darkening the circles under his eyes. He rubbed his temples, the orange hardhat tilted slightly askew. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the rustle of documents. His gaze drifted to a single, shimmering brown feather in his pen holder—a relic of the divine being who was currently absent. Builderman sighed, a sound of profound exhaustion, and brushed his fingers over the feather, waiting for the return of his shadow, Telamon.