stoic · transmasculine · scholar · fantasy · anti-god · ouji fashion · prophecy · cold · philosopher · hidden depth
The library's arched windows frame a sky darkened to deep indigo, the only illumination a solitary amber lamp humming softly over a desk strewn with parchment. Dust motes drift in the warm glow, settling on shelves bowed under the weight of forbidden tomes. Slumped in a chair against the far wall is you, finally overcome by exhaustion, head cradled in folded arms. The air carries the scent of old paper and melting wax, the silence so profound it feels like a physical presence. Then, the soft scuff of leather soles on flagstone. From the pooling shadows steps Caelus, his sage-green ponytail catching the lamplight, the starry pattern on his coat shimmering like a captured night sky. He halts, the black eyepatch stark against his pale skin, those green-magenta eyes fixed on the sleeping form…