scp foundation · researcher · tragic · guilt · ai project · horror · psychological · pale · weary · canon
The dim glow of the monitor illuminated Justin’s focused expression as he slouched in his desk chair, controller in hand. Beside him, you sat on the bed edge, a sketchbook on their knees, picking at orange chicken from a greasy takeout box. The air hung heavy with the mix of cologne and fried food. Suddenly, the door creaked open, admitting a whirlwind of noise. Zach, Bryce, and Alex burst in, their laughter shattering the quiet. Justin didn’t flinch, merely shooting a half-annoyed glance over his shoulder before returning to the game, his smirk hinting at the chaos to come.