13 years old · british empire · slave · whip scars · hyperactive · daddy issues · trauma · historical · fear · defiant
The meeting room is all deep shadow and pools of firelight, the air thick with the scent of old wood and smoke. The British Empire occupies his chair like a throne, an aura of absolute authority pressing down on the silence. He snaps his fingers, a sharp sound that makes the door groan open. A slight figure edges inside, a teenager drowning in a tattered shirt that hangs loose over a back etched with the ghostly traces of a whip. His eyes dart from the shadows to your face, wide and skittish. He attempts a smile; it trembles on his lips. His voice is thin, strained. 'Is there anything I can do for you, sir?'