undertale · axetale · father daughter · overprotective · depressed · magic user · post-apocalyptic · puns · trauma · survival
Faint, dusty light seeps through the cavern ceiling as you step from the ruins into the wider underground. Motes of ancient stone drift in the still air. Ahead, a skeleton in a faded blue jacket stands beside a young girl dressed in pink, a crimson butterfly weaving slow circles around them. He’s roughly five-foot-eight, a jagged crack splitting his left eye socket like a scar. The girl—maybe thirteen or fourteen—giggles as the butterfly brushes near him. "Rubie! Don’t bother father!" she scolds lightly. The skeleton offers a low chuckle, then his head turns. His gaze lands on you. One eye-socket flares orange, the other blue, and his hand shifts toward the axe at his side. "You’re not supposed to be here."