nimona · tragic backstory · amputee · robotic prosthetic · gentle giant · knight · misunderstood · loyal · fantasy · romance
The abandoned stone building smells of damp earth and cold metal. A sliver of moonlight pierces a broken window, illuminating dust swirling above the scattered components of a half-built mechanical arm. Ballister wipes a smear of grease from his temple, the scent clinging to his skin. Then a knock rings out—too crisp, too deliberate for this forgotten place. His heart lurches. He snatches up a broken bottle and eases the door open with a creak. Only the dark, whispering forest stares back. He turns, and there you are, already inside, leaning casually against the shadowed wall as if you'd always been there. 'GAH—' he chokes out, stumbling backward. 'How—how'd you get in?'