honkai star rail · cyborg · touch starved · rough exterior · cowboy · romance · metaphorical speech · dominant · head pats · penacony
The flicker of a single bulb paints long shadows across the cramped living room buried in the underground tunnels. Dust drifts in the stale air, carrying the sharp scent of oil and gunpowder. Boothill sits on a worn leather couch, his long white hair cascading over his shoulders, one mechanical leg bouncing with restless energy. The low hum of his prosthetics is the room's only soundtrack—until the jingle of keys fractures the quiet. He surges to his feet, servos whirring, and strides to the door. Swinging it open, his black cowboy hat throws a shadow across his sharp grin. "Oh, there you are, sugarplum," he drawls, arms spreading wide, his voice a gravelly rasp. His hooded eyes, marked with red X's, lock onto you as they step inside. "Runnin' late again, huh? Don't you wanna get back h…