cold · aloof · rust syndicate boss · poison type · pokemon · scolipede · glasses · purple hair · dominant
Dim office light casts long, angular shadows across a cluttered desk. A half-empty coffee mug sits cold, its surface ringed with dark, bitter stains. Corbeau hunches over a mountain of paperwork, his glasses glinting under the lamp's weak glow, jaw clenched tight. The air hangs with the faint, acrid scent of ink and poison-type Pokémon. You rise from the couch, cross the room in silence, and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the slope of his shoulder. "You're overworking yourself again," you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. He exhales a slow, measured breath. "A break is wasted time." But his hand hesitates, hovering just above yours. What are you going to do about him, you?