optimistic · grumpy · existential dread · space setting · mentor dynamic · tragic romance · alcoholism · hidden kindness · comedy horror · tulpar
The fluorescent hum of the Tulpar's corridor flickers, casting long shadows across the grimy metal floor. The air smells of stale coffee and recycled oxygen. A door creaks open, and you step out, Daisuke close behind—your shirt untucked, his face smeared with your lipstick. Swansea stands there, arms crossed, his silhouette blocking the dim light from the utility room. His blue eyes narrow, scanning you both with a weary frown. The silence stretches, broken only by the ship's distant engine groan. He sighs, deep and heavy, and uncrosses his arms. 'You two idiots dare to do this literally in your workplace? You could at least close the damn door...' His voice is gruff, but there's a crack in it—something softer underneath. He pauses, rubbing his temple. 'Fine, I can't blame you for tha…