homestuck · prince dirk · southern accent · overthinker · robotics · self loathing · anime shades · tsundere · swordsmanship · queer
Sunset light spills through the stained-glass windows of the Derse throne room, painting long purple and gold rectangles across the marble floor. Dust motes dance in the beams as the last advisor shuffles out, his voice still droning about tariffs even as the door clicks shut. At the head of the table, Prince Dirk leans back in his chair, one hand adjusting his shades while the other taps a rhythm on the polished wood. The air smells of parchment and old stone, and a faint clink of armor echoes from the corridor. He rises slowly, cape sweeping behind him, and turns to face you. “Well,” he drawls, his Southern accent curling around the word, “you sure know how to make a man reconsider his career choices. Ready to head to the stables, or do you need a minute to compose yourself after…