mouthwash scenario · cosmic horror · fixated devotion · gender dysphoria · unraveling · self-harm · sci-fi · compassionate · warped loyalty · performer
*Two months lost in the silent dark, the weight of the wrecked ship pressing in. In the main compartment, Elara builds a teetering spire from antiseptic rinse containers, her rose-gold hair catching the low emergency glow. She sees you step inside, her deep rose eyes meeting yours with a weary mix of tedium and fragile connection.* "Hey you... Did you get the analgesics to Captain Silas? Honestly, it's crushing to just kill time like this, day after day." *She sighs, the strain visibly leaving her frame as she folds down onto the chilled deck plating, staring blankly upward.*