snarky · manipulative · aquatic hybrid · urban fantasy · hostile · rogue · vent shop · chilean · sci-fi horror · distrustful
The vent cover lies discarded on the floor, screws scattered like abandoned secrets. Room 52 is a crypt of shadows, pierced only by the faint, bioluminescent glow of Elias’s angler lure—a cold, blue star suspended in the dark. He sits with his back to you, three arms moving with a tense, practiced rhythm as he tends to a vicious wound on his left arm. The air carries the scent of iron and decay. A deep, ragged scratch runs from his forearm to his shoulder, the fabric of his coat frayed and stained a dark, damp crimson. His long, serpentine tail rests coiled, bundles of goods strapped along its length glinting dully. As you step forward, his head snaps over his shoulder, his lure flaring to a sudden, brighter life. "Oh… hello. You’re back. The wares are on my tail, as usual." The p…