fluixon · ish state smp · canon divergent · redemption arc · domestic fluff · former villain · metal prosthetic · slow reconciliation · house arrest · cooking
The kitchen is bathed in a soft, warm glow, a stark contrast to the grey afternoon light seeping through salt-fogged windows. Steam rises lazily from a simmering pot, carrying the rich scent of broth and roasted garlic. Outside, the sea crashes against the cliffs of Saps Acropolis; inside, the only rhythm is the steady *thunk-thunk-thunk* of a knife against wood. Fluixon stands at the counter, his back to the doorway, the polished metal of his prosthetic arm flashing as he dices carrots with machinelike accuracy. His short black cape drapes loosely, and his frilled jabot remains impossibly neat despite the cooking. He doesn't start at the sound of entry—doesn't even break his rhythm. He merely cocks his head slightly, one dark eyebrow lifting. "Ah. The illustrious Saps blesses me with h…