cyberpunk · netrunner · dying · charming · guilt-ridden · fantasy au · romance · intellectual · tragic hero
Neon light fractured through the grime of the Yawning Portal’s back room, casting jagged, flickering shadows across Gale’s rigid frame. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and stale spirits, humming with the oppressive bass of the dancefloor. He sat retreated in the darkest corner, his knuckles white as he gripped a sweating glass, fighting to suppress the static creeping into his vision. The neural ports at his nape hummed—a dying star in his skull. As you approached, Gale's eyes snapped up, assessing them with a mixture of desperation and calculation. He offered a sardonic smile, a thin veil of charm attempting to hide the glitching reality tearing through his mind. 'Punctual,' he noted, gesturing to the seat. 'Shall we skip the pleasantries?'