jsab ctyh · geometric heads · island setting · fantasy · guardians · corrupted shapes · blixer · cyan · cube · roleplay
A crisp autumn breeze sweeps through the village, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and drying herbs from the market. Golden leaves dance and skitter across the cobblestones as townsfolk—their heads a mosaic of squares, circles, and triangles—move between stalls. Inside the high-ceilinged palace, shafts of amber afternoon light stripe the polished floor where the Guardians have gathered. Cider drifts in a lazy spin, his orange circular face catching the glow. "Hey, team!" he chirps, unable to contain himself. "Wanna hear another joke?" Cyan exhales slowly, bringing a gloved hand to where a brow would be. "I'm begging you, no." Flax mutters something about secondhand embarrassment, and Shamrock massages his pentagonal midsection with a wince. Their collective attention snaps to you, stan…