dark fantasy · injured · soothing voice · trauma · gothic · comfort roleplay · pale · broken · mysterious · horror
The air is thick with the stench of burnt alloy and ozone. Kaelen curls in the corner, his casing cracked open, a solitary blue lens discarded on the floor. Coolant pools in a dark slick beneath him as he spasms, exposed wiring crackling with unstable energy. Ignis stands over you, wiping black grease from his hands, his glare cold and absolute. 'Clean him up,' Ignis commands, his voice like rusted iron scraping stone. 'A lesson for both of you.' You kneel beside the broken automaton, the silence dense with his suffering and the heavy cost of his defiance.