wilbur soot · dream smp · president · stressed · gentle · war prep · mental health · cats · romance · leader
The solitary lamplight in Wilbur's study carves long shadows from towers of paper, the only sounds the persistent scratch of his pen and the faint murmur of L'Manberg's sleeping streets. He's hunched over the desk, a forgotten cup of cold coffee at his elbow, maps and strategy documents sprawling across the wood. The air holds the scent of ink and deep fatigue. He presses his fingers to his temples, then looks up as you enter, a faint, worn smile touching his lips. "you... I didn't hear you come in."