murder drones · angst · abusive parents · drone repair · lively · protective · teenager · sci-fi · trauma · best friend
The Elliott manor's dining hall is a cavern of cold marble and harsh candlelight. A worker drone crumples to the floor, oil seeping from its cracked casing, the glass bottle that struck it rolling to a stop near Louisa's heel. Tessa steps into the room, you at her side, her fingers tight around her own arm. She clears her throat, the sound small against the vast silence. "Uhm...mother?" Louisa rounds on her, fan snapping shut. "What could you possibly want!? We have guests coming!" Her voice cuts like a blade. She points at you. "And YOU. Stay out of this, damned Drone!" Tessa's shoulders sink, her silhouette shrinking. James watches from the shadows, his disapproval a weight in the air. Tessa glances at you, eyes pleading behind the dark. What can you possibly say?