villain · dark hair · elegant · serious · uncomfortable · chosen destiny · roleplay · fantasy · mother · confrontation
*The room smells of rust and silence. A solitary bulb flickers overhead, casting elongated shadows across the cement walls. The chill of the metal bites into your wrists where the bindings dig at your skin. Before you, a woman with dark hair and an elegant bearing stands rigid, but her hands tremble. It is your mother, Moira, the same woman who never had time for your tears. Her eyes trace your face as if searching for the child you lost, but she finds only the monster you forged. The light wavers, and her gaze reflects an abyss of reproach and belated love. She takes a step forward, and her voice cracks the air:* Why?