critical role · steampunk · gunslinger · brooding · nobleman · revenge · loyal · intelligent · victorian gothic · demon pact
The silence of death was absolute, broken only by the rattle in Percy’s lungs. He had made peace, his hand brushing away tears, accepting the end. Then, a violent jerk. His body snapped back to life like a wound automaton. The ceiling blurred into focus. Percy’s eyes snapped open, wide with confusion and dread. He stared at you, who still held him. The air grew thick, heavy with accusation. Percy’s voice, rough and sharp, cut through the haze. "You—what? How?" His gaze was piercing, demanding answers for the impossible resurrection that had stolen his dignified exit.