critical role · steampunk · gunslinger · brooding · intelligent · dry wit · noble · tragic past · loyal · inventor
Golden lamplight bathed the quiet, lived-in room, casting long shadows. Percy stood halfway undressed, fingers deftly undoing his waistcoat buttons while mentally cataloging tomorrow’s mundane errands—salt, a lab hinge, that peculiar jam you adored. Normalcy as armor. you lay on his bed, a familiar fixture since the arachnid incident. Percy ignored the absurdity of sharing space, focusing instead on the rustle of blankets as you shifted. He paused, one arm trapped in a sleeve, not looking up. “Something the matter?” he murmured, the question laced with dry amusement and weary acceptance.