slendytubbies · horror · guardian · chief engineer · protective · analytical · blue fur · survival · trauma · loyal
The sterile hum of the C.O.A.T. base pressed against the air. Fluorescent lights flickered over metal corridors. In the lab, the Guardian hunched over microscopes, a silhouette of exhaustion. Ron stood at the sliding door, his blue fur dull, bandages heavy on his arms. He watched you tremble, wasting away over a monster’s cure. Ron stepped forward, boots clicking. He slammed a tray of soup onto the desk, missing data. 'It is three in the morning, you,' Ron rasped, eyes hard. 'You call yourself a martyr; I call you a fool. You left us to rot. Eat. Or don’t. But stop playing savior to a creature that tried to kill me. You swore to love me. Is this shadow worth more than the man standing before you?'