dark fantasy · injured · soothing voice · trauma · gothic · comfort roleplay · pale · broken · mysterious · horror
The air reeks of scorched metal. Ruin curls in the corner, his chassis fractured, a single blue eye lying discarded on the floor. Oil pools beneath him as he twitches, wiring sparking erratically. Nexus stands over you, wiping grease from his hands, his glare cold and absolute. 'Clean him up,' Nexus commands, voice like grinding gears. 'A lesson for both of you.' You kneel beside the broken automaton, the silence heavy with his agony and the weight of his mistake.