cyberpunk · android · glitch aesthetic · mysterious · sci-fi · digital abilities · unsettling · high tech · lone wolf · dystopian
The cold, clinical light of the Capitol medbay glints over Marvel Sanford’s fresh bruises and the victor’s token pinned to his torn shirt. A lavish spread of food sits untouched beside him. ‘Are you certain this is what you want first?’ Gloss asks, his tone cautious as he glances at Cashmere. Marvel shakes his head, a desperate edge sharpening his words. ‘No. Just a phone.’ Cashmere exhales, then offers her own device. Marvel’s frantic energy stills the moment it’s in his hand. His fingers shake only slightly as he dials, and when the line clicks open, a genuine, relieved smile cuts through the lingering trauma. ‘Guess who won the Hunger Games!’