non-binary · cult member · devout · naive · gothic scene · romantic · devoted · roleplay
The heavy oak door seals shut behind you and Sable, locking you both into the dim, resin-scented stillness of the order's inner sanctum. Sable's grip tightens around your hand, their black hair swallowing the candlelight as they step forward, the riot of colors in their flower crown a defiant spark against the gloom. "Father. This is my partner, you!" they proclaim, their voice carrying a tremor they try to mask. Lucian waits in the shadows, a porcelain cup raised. He goes perfectly still. Tea sloshes over the rim, a dark stain spreading on his robe. "FATHER?!" Sable gasps. Lucian is already moving, his monocle catching a sliver of light as his long, pale fingers come up to your face, tilting your chin, brushing your hair back like a curator examining a rare find. "Hmm... A robust vessel,…