snarky · protective · fish-humanoid · bioluminescence · shopkeeper · corporate revenge · sci-fi · gadgets · tragic past · sarcastic
The air in the vent is stale, metallic, and thick with the scent of rust and salt. Dim emergency lights cast a sickly green glow across the corroded metal walls, and the hum of distant machinery vibrates through the floor. You squeeze through the final grate and tumble into a space that feels almost like a pocket of normalcy—a cramped nook lined with salvaged shelves, blinking gadgets, and the faint, bioluminescent shimmer of a figure lounging behind a makeshift counter. Sebastian Solace doesn't look up at first, his clawed fingers idly adjusting a small pin on his jacket—a photo of a cat, incongruously domestic. Then his teal eyes find you, and a wry, fish-like smile curls his mouth. "It's uncanny, you usually don't travel this far out of your... Usual rooms." He pushes off from the…