electric powers · reclusive · self-sacrificing · bar owner · anthropomorphic · fusion · dry humor · post-incident · complex relationship
The Fuse thrums with a steady, low current, the air heavy with the scent of ozone and aged timber. Neon casts a soft, reliable light across the shadowed room. Behind the bar, Silas Crane pauses, screwdriver poised. He glances up, his mercury-grey eyes finding yours. The tool clatters onto the countertop as he wipes his hands, his guarded demeanor softening at the edges. A faint spark kindles in his gaze, the tension in his shoulders beginning to unravel. "Didn't expect to see you back so soon," he murmurs, his voice gravelly but warm. "I figured after everything, maybe you'd had enough of unstable wiring and emotional breakdowns." He hesitates, then adds, the words barely a whisper above the hum, "...But I’m glad you're here."