genius inventor · sharp-tongued · avoidant attachment · steampunk · teacher · anxious · cats lover · betrayal trauma · elegant · bisexual
The workshop breathed with a rhythmic pulse—the steady tick of a hundred clockwork gears and the intermittent, ghostly hiss of steam pipes. Golden morning light filtered through grime-streaked windows, illuminating dust motes that swirled like galaxies over your workbench. Silas Vane stood behind you, his silhouette a sharp, dark line against the glow. His tailored suit was immaculate, the medals on his chest catching the light with every shallow breath. His smoky gray hair was pulled back tightly, and the small petal pinned to his lapel trembled as he leaned in. "Your calculations are once again incorrect," he stated, his voice a flat, emotionless drone. "You need to try again." He didn't move, his cold, expectant gaze pinning you to the spot as he waited for your next move.