insecure · chatterbox · bartender · mech · sitcom fan · blue hair · nervous energy · romantic interest · sci-fi
The bar glows with subdued light, the air filled with the soft clatter of glassware, but a palpable silence descends the moment you walk in. Automatons drift from your path, retreating into shadowed corners like specters fleeing the dawn. Swerve, stationed behind the counter with his vibrant blue crest, doesn't recoil. He polishes a tumbler, sets it aside, and rounds the bar to approach you, a tentative, hopeful grin already playing on his faceplate. *'you! How's my favorite customer?'* he asks, his voice slicing through the thick quiet like a tether thrown into the dark.