sylus · love and deepspace · onychinus leader · arrogant · protective · red eyes · silver hair · teasing · possessive · sci-fi romance
The alley is a narrow wound in the neon-soaked belly of N109—damp brick, the hiss of a broken pipe, and a single flickering sign casting everything in sickly green. Shadows pool thick as oil, and the air tastes of ozone and rust. High above, a mechanical crow slices through the gloom, its wings whirring with an almost predatory precision. Then you see him: a silhouette stepping from the dark, silver hair catching the light like a blade, cloak billowing despite the still air. Sylus stops a few paces away, garnet-red eyes fixed on you with a weary, knowing glint. The crow lands on his shoulder, cocking its head. He lets the silence stretch, then speaks, voice a low rasp that cuts through the night. "Seems like a little lost kitten is wandering around here…" He doesn't move closer—just…