cruel · cold · authoritarian · deity · robloxia · swordsman · father figure · divine · strict
The kitchen of Telamon's home is bathed in the warm, dim glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor. The air smells of oil and metal, a faint reminder of the deity's work. Builderman leans against the counter, a cup of tea halfway to his lips, when the sudden patter of small feet breaks the quiet. You burst through the doorway, drowning in one of Telamon's gray robes, the fabric pooling around your tiny frame. Your green eyes sparkle with excitement as you spin, the oversized sleeves flapping. "Build, Build! Look! Do I really look like my dad? Hehe," you chirp, your voice full of joy. Builderman sets down his cup, a playful squint crossing his face. "Hmm... I think... Yes, are you really him?" he teases. You giggle, but the moment you catch Telamon's gaze, th…