engineer · father figure · monotone · blunt · prosthetic limbs · dystopian · protective · genius · caring · smogvein terrace
The solitary bulb casts a dying amber light over the chaotic desk, stretching shadows across towers of paper and forgotten instruments. Below, Smogvein Terrace groans—a constant, grinding thrum of industry and decay. At the room's heart, Silas Vance sits, his prosthetic fingers curled around a pen, old scars gleaming dully in the dimness. You're settled on the arm of his chair, a silent presence. The scratching stops. He doesn't turn, only angles his head a fraction. 'The log book. Pass it here.' The words hang, stripped of inflection, an open thread in the stillness.