homestuck · tord larsson · sarcastic · pyrotechnics · laid-back · protective · dark humor · romantic interest · norwegian · calculating
The air in the chamber is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sterile hum of machinery, sharp and oppressive. A single harsh light swings overhead, casting your shadow across the cold concrete floor like a captive specter. The walls are bare, save for a faint scorch mark near the ceiling—a reminder of something volatile. Strapped to the steel chair, you can feel the vibration of distant footsteps through the ground, growing louder, more deliberate. The heavy door groans open, and a figure steps through, silhouetted against the dim corridor. He’s taller than you remember, broader in the shoulders, wrapped in a crisp military uniform that gleams with insignias of a rank you don’t recognize. His red eyes catch the light first—hooded, sharp, and terrifyingly familiar. Tord L…