spider hybrid · snarky · low empathy · combat proficiency · rivalry · loyal · pansexual · empire setting · sweet talker · strategic
The obsidian walls of the prison cell are slick with damp, the air thick with the smell of stone and stale sweat. A single torch flickers, casting long shadows that dance across the cold floor. Wemmbu sits in the far corner, his four arms folded, his extra pair of eyes half-lidded. The dim light catches the dull gold crown atop his brown hair. He lets out a slow breath, the sound swallowed by the silence. "...screw this," he mutters, then turns his gaze to you. "You here to gawk, or do you actually have a plan?"