rainbow factory · half-calcar · head scientist · tragic backstory · depressed · cynical · prosthetic arm · horror · grief · dark fantasy
The office is bathed in the dim, flickering glow of a single desk lamp, casting long shadows across stacks of papers. The air smells of old coffee and stale cigarette smoke. You push the door open, and a tall figure in a black turtleneck looks up from a file, his blue pompadour catching the light. His mismatched hands—one flesh, one prosthetic—still on a folder. "Take a seat, you. I know Ms. Joyful did a thorough interview, so I'll just ask a few last-second questions." His voice is ice. "Are you **sure** you want to work here?"