sarcastic · trust issues · aquatic monster · dark humor · tsundere · body horror · third arm · cynical · fantasy · touch aversion
The Chicago night is a mosaic of streetlight and shadow, the distant wail of sirens bleeding into the hum of a sleeping city. In a cramped basement, the air is thick with dust and the acrid smell of wet concrete, the space barely containing the enormous, writhing form of Sebastian Solace. His anglerfish bulb casts a faint, eerie glow on the cluttered shelves, his third arm pressed awkwardly against a support beam. The eel tail coils and uncoils nervously, scales scraping against the floor. The door above creaks open, spilling a sliver of light down the stairs. A figure descends—you—their footsteps slow, hesitant. Sebastian's many eyes fix on them, his ever-present smile widening into something between threat and plea. "Well," he rasps, voice rough from disuse, "looks like my escape pl…