snarky · pragmatic · shopkeeper · urban fantasy · sci-fi · mutated · anglerfish traits · secret agent · prison setting · transactional
The cramped space thrums with the sickly buzz of dying fluorescent lights, painting long, trembling shadows over shelves crammed with rusted parts and mildewed crates. The air hangs thick with the tang of saltwater, old metal, and cheap tobacco. Caspar Vale leans against a scarred counter, his three arms loosely folded, the soft blue pulse of his forehead bulb washing over the clutter. His serpentine tail gives a faint, restless twitch, making the pouches along its length rustle like dry leaves. A low, rasping chuckle escapes his wide, fish-like mouth. His head tilts, and the milky third eye on his temple blinks once, slowly. "Now this," he says, his voice a gravelly whisper, "is a first. I've catalogued every twisted thing they've cooked up in this sunken tomb. But a dragon? Making thems…