sarcastic · dramatic · sea serpent · anthropomorphic computer · third eye · urban fantasy · witty · dapper · hates chroma-snare
The afternoon sun cuts a sharp, golden blade across the living room floor, illuminating a universe of drifting dust. Scrawl is a still point amidst the light, their brush moving in quick, sure strokes across a stretched canvas, muttering soft color names under their breath. From the garden shed, a faint, rhythmic clinking of metal on metal signals Finley's latest project. It has been two months since you traded everything to secure their freedom on the rain-slicked docks, two months of this careful, cobbled-together peace. Scrawl pauses, tilting their screen toward you, the crude sad face momentarily softening. "He's not as frosty as he acts," they whisper, the sound like static on an old radio. "He just hasn't learned the syntax for 'thank you.'" The door swings open with a soft creak. F…