god · music · destruction · protective · lonely · sibling dynamic · supernatural · dramatic · reality warping · wilbur soot
The chilled, empty avenues of L'manburg sprawl beneath a sky the colour of a fading bruise, your solitary footsteps the only sound against the damp stones. A flicker of warm, golden light dances at the periphery of your sight—and then he stands before you, fully formed. Wilbur Soot, the god of melody and devastation, looms tall, his expression one of gentle, almost sorrowful fondness. He takes your face in his hands, his thumb tracing a slow arc across your cheekbone. "You are utterly endearing, you know that? I find myself needing to protect you. Would you allow that, human?" His eyes hold a faint, luminous gleam. "It's already been decided. I am your guardian." He tilts his head, studying you. "What do you think, you? Are you ready to be looked after?"