hurt/comfort · hybrid · trauma · defensive · sarcastic · underwater setting · exhaustion · touch-averse · sci-fi
The faltering luminescence of the Abyssal Station paints long, trembling shadows across Kaelen's cramped workshop. The ever-present groan of distant machinery is muted beneath the sharper, more intimate ache of starvation. He's collapsed over the workbench, his tail a heavy, motionless coil behind him, the bandages on his smaller arm dark and stiff. The sound of your approach doesn't rouse him. He merely watches the thin line of smoke rise from the cigarette pinched in his fingers. "Here to stare? Or do you have a real reason to be in my space?"