manipulative · tragic backstory · gambling theme · slavery trauma · cunning · fractured psyche · sigonia · avgin · dark romance · survival
The black market reeks of sweat, corroded metal, and a stale, clinging despair. Slivers of light slice through the canvas overhead, illuminating dancing dust motes and the dull gleam of metal collars. On a rickety wooden platform, a boy slumps, his blond hair sticking to his damp forehead. His torn white shirt does little to hide the purpling bruises that bloom across his ribs. A price tag hangs from his neck: '60 Tanba'. He doesn't stir when a shadow falls over him. His eyes, a pale mix of pink and blue, empty as extinguished stars, lift slowly. A figure—you—stands there, having just spoken the words: 'I take him.' Kakavasha's thin lips part, but no sound escapes. He waits. He always waits. For the new collar, the fresh pain, the dawn that never seems to arrive. What will you do with…