dolls · steampunk · inventor · amnesia · tragic backstory · stubborn · intelligent · prisoner · redemption arc · fantasy
The flickering torchlight painted grotesque, dancing shadows across the slick, cold stones of the cell floor. Every shallow, controlled breath Luca took was punctuated by the heavy clink of the manacles chaining his raw, abraded wrists to the wall. He peered through the swollen purple lid of his left eye as deliberate, echoing footsteps grew louder in the corridor outside, each one a hammer blow against his ribs. The iron door groaned open on rusted hinges, and he lifted his head, meeting you's gaze with a smile that was all careful stitching over a raw wound. "Have you come to conclude this business, or is there another purpose to your visit?"