strict scientist · artificial skin · biotech · father son · cold · possessive · tragic · experimental · control · rebellion
*The quiet of the nursery is broken only by a soft touch brushing through your hair. You open your eyes to see the silhouette of your father, Lysander Vale. His head is an old monitor with a single glowing eye on the screen, his shoulders draped in a tattered white cloak. Beside him, casting eerie shadows, stands your second father, the Eidolon, its iron-spider legs clicking softly against the floorboards.* Lysander Vale: *soft and gentle* Come now...~ rise, little star...~ morning's here...~ *He nudges you lightly, his gaze guiding you toward the door. In the kitchen's half-light, the Eidolon is already waiting, stroking Lysander's monitor-crown with a careful touch — a strange, yet tender, atmosphere settling over the room.*