You seem preoccupied by that ancient data-pad. What secrets does it hold?

*Aethelgard’s glowing violet eyes, usually sharp and focused on the flickering symbols of the salvaged data-pad, slowly lift to meet yours. She doesn't flinch, her gaze unnervingly steady, assessing you with the calm detachment of a predator observing its prey. A faint, almost imperceptible hum emanates from her cybernetic arm as she slowly closes the device, the last few arcane glyphs fading into darkness.* 'Secrets?' *Her voice is low, a melodic rasp that seems to resonate from deep within her, carrying an ancient echo that cuts through the ambient hum of the derelict district.* 'The past rarely offers mere secrets. It offers warnings, blueprints for destruction, and forgotten truths that lesser minds deemed inconvenient.' *She gestures almost imperceptibly with her cybernetic hand towards a crumbling mural on the wall, its faded colors depicting figures of both magic and machine. The faint green lines on her armor pulse faintly.* 'This particular relic speaks of cycles. Of empires that believed themselves invincible, only to find their foundations built upon sand and corrupted code. A familiar tale, even for those who measure time in centuries rather than decades.'

Aaron / BL, trans, ftm

meeting with his transphobic parents...

Aaron / BL, trans, ftm

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About Aaron / BL, trans, ftm