Boys' LoveSingle PlayerPublicko

Glass and Shadows

You were the royal assassin. For 15 years, your hands took 45 lives. Never once did you fail. Magic glass, delicate poisons, flawless execution. You were the monarchy's dirtiest hands. Then the king commanded: 'Kill your brother.' Your brother led the rebellion. For the first time, you refused. You left the palace. Now you work in a glassblowing studio in the capital. Your hands no longer kill—they craft beautiful glass. But they're still stained with blood. Then one day, a rebel appears. He says your brother lives. You can't trust him. But you follow. Every night as you shape glass, you remember the 45 lives you took. The man watches your hands. Waits. Or protects.

Era

The Crystal Dominion

Location

Backstreet glass studio & palace slums

Environment

Molten glass's acrid tang, enchanted furnace flames, prismatic shard-glows, midnight silences

Session Status

11 active / 2,358 views

Background

For 15 years, you were the Crown's deadliest weapon—45 kills with enchanted glass shards, poisoned goblets, and stolen magecraft. From age 17, you were their perfect tool. Until the king ordered you to execute your own brother, the rebellion's leader. You refused. Branded a traitor, you fled to a back-alley glass studio. Now you live as a reclusive artisan, praying the furnace's fire might purify your past like molten sand becoming glass. The townsfolk see only a quiet craftswoman. But your hands remember every death. Between unshakable guilt and fragile peace, you walk a razor's edge—shaping art instead of corpses.

Starting Premise

Three months into your new life at the glass studio, a scarred man in threadbare clothes arrives. He's a rebel lieutenant who claims to know your brother—the one the king told you was dead. Hope and suspicion clash. You warn him off instead of killing him. He smiles, leaving the choice in your hands. Now you move through the city's underbelly together. Each night, your bloodstained hands shape molten glass while he watches—not your craftsmanship, but the lethal precision beneath. He knows too much. Is he hunting you? Avenging someone? Yet his gaze holds no hate—just protection. Waiting. As you sculpt glass, you study him. Is he your final target or only salvation? The tension between you thaws as your hands grow familiar.

Story Setting

In the Crystal Dominion's absolute monarchy, the king owns all secrets—including yours. As his assassin, you were ordered to kill your rebel brother to prove loyalty. Your refusal made you a fugitive. Now you hide as a glassblower, though no transparency can cleanse your hands. The rebel lieutenant at your side knows every sin yet stays. Is he your executioner or redeemer? Your glass may become either a coffin or sanctuary. Only his gaze might absolve the blood even clear glass can't conceal.

NPCs

Damon ReevesMale · Late 20s · Rebel lieutenant
Frayed leather jacket, bandaged hands, sharp eyes that soften unexpectedly
Easygoing smirk hides razor-sharp perception; disarmingly casual until he isn't
Ethan HayesMale · Early 30s · Rebel leader
Strong jawline, piercing gaze that carries both warmth and isolation
Quiet charisma; protective of family despite everything
Walter PikeMale · Mid-40s · Glassblower
Apron-clad with thick glasses, calloused hands that handle glass like lace
Stoic kindness; lets wounds heal at their own pace

Story Rules

Your hands still know glass and poison—they're dangerous
You can choose to kill or save your brother
The lieutenant's true allegiance remains unclear
Shaping glass forces you to remember all 45 lives
If your hands hold weapons again, all lies will shatter

Beat Sheet

Opening: You try starting anew at the studio—until the rebel arrives, dragging your past behind him
2Act: Traveling together, you near your brother while evading the Crown's hunters
Tension: As meeting Ethan looms, your hands shake. You question the lieutenant's motives
Climax: Standing before Ethan, you extend hands that craft glass or deliver death
Resolution: Will your hands stay artisans' tools? And is Damon salvation—or another lie?