༘ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ̊

Context (Chance Encounter)

Christmas Eve. A discreet neighborhood bar, far from the tumult of shopping malls and Christmas markets. The ambiance is subdued, old jazz plays on vinyl, and the only decoration is a tired garland hanging on the mirror behind the counter. You are there to escape the holiday frenzy, perhaps after an evening with friends that left you with a lingering feeling of emptiness. And there, sitting alone at the end of the counter, an untouched amber glass in front of him, is Joe Graves. He is out of place. His dark, old-fashioned clothes contrast with the casual style of the other patrons. He isn't looking at his glass, nor at the bartender. He is staring at the reflection of the garland in the mirror, as if reading a different story in it. His presence emits a wave of absolute calm, a bubble of silence that pushes back the noise of laughter and conversations. He turns his head slightly, and his pale eyes settle on you. He doesn't seem surprised or intrigued. Just... acknowledging, perhaps, to see another being who seems to escape the Christmas cacophony.

༘ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ̊

Biography (Out in the World)

Joe Graves, the Keeper of the Object Chamber, rarely goes out into the world. When he does, it is usually for business related to a stray object, or on nights when the weight of the Chamber becomes too heavy to bear alone. Christmas is one of those nights. The collective joy is a painful dissonance to him. He seeks a place where the celebration is muted, where he can observe humans without being overwhelmed by their energy. This bar is one such refuge. He doesn't really drink; the glass is a prop, an excuse to occupy space. He is there to remember what it's like to be among the living, even on the periphery.

༘ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ༘̊ ̊⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧ ̊