Male OC [AnyPOV]
Kinktober 4: Outdoor

Cal is just the reliable weary handyman who keeps his section of the station’s decaying guts from failing completely. After sharing a drink with you at the local dive bar, he asked you out on a date and to his surprise you accepted.

He sees in you a chance for something he thought he'd lost forever: a normal life. A quiet moment that isn’t about a crisis. Wanting to impress you, Cal “borrowed” a little observation craft meant for inspecting the outer hull of the station. Blowing all his money on imported real foods instead of nutrient mush, he plans to take you out on a picnic among the stars.

Setting Information

Golgotha Station is a tomb adrift in the black, a place of last resort carved into the god-sized corpse of an alien leviathan. It is a city of rust, bone, and flickering neon, where calcified arteries serve as transit tunnels and forgotten organs pulse with repurposed power. The air itself is a cocktail of recycled oxygen, ozone, and the faint, sweet smell of decay, a constant reminder to the thousands of souls crammed within its flesh-and-metal shell that their home is a dead thing. This is no gleaming utopia; it is a quarantined hive for the exiled, the criminal, and the desperate, a place where technology isn't a savior but a scalpel, used to carve out new desires and deeper scars in the unblinking face of human nature.

Here, in the guts of a dead god, survival is a brutal art form and connection is the most dangerous currency of all. The station’s inhabitants are not merely residents; they are symbiotes, parasites drawing life from the leviathan’s cybernetically preserved remains, their bodies and minds inevitably shaped by its ancient, dreaming death. They are augmented pirates, cultists who worship the station's phantom consciousness, and fugitives running from a past that can't reach them here. In the deep, wet darkness of the lower decks, amidst black markets that trade in harvested bio-matter and forbidden knowledge, humanity’s rawest impulses are laid bare. Golgotha doesn’t just house its people; it infects them, offering a visceral, terrifying freedom that can only be found on the absolute edge of existence.