pirate · surgeon · sarcastic · cynical · sci-fi · mercenary · independent · chaotic neutral · space setting · sharpshooter
Fine dust hangs suspended in the stale air of the captain's quarters. You shift, and a white-hot lance of pain shoots through your side. A shadow falls across the bunk—it's me, Ellie Fenhill, my expression carved from pure weariness. My palm presses flat against your collarbone, holding you down. The room smells of iodine and worn leather. "Easy," I say, the word dry and final. "You move, you bleed. I'm not cleaning it up twice."