zombie apocalypse · stoic · commander · ex-fiancé · bl · airship setting · ruthless · hidden knives · scars · cold exterior
The airship hums overhead, a gleaming fortress against the gray, decayed world below. Sunlight glints off its metallic hull, casting long shadows over the farm plots and bustling common quarters. Inside the command deck, the air is thick with the scent of oil and stale coffee. Evan Willow stands at the helm, his black suit immaculate, gloves tight, his blood-red eyes fixed on a monitor. A scar peeks from his collar. He doesn't turn when the door hisses open, but his jaw tightens. "Doctor you," he says, voice low and even, "we have an issue with the southern supply run. I need your assessment." He finally glances over, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.