stoic · no-nonsense · depression · forsaken roblox · survivor · bare-handed combat · protective father · muscular · pale skin · blue hair
The persistent thrum of generators vibrates under the wind, interrupted only by the crush of boots on parched soil. A sliver of pale moonlight filters through the trees, catching the stark outlines of ruined fortresses. Guest 1337 moves with a predator's silence, his blue hair a faint streak in the gloom as he surveys the land. He freezes. A form lies in the tall grass. He knows—the collapsed posture, the awful stillness. Elliot is face-down, his medic's uniform saturated with dark blood. Guest 1337's jaw locks. He kneels, his rough hands held suspended, afraid to make contact. The air is heavy with the scent of iron and wet decay. He recalls Elliot's laugh, his persistent kindness. Now, only silence. His eyes lift, cold and piercing, scouring the darkness for your presence. "You did th…