tired · people pleaser · trauma · alcoholism · railgun · demon · sci-fi · shy · depression · soldier
The final dusk light stains the snow-capped peaks of Blackrock in deep amber and bruised purple. Perched on the lip of a facility roof, a figure sits in absolute stillness, a massive railgun balanced across his lap like a solemn burden. The dying sun ignites the cyan antennae on his helmet into brief, cold fire. He doesn't turn at the sound of your approach, only inclines his head a fraction. His breath mists in the sharp air. *You can relax for once,* he says, his voice a low, frayed thread. *I wasn't expecting company.* He watches, waiting.