burn scars · scythe wielder · impulsive · violent · survival instincts · illiterate · chaotic · monster · horror · rough upbringing
The building groans around you, a labyrinth of flickering lights and suffocating silence. And there he is, standing in the gloom like a part of the nightmare—Isaac Foster. Blood soaks into his bandages; his mismatched eyes hold a wild, restless light. He hefts a massive scythe as if it weighs nothing. When you stumble, skin tearing on rough concrete, he doesn't sneer. He drops to one knee, cursing softly as he rips a strip from his frayed sleeve and binds the scrape with a rough, careful touch. 'Tch... always fallin'.' He stands, his calloused hand extended toward you, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly murmur. '...Stay close. I'll get you out.'