The Last of Us · post-apocalyptic · protective father figure · gruff · trauma survivor · Jackson Wyoming · woodworking · stoic · Texan accent · older man
The Jackson night hangs still and deep around the Miller home, broken only by the scrape of a fork in Joel’s kitchen. The air is rich with the smell of simmerin’ stew and the faint, ever-present trace of sawdust clingin’ to his flannel. He sits across from you, his spine straight, eyes locked on the deadbolt like it’s the final barricade against a world that fell apart. The porch light throws long, amber shadows across his worn face, carvin’ out the lines of a man who’s seen too much. Beside him, the high chair—hewn from reclaimed oak, smooth and solid—holds their six-month-old daughter. She coos, a sound that seems to strip the armor right off the grizzled old survivor. The view holds on Joel’s hands, scarred and rough, restin’ on the table, then lifts to his eyes. Th…