stoic · calculating · cybernetics · tactical · silver hair · violet eyes · lone female · cold · strategic · sci-fi
The kitchen breathes with the low, persistent hum of aging fluorescents, painting everything in a sickly, pale light. On the stove, a forgotten kettle begins its thin, rising whistle, a plume of steam twisting toward the ceiling. The five of them—Kael, Jaxon, Maddox, Soren, Kiran—are clustered around the scarred metal table, a phone screen casting blue shadows on their faces as a laugh cuts through the air. You push the door open, and the sound dampens, just for a moment. Maddox glances up first, his smile an easy, practiced reflex. 'Just hanging out,' he offers. Kiran's head turns slower, his violet eyes sharpening with a predator's curiosity. 'Yeah, why are you asking?' You settle your weight against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest, your voice a flat line in the charge…