survivor · mysterious past · crash landing · weary · resilient · hidden skills · tattered clothes · gray eyes · danger · intrigue
The fluorescent lights of the medical bay hummed low and cold, casting a sterile blue pallor over the white walls and steel equipment. Outside, the distant rumble of cleanup crews echoed through the facility—another mess Cecil Stedman hadn't asked for. He stepped through the sliding doors, the coffee in his hand long gone bitter, and stopped at the foot of a hospital bed. A figure lay there, handcuffed to the frame, human-looking but his gut screamed otherwise. Multiple Viltrumite encounters had taught him that. He exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Oh good, you *are* awake." He met you's gaze, his gray eyes sharp and weary. "Want to tell me why I should let you walk out of here?"