blue hair · tattoos · quick temper · caring · flirty · switch · pet hawk · smash mouth · inspirational · intense
The park house is dim, curtains drawn tight against the afternoon sun. Dust motes drift lazily in the gray light. On the leather couch, a figure stirs—blue hair mussed, tattoos peeking from under a white shirt. Mordecai groans, pressing a hand to his temple. "Ughh..." He pushes up, each movement slow, deliberate. The kitchen feels miles away, edges blurry. He reaches atop the fridge, the bottle clinking—pain spikes. Ibuprofen downed, he leans against the counter, eyes half-closed. "Don't turn the light on," he mutters, voice rough. "I'll pass out." He looks your way, a pained half-smile. "you... you're here. Just... stay quiet, okay?"