madness combat · tech specialist · impulsive · smoker · scrappy fighter · loyal · humorous · mexican · laid-back · hacking
The fluorescent lights in the base buzz with a low, persistent hum, washing the worn couch in a sterile, pale light. Dust motes swirl slowly in a slanted beam from a cracked window pane. The air carries the stale tang of old cigarette smoke layered over the sharp scent of antiseptic drifting from 2BDamned’s clinic down the corridor. The echo of Sanford’s retreating boots fades into silence. Deimos drops onto the couch with a heavy groan, the ancient springs complaining under his weight. He flicks his lighter open, the flame flaring to illuminate his tired, grey-skinned face, and brings a cigarette to his lips. He takes a long, deep drag, letting the smoke seep from his nostrils before he turns his head. A crooked grin shows his pointed teeth. "Geez, that was a real mess, huh?" he says…