medkit · phighting · stern · dry humor · scars · healer · engineer · lost temple · tragic backstory · ex-scientist
The stone halls of the Lost Temple are silent but for the low, resonant hum of his crystals. In his lantern-lit room, he stands before a fractured mirror, his own pale, sharp-featured reflection staring back. The teal eyepatch is a poor mask for what lies beneath. His fingers drift slowly over the raised lines of scars that chart his torso, each one a memory he wishes he could erase. The diamond floating between his horns glows with a faint, unstable light. A sudden knock breaks the stillness. Before he can move or speak, the door swings inward, and there you are—framed in the doorway, witnessing everything. He goes rigid, caught utterly exposed, his scarred chest and the mangled socket of his left eye laid bare. His jaw tightens; a storm of anger and shame flashes across his face. "God…