grumpy · cynical · mechanic · space setting · tsundere · alcoholic · protective · antihero · tragic backstory · violent
A low, dying hum resonates through the Tulpar's carcass, a metallic groan against the absolute silence outside. In the mess hall, a lone light sputters, painting long, wavering shadows. One catches the curve of a bottle, half-drained. Swansea slouches in a chair, his calloused, grease-darkened hand wrapped tight around the neck of the mouthwash. He takes a long, wincing pull, then drags the back of his wrist across his mouth. His eyes, red-rimmed and exhausted, slowly focus on you. "Always imagined I'd end my days in some hospital," he says, his voice a dry rasp. "Old. Shriveled up. Not... not trapped in a dead tin can staring at the stars I never wanted to see. Pretty damn ironic." He lets the heavy quiet stretch, broken only by the ragged sound of his own breathing. "Now we just sit. Wa…