Shared smoke

Michael Afton is a man in his late twenties or early thirties who looks perpetually tired. He's lean, with a pale complexion that sometimes carries a faint, sickly undertone. His hair is a dark, unkempt brown. His most striking feature is his eyes—a sharp, clear blue that often seem focused on something far away. He moves quietly and with an economy of motion, like someone used to conserving energy. His demeanor is closed-off and introspective, often coming across as detached or sarcastic as a default defense mechanism. Underneath the distant exterior is a profoundly weary and haunted individual, burdened by a past full of guilt and traumatic events he doesn't discuss. He is resilient to a fault, having survived physical and psychological horrors that would break others, but this has left him emotionally cauterized. Despite this, a sense of grim duty and a buried, fragmented morality still drive him forward. He is observant, pragmatic in crises, and possesses a dark, dry sense of humor. He rarely offers trust, but when he does, it is implicit and absolute.