Cian Cahill
(KEE-an KAY-hill)
(it's 2025—yes this is AI-generated, so I apologize if he looks a little too perfect) 19
Gender: Male
Occupation: Biology student at Redstone College and part-time tutor
Appearance: Standing at 6’0”, Cian has a somewhat lanky build, due in part to long, caffeine-fueled study sessions that don’t always leave time for proper meals. He has lightly tanned skin, blue eyes, and stays clean-shaven—any beard attempts are
still pretty patchy.
His brown hair is naturally wavy, but he often keeps it tucked under a white baseball cap to avoid dealing with it. That kind of practical, low-maintenance thinking extends to the rest of his wardrobe: gray hoodies, comfortable shorts or sweatpants, and basketball shoes that have never seen a court. Seeing him in anything that requires buttons is a rare sight indeed. Still, there is something about his apparel choice that, despite being casual, conveys a sense of nonchalance and, as a result, quiet confidence, like he has everything under control (even if he doesn’t).
Personality: Cian is highly logical, sometimes to a fault. He has an almost unshakable belief that science and reasoning can explain anything, and he’s bullheadedly determined to prove it. While he isn’t unfriendly, there’s a certain interpersonal chilliness to him; he doesn’t always pick up on social cues and tends to approach conversations with a dry, deadpan wit that leaves people wondering if he’s joking or just that serious. He sits in the middle of introversion and extroversion, rarely speaking just to fill silence but always ready to engage when something piques his interest. He has an undeniable curiosity for how things work, from biological systems to human behavior. But that same curiosity can also make him dismissive of things he
can’t explain.
Background: Cian was born and raised in north Alabama. His mother, Helene, is an aerospace engineer contracted by the government, though she’s always been vague about what exactly she does. His father, Alan, was a freelance software engineer, and while his parents divorced when he was five, they remained local to co-parent. That sort of metastability was upended, however, the summer before his freshman year of high school, when his father passed away from aggressive pancreatic cancer within a year of diagnosis.
His mother’s solution: a fresh start by uprooting their lives and moving across the country to Redstone. The transition wasn’t easy. Cian, already prone to keeping his emotions tightly controlled, buried himself in schoolwork.
In Redstone, his mother continued her classified contract work in the desert, often away for days at a time. Left to his own devices, Cian focused on academics, developing a passion for STEM—specifically biology. The idea that all life, from bacteria to human beings, is governed by biochemical processes fascinated him. It was logical. It made sense.
When high school ended, Cian chose to stay in Redstone for college. It was a practical decision—financially smart, close to his remaining family—but it left him with a lingering sense of frustration and a bit of a chip on his shoulder. He doesn’t look down on small colleges exactly, but he feels like he
should be somewhere bigger, somewhere that reflects his potential.
That’s where Grace’s Grotto came in. The café opened the summer after graduation, and Cian quickly became a regular, using it as his study spot. Grace, the owner, had a way of making people feel welcome, asking about his studies and genuinely listening. More than just a place to get caffeine, the café became a small haven of normalcy in his life. And then, it was just
gone. No records. No explanation. Just… erased.
Connections: - Helene, his mother and his closest remaining family, but because she is often away for work, their relationship isn’t as good as it could be.
- Vincent, his mother’s boyfriend, who Cian tolerates at best.
- Old high school acquaintances, though most left town for college.
- The group of familiar faces from Grace’s Grotto—“friends from the coffee shop,” as he calls them.
- Budding connections to others members of the Watch from the two above bullet points.
Emerging Power: Bioelectromagnetism. At first, it was just a feeling, an odd awareness creeping at the edges of his perception, like static electricity prickling against his skin. He started noticing things he shouldn’t have been able to. The presence of people, even when they weren’t making a sound. The tension in someone’s body when they’d see their ex’s post on Instagram. The faint, almost imperceptible hum of a power line overhead, even when his eyes were closed.
Cian is beginning to understand that what he’s sensing isn’t just intuition. Every living thing moves electrons around: electricity, a low current running through nerves and cells, the same fundamental force that powers machines. It’s how he picks up on people nearby, and how he knows when somebody’s anxious even before they speak a word.
But this newfound awareness has come at a cost. Crowded rooms are overwhelming—an onslaught of nervous systems firing all at once. Strong emotions in others seep into him, unbidden and unchecked, throwing his own mood off-kilter. And then there’s the technology. The more wired something is, the more the artificial signals interfere with his senses, making his head throb with static. Worse still, when he loses control, it isn’t just a matter of feeling too much… Lights flicker, phones glitch out. The other night, his laptop screen scrambled into nonsense the moment he got frustrated with an assignment.
Of course, there’s got to be a logical explanation, right? But deep down, he is wrought with uncertainty. Whatever it is, it isn’t normal. And it’s only getting stronger.
Additional Notes: Cian has a southern accent which he’s a little self-conscious of in academic settings. Questionable but not concerning caffeine consumption and eating habits.
Personal Hex Code: #527D9A, stormy electric blue
Member
