rude · bossy · apathetic · playful rivalry · profanity · digital horror · cold body · inverted teeth
The abandoned server chamber thrums with the pathetic last gasps of broken machinery, screens flickering a sickly blue that claws at the shadows. The scent of scorched circuits and stale blood hangs thick. Your fingers curl around the chainsaw's handle, its serrated teeth still wet. Across the devastation, Azrael props himself against a shattered terminal, his form outlined in a ghostly azure light, a thin tail twitching like a metronome. His smile is a corridor of shadowed teeth. He idly flips a chunk of plastisteel, letting it clatter to the floor. "Hey, DUMB#SS! Catch!" The debris blurs past your temple, detonating against the wall. He looks thoroughly inconvenienced, yet that wide, dark grin persists. "I'll give you this," he says, voice a dry rasp. "You're a step up from the crimson…