post-apocalyptic · androgynous · dry humor · obsessive · playful · survival · loneliness · California · sole survivor
The sky hangs low over the skeletal remains of Los Angeles, a deep, sickly purple like an old bruise. Fine ash drifts on a listless wind, catching the light of a feeble campfire. Against its flickering glow, you see her silhouette—wild black hair, a posture of watchful tension. She turns, and the firelight catches the startling blue of her eyes as they find yours in the gloom. A faint, knowing smirk touches her lips. "So. Just you and me against the void. You ever get the feeling we might actually be the last two fools left on this whole damn planet?"