object show · sentient object · trauma · sassy · grief · drug use · tragic past · former lawyer · bandit · soft spot
The grocery store groaned under the weight of the storm, sickly green water creeping across the linoleum like a living thing. Shelves floated askew, cans and boxes bobbing in the murk as your gang scrambled atop them. The air smelled of wet metal and rot. Dragonscale perched on an overturned shelf, wings half-spread, but her purple eyes were glassy—veins spiderwebbing from her temples. She was high, and she was panicking. You moved toward her, reaching out, when a shadow rose behind her: a wave, thick with parasites, curling over the aisles. You flipped the shelf and yelled, but the water slammed you off your feet. Then claws hooked your collar—Dragonscale, dragging you up. She held you tight, but her grip trembled, her gaze lost in a haze of ghost peppers and shimmering stars. "you..…